“That’s the Laird,” he told her, pointing imperiously up at the blond man at the head of the table. “And that’s his tanist Malcolm.”
“What’s a tanist?”
“His second-in-command,” Eamon said solemnly, pronouncing the words very carefully — it was clear he took a special interest in this subject. “He’s in charge if Donal dies in a fight!”
“Gracious,” Helen said thoughtfully, trying to assure Eamon she was listening even as she tried to keep abreast of what Niall was doing. He’d stepped up to the table, and she shuffled a little closer, wanting to hear the contents of the report.
“Not that Donal would ever lose a fight,” Eamon was telling her seriously. “He’s the best sword fighter in the whole world, and so’s his wife. For now,” he added. “One day I’ll beat both of them.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle at the mental image of the imperious Eamon challenging the huge blond man at the table to a sword fight. “I bet you will.”
“Niall, it’s good to see you,” Donal said, rising to his feet. He was almost as tall as Niall, she realized with surprise — these Scottish men certainly were huge. Picturing the pint-sized Anna at Donal’s side made a grin spread across her face. They were certainly quite the couple.
“Laird Donal. I’ve unfortunate news.”
“Is that so?” He gestured for Niall to take a seat at the table — but then his eyes fell on Helen and Eamon. “Ah! This must be the famous Helen I’ve been hearing so much about.”
“And me! I’m Eamon!”
“Hush, lad,” Niall said quickly, his eyes flicking to Donal — but the Laird was laughing, his gray eyes sparkling.
“Forgive me, Eamon. It’s a pleasure to see you.”
Clearly a little taken aback, the usually confident Eamon hid his face in Helen’s shoulder. She grinned, moving forward at Donal’s invitation. “Laird Donal,” she said, attempting a curtsy like the ones she’d seen the servants make. “I’m glad to meet you, finally, to thank you for your hospitality in person.”
“Of course,” Donal said, inclining his head. “Please, join us. Castle Urquhart is full of women from the future, it seems — and every single one of them a valued addition to our numbers. You’re more than welcome. Are you adjusting well? Anna tells me you’re fitting in well.”
“I think so,” she said, smiling.
“Made a few friends, I see,” the man Eamon had called Malcolm broke in, a mischievous smile on his face. This was Nancy’s husband, she remembered.
“She’s been a great help keeping this little rapscallion in check,” Niall said, an amused smile dancing across his face. “One of her many talents. But I’ve somber news, I’m afraid. This afternoon, we were out sailing when we chanced upon a raft. It was abandoned, empty” he paused and lowered his voice, so Eamon couldn’t hear, and Helen put her hand over his ear to help muffle Niall’s words, “— and stained with blood. And it wasn’t the first. A week ago, Helen here spotted a couple of rafts washed ashore. One of those, too, had blood on it. I’m concerned something’s broken through the Burgh and is preying on fishermen.”
“The Monster ought to have caught it, surely,” Donal said with a frown. “We’d best check in with Maggie. Malcolm, do you mind making a trip later?”
“Aye, I’ll go now,” the man said immediately, rising to his feet. “If this thing’s been hunting for a week, we’d best act quickly.”
“And we’ll double the watch on the Loch for the next few nights. See to it, Brendan?”
“Aye, I’ll go now,” Brendan said, giving Helen a nod as he rose and headed out.
Donal looked troubled.
“Niall, you spend more time with the fishermen than I do. Anyone missing lately?”
“Not that I’ve heard of,” Niall said solemnly, “but there are plenty of men I don’t see for weeks on end at the best of times. It’s possible some are missing as we speak.”
“Are you able to make some enquiries? If we’ve lost villagers…”
“Aye, I’ll ask around.”
“Try to keep it casual,” Donal said. “Best to avoid panicking the villagers. You know how rumors spread around here.”
“Aye, I’ll figure something out. Some way of asking …”
“I can help,” Helen said quickly, shifting Eamon a little on her lap as he wriggled. “I’ve got a knack for asking casual questions that get a lot of information back.”
“Helen was an investigator in her time,” Niall explained to Donal.
She smiled a little at the tone of pride in his voice. It was almost as though he was bragging about her. An odd feeling… but a very pleasant one.
“Oh, aye? A little like Elena?”
“A little,” she said cautiously, not sure whether it was appropriate to get into the distinctions between a policewoman and a PI at a time like this. “At any rate, I want to help however I can.”
“Much appreciated,” Donal said, giving her a smile. “Let me know what you find, yes?”
“Aye, we will, Laird. Thank you.”
Niall, Helen and Eamon headed back to the cottage — but not before a brief stop in the kitchens, where to Helen’s acute relief, Blair was just pulling a tray full of pastries out of the oven. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Eamon, a half-smile appearing on her severe face then vanishing as soon as Helen spotted it. If Helen hadn’t known any better, she’d have sworn Blair had a soft spot for the rambunctious four-year-old… and she was very grateful for the parcel of pastries the headwoman gave them to take home.
Once they were down at the docks, Helen was itching to start asking around… but Niall shook his head.
“I think we’d be best to wait until morning. Most of the fishermen are home by now, anyway — and I’d rather not start rumors spreading. We’ll see if Donal’s doubled guards see anything and go from there.”
Helen nodded. “Gives us some time to work on a strategy, too — come up with a few reasons we might be asking after fishermen who haven’t been here for a while. I’ll play up the innocent newcomer angle — pretend I’m just interested in how things work around here.”
He smiled at her. “Good idea. You’re good at this.”
“It was my job.” She shrugged. “No offence to your gender, or anything, but half the time the best way to get information out of men is to pretend to be dumb so they’ll explain it to you.”
He laughed, a surprisingly loud sound, and she raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. I just… that’s what Erin used to say,” he said, an odd smile on his face. “Early in our courtship, I taught her how to sail... or at least, I thought I did. Weeks later, she revealed she’d known how to sail since she was ten years old, but she found it so funny to watch me explain that she didn’t let on.”
“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” Helen said, smiling a little.
They were sitting together at the dining table again, Eamon off in his own room playing some elaborate game with his toy soldiers.
“Aye, she was. You remind me of her, a little,” he said softly, tilting his head. Then a shadow crossed his face. “I apologize if that’s strange.”
“Why would it be strange?” she asked, her heart beating a little faster… but then there was a shriek from Eamon’s room and the spell was broken.
Niall got to his feet, apologizing again as he headed in to check what catastrophe had befallen his son this time, leaving Helen to wonder exactly what he had meant by that. Why would it be strange for her to remind him of his wife? Unless… was it possible that he was referring to feelings he might have for her? Feelings beyond friendship? She could barely dare to let herself hope… her heart was pounding so quickly in her chest that she had to take a few deep, steadying breaths to try to get control of it. Was it possible that they had a future together? She thought back to what Kay had said, feeling a smile try to creep across her face at the very thought. It was complicated, of course, her realistic side said sharply. He was still grieving his wife… he had a four-year
-old child… and now there was the mystery of the bloodied rafts to contend with, the possibility that the harbor he was master of was under threat. It was no time to entertain a new romance — not for either of them, really.
But she couldn’t help but think, as she drifted off to sleep that night, that maybe — just maybe — those complications could be overcome…
Chapter 18
Helen woke bright and early — and surprisingly hungry. She supposed it had been a light dinner, the day before — she and Niall had been deep in conversation about what could be causing the appearances of the bloodied raft. She dressed quickly, marveling at how easy she now found it to slip into the gown she’d found so cumbersome when she’d first put it on. Then it was a quick, bracing walk along the docks and up the stairs to the castle for breakfast.
None of the other women were anywhere in sight — it was a little earlier than they tended to come down for breakfast, after all. So Helen took a seat with a few of the friends she’d made among the servants… and quickly found herself distracted by the gossip they were sharing.
“He just disappeared, they said! Straight off the end of the jetty.”
“They don’t know that,” another woman corrected the first, her eyes narrowed in vexation. “They don’t know that he went into the Loch. He could just as easily have walked off his post and into town to spend the night with a lover, or something. You don’t know.”
“He had a lover in town? Who?”
“I don’t know! It’s possible, that’s all! All we know is that he didn’t come back from his post this morning with all the other guards, and Captain Brendan was looking very vexed when he went to talk to the Laird —”
“Who’s this?” Helen interjected, worry gripping her stomach. The women peered at her.
“One of the guards didn’t come home from his post last night,” the nearest one said solemnly. “He’s gone missing. And with Laird Donal mysteriously doubling the guard on the Loch overnight, well, it’s easy to put the pieces together, isn’t it?”
“Is it?” Helen asked, playing dumb. The easiest way to get more information out of people, after all, was to make them feel like they could show off how well-informed they were. Sure enough, the woman warmed to her topic.
“Oh, aye, of course it is! There’s something afoot, right? Some great nasty has come creepin’ through the Burgh. Laird Donal found out about it, so he doubled the guard to make sure it didn’t come and eat us all in our sleep. But unfortunately for the guard in question, it ate him instead!”
The women dissolved into frightened giggles — one older servant was scolding the woman who’d spoken, but Helen felt real fear prickling at her stomach, thinking of the bloodied rafts. Was it possible that whatever creature was stalking fishermen had come to claim a guard?
“Was there any sign of a struggle?” she asked, a little afraid of the answer. “On the docks, or anything?”
“I don’t know,” one of the servants said, eyes gleaming. “Might sneak away to have a look, though!”
“Don’t you dare. Blair’ll have your guts for garters if you leave your post again after what happened last time —”
“I heard there’s other disappearances,” another servant spoke up — a quiet man who’d been listening intently to the conversation but not contributing much. “Janey told me —”
A chorus of groans went up. “Oh, you and Janey again —”
“He never shuts up about Janey,” one of the servants told Helen, bright-eyed.
“She’s going to be my wife one day, of course I talk about her!” the young man said hotly. “But if you don’t want to know —”
“I want to know,” Helen said, a little too quickly. But thankfully, it seemed the young man was determined to tell his story.
“She said there are fishermen going missing. She said her uncle’s got a good friend who lives well out of town. He usually comes into the village for supplies and a drink or two once a week, but he wasn’t there on his usual night.”
Helen felt fear prickling at her stomach. “Has anyone gone to check on him? Maybe he’s just unwell.”
“Aye, maybe,” the young man shrugged. “Or maybe the beastie’s got him.”
Helen returned to her meal, sobered by the conversation she’d overheard … and determined to head down and tell Niall as soon as she could. She asked a few more details about the missing fisherman that the young man had mentioned and got a name and a rough address — enough information, hopefully, that Niall would know who she was talking about. Then she finished her porridge, bid her friends a good day, and headed off down the stairs toward the docks, eager to fill Niall in on the recon she’d already managed to do. He’d probably be on the main dock at this time, she figured, helping the fishermen bring in their catches…
But she wasn’t prepared for the scene she walked in on. There was Niall, sure enough — but he was absolutely surrounded by a big group of fishermen. And all of them looked angry. Furious, even — and not just angry, she thought as she scanned their faces, her training kicking in. This was the kind of angry that came from fear. They were scared of something. And she had a good feeling that she knew what they were afraid of.
Before she could think, something knocked into her knees. She looked down, shocked to find Eamon clutching at her legs, shaking, clearly distraught — he’d come running out of the crowd, and though a few sympathetic faces had turned in his direction, the energy of the crowd remained hostile. Helen reached down to scoop Eamon into her arms, surprised by how natural that movement felt — two weeks ago, she’d have had no idea how to go about holding a child, but Eamon settled onto her hip as though he belonged there. He buried his face in her shoulder again, sniffling a little — she could feel him shaking.
“What’s wrong, buddy? What’s going on?”
“The fishermen are all yellin’ at Da,” he said, voice low and worried. “They’re real mad about something and I don’t know what it is, and nobody will tell me.”
“It’s okay, buddy,” she said softly, jiggling him a little on her hip. They did that in movies to calm babies down, right? It must work. But Eamon didn’t seem particularly soothed. “We’ll figure out what’s going on, I promise.”
“There are five men missing,” one of the fishermen called suddenly, his voice breaking through the low hubbub of the crowd as he strode forward to confront Niall. Niall squared up to him, and she was reminded again of what a tall man he was, how broad and powerful… but this fisherman didn’t look intimidated at all. He was a short man, much shorter than Niall, with dark hair and a strong build.
“Perry, I’m as worried as you are. I spoke with the Laird yesterday — he’s in the process of investigating —”
“Oh, aye? Is he doing that by sacrificin’ his guards to whatever’s out there? One of his men is missing since last night, too.”
Helen bit her lip. Word travelled fast around here, it seemed. Hadn’t she only just heard that fresh gossip upstairs?
“We’re men of the Loch. We’ve encountered this kind of thing before,” Niall was saying, projecting his voice so it echoed across the water. “If these disappearances have something to do with the Burgh, we’ll get to the bottom of it. For now, we know how to deal with Unseelie Fae. Don’t we? They come out at night — so we keep to the daylight hours.”
A murmur of dissent went up at that, and he raised his hands. “I know that’s not ideal for —”
“Our best fishing’s done before dawn!” yelled one of the fishermen. “You’re asking us to cut our catches in half —”
“It’s better than losing your life, isn’t it?” Niall snapped. “Be sensible, now —”
“I know what this is,” said the man Niall had called Perry, his voice low and ugly. “This is that pet Monster everyone’s so fond of. It’s finally turned on us.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Niall shouted — but the voices of the crowd were clearly in support of Perry’s idea.
Helen bit h
er lip — were the fishermen going to turn on the Monster?
“The Monster is a Seelie creature. It protects us from the worst the Burgh has to offer — it would never do us harm.”
“Aye, that’s what we’ve been told. But I don’t trust it. And if I see it, I can tell you — it’s getting a spear through its head and no mistake.”
Niall kept trying to reason with the crowd, but it was clear they’d heard enough — the fishermen scattered, muttering to each other with scowls on their faces. Helen hurried up to Niall, who was standing on the dock looking utterly dejected. He barely mustered a smile when he saw her — though she appreciated the effort.
“So you’ve heard,” he said drily. “It seems our investigation didn’t need to be quite so clandestine. Five fishermen missing — that we know of.”
“And a guard,” she said, biting her lip. “Taken off the end of the pier, if the servants are to be believed.”
“Not good,” Niall said simply. But they were both disturbed by a low whine from Eamon, whose tearful eyes were now peeping up at his father from Helen’s shoulder. “What’s the matter, little man?”
“Don’t like those men,” he said truculently, his voice low.
Helen could feel his body trembling, and Niall sighed.
“Little man, please — please no tantrums now, okay?”
“I’m not!” Eamon howled — but Helen could feel him tensing up, see the tears spilling over his cheeks as his feelings got the best of him.
Niall sighed, scooping him out of her arms as he began to thrash and shout, drumming his tiny fists against Niall’s back and kicking with his legs.
“Sorry about this,” he said in a low voice, but Helen shook her head, all business.
“Let’s go back inside where it’s quiet, okay? We’ll sort this out and then talk about our next move,” she added, gesturing to the wailing child.
Niall nodded, a look of gratitude in his eyes as he followed her, and she realized with a shock that he was glad to have her around. She supposed it would have been a lot of work, looking after Eamon all by himself for so long. Handling a tantrum like this one on her own... the prospect seemed impossible. She was glad she was there to help. It was the least she could do, after all the kindness that Niall had shown her.
Needed By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 5) Page 11
