Page 53 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

Instead of distracting from her appeal, the dusky circles beneath her eyes only increased his concern for her. Some knave had injured her severely. He would find the answers and unleash his wrath upon them, both for her injury and for the abducted selkies. If only she would remember and tell him who was responsible.

He sat on a cushioned chair by the hearth. It creaked once, but she didn't wake. If she caught him, he didn't care. He would say he was guarding her from the witch, which was true.

Something shiny lay near the modest neckline of her white smock, almost hidden by the edge of her pillow. What was it?

Trying to be quiet, he rose and approached the bed. 'Twas a gold ring on a thin dark cord, made into a necklace.

Was it the sapphire? Nay, it couldn't be.

He had to know.

Hoping he wouldn't wake her, he gently tugged at the cord, pulling the ring out into the open. The sapphire glimmered blue in the firelight.

He ground his teeth, suppressing a string of Gaelic curses.

She still had it? She still... wore it?

What the hell?

Heart hammering, he reclaimed his seat by the hearth and pressed the heels of his hands into his closed eyes, dumbfounded. Why? Nothing made sense.

If she wanted an earl... why did she cling to the ring Brodie had given her? He shook his head.

Why did you do it, Elsea? Why did you ruin everything that was beautiful and perfect?

The soft curve of her face, so peaceful in sleep, and the sapphire, glinting blue in the firelight, brought back to life a past he'd thought long dead. A past he'd hoped to forget.

The sting of her betrayal had destroyed the pleasant memories.

But now, her face appeared so serene in slumber that spellbinding images flooded his mind. Images he normally blocked out, for 'twas too harsh and painful to remember.

More than two years ago, they had met at a cèilidh at Kincreag Castle. He'd gone there with Torr and Gavin. Brodie hadn't been chief long, and though the clan elders were pressuring him to find a bride, he had no intention of doing so in his mid-twenties.

But cruel fate had other plans. When she had snagged his attention in the crowded great hall before supper that night, her light golden hair had shimmered in the candlelight, her crystal blue eyes had locked on his and her pupils had dilated with awareness. He'd caught her near imperceptible intake of breath.

She tore her gaze from his as if burned and changed course, veering away from him. He supposed his bold stare had alarmed her.

"Who is she?" Brodie asked Torr, who stood beside him.

"Who?"

Brodie motioned with a tilt of his head. "The young blonde lady."

"Oh, you mean Lady Elsea? She's my second cousin. Chief MacAuley's daughter." Torr grinned. "You wish to meet her?"

Did he? She wasn't just any lass. As a chief's daughter, she was not someone he could dally with.

When Brodie didn't respond, Torr went on. "Her da is trying to find her a husband."

"Hell," Brodie muttered, determined to avoid marriage for now. "I'll keep my distance then."

Torr chuckled. "Let me know if you change your mind. I'll introduce you."

Brodie spent the next several minutes convincing himself to avoid looking at her. But later, he stood by the hearth, sipping from a tankard of bitter ale, pretending to listen to the men's conversation around him. Every time he glanced at the lass, she sent a shy, fleeting peek at him.

Hell, if she wasn't the most beautiful lady he had yet laid eyes on. Was she even real?

"Have you talked to her yet?" Gavin asked.