Page 71 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

"Stop making poor decisions, then. I saw the look in your eyes. You intend to slip out when no one is looking."

"'Tis my choice to escape this prison. I'm glad I didn't marry you, for I would've only been a prisoner, aye?"

The jolt of pain that crossed his face surprised her and made her regret it immediately, but then he narrowed his eyes. "The man you left with, the man you chose over me, is a shining example of an honorable, principled nobleman, aye?" he asked with sarcasm. "A hundred times better than I am, right? Is that what you think?"

She couldn't respond to that, for everything in her rebelled against it.

"If so, go to him," Brodie said. "Marry him. See how grand your life is."

***

BRODIE SLAMMED THE door on his way out. Damn the lass! He could no longer abide Elsea or the confines of this castle.

He stomped down the stairs, through the great hall and out the exit, ignoring all the gaping people he passed. Aye, they had heard the shouts, and he didn't care.

Of a certainty, she could marry the bastard earl if she wished, but not until after the selkie abductions stopped and the females were rescued and safe. Until then, she was staying here.

He strode to the barracks. "Kenneth," he called.

His sword bearer appeared. Noticing Brodie's foul mood, he halted. "Chief. What's wrong?"

"Lady Elsea is trying to leave on her own. Do nay allow it. She'll get herself killed out on the moors. Assign several guards along the walls, stables, the postern gate, everywhere. Keep a watch day and night. She's cunning, and she's armed. Do nay underestimate her."

Kenneth's eyes widened. "Aye, chief. As you say."

"I appreciate it." Brodie strode away. 'Haps he had overdone it, but he did not want her escaping and getting herself hurt again, or worse. Aye, he was furious with her, but that didn't mean he wanted her to die.

Heavy gray clouds loomed overhead as he descended the craggy steps down to the shore. In the small cave, he unbuckled his belt and threw his clothes into a heap on the stone ledge. Outside, in the edge of the cool surf, he slid on the sealskin and shifted.

An immense sense of relief washed over him as he glided through the cold salt water. How he loved this... loved being a selkie. He would not give it up in exchange for trusting a backstabbing wench who talked out of both sides of her mouth.

His rage floated away, and calm overcame him.

Soon, he arrived at Ròncreag Isle. After shifting, he hurried into the cave. The fire had burned down to ash.

"Margaret?" He strode into the dark back cavern. Empty.

Where the devil had she gone?

Outside, he gazed along the beach in both directions. The pearl light of dawn revealed no one. He sprinted along the beach until he reached the path that led to the opposite side of the island. The wind whipped more severely on the western side. Also deserted.

He'd explored every inch of this island and knew it held no other caves.

Margaret could've left in only two ways. Either a galley had come for her, or she'd shifted into a bird... or a fish.

Returning to the cave, he found the smock and arisaid he'd brought from Farspag for her to wear weeks ago, along with the thick woolen blanket. If she'd boarded a galley, she would've worn the clothing.

Cursing his idiocy, he went outside and sat on the sand. What the devil had he been doing, bedding Wilona MacRae for a month or longer?

"Bloody hell." She turned his stomach.

How could he have been so blind? Duped by not just one woman, but two. Gavin had tried to tell him Margaret was Wilona, but Brodie had refused to believe it. Refused to see reason.

Damn it all, he was an idiot.

And Elsea... thinking of her now was torturous.

Why the hell had he kissed her? Such a foolish decision.