Swept By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance-Highlander Forever Book 3

by Preston, Rebecca

  No, Elena decided, shaking herself. She knew Una. Una had saved her from the Loch, had been her friend since she’d arrived. Una wouldn’t be a murderer — and if she was, she’d have told Elena by now, or Elena would have figured it out. She was a good detective. That was why she kept having so many strange dreams about trying desperately to solve a case that kept slipping away from her grasp. For no reason at all, she thought of what Brendan had said about Fae having the ability to alter people’s minds. That had been what the dream had felt like — like chasing some vital piece of information, then having your mind pulled away from it… Strange, she thought, yanking her boots on. Maybe Una would know more. Now she’d told Elena she was a Fae creature, maybe she’d tell her a little bit more about what kind of powers other Fae had. After all, she was very old, right? She’d have had plenty of experience with other Fae creatures. Maybe she’d know what could be doing this to the men.

  Elena headed downstairs, feeling a little groggy from her poor night of sleep but still keen for breakfast. Anna caught her in the entrance hall, and she realized belatedly that she’d agreed to a training session. Well, she supposed the more she trained, the better. If she wanted to be a guard one day, she’d have to be good with a sword… probably a lot better than the average man, if what Anna had said was true. God, that was exhausting. Maybe it would be good if all the men fell sick and wasted away. Then maybe women could finally get a fair go.

  She frowned to herself at that thought. That wasn’t like her.

  “You okay?” Anna asked around a mouthful of porridge. She was clearly looking forward to their lesson.

  “Yeah, fine. Just — had a bad night of sleep. Weird dreams. Keep thinking weird stuff.”

  “Yeah?” Anna looked interested. “Nancy and I both had a bunch of dreams when we came through. I think it’s a Fae thing, sometimes… a way of sending you messages.”

  She nodded, remembering the dream she’d had that had revealed what had happened with Una’s escape from the Sidhe. “Yeah, I’ve had a few of those, too. But this one was just… I don’t know. Stress dreams. Chasing stuff, being chased, never quite figuring out what you’re looking for… or what’s looking for you…”

  “Yeah, I know those ones,” Anna nodded. “Had a lot of those in my Army days. Training will help,” she said, grinning. “No better stress relief than beating the shit out of someone or something with a wooden stick.”

  “Did they teach you sword fighting in the Army?”

  “Nah, it was my hobby. Came in handy, though. Now c’mon. Finish your porridge then come fight me.”

  It was a grueling morning — but Elena had to admit, Anna was right about the stress relief. By the time they’d called it a day, both sweating and breathing hard, the last thing on her mind were the strange dreams she’d been having. And she was feeling good about her progress. They’d attracted an audience — a man she’d seen around the castle, one of the guards, emerged from the hall not long after they had and stood by, watching them spar. Elena had felt a little self conscious at first, but she’d quickly forgotten he was there. Then, she disarmed Anna — and she heard the man applaud. It felt good, to get a bit of recognition for all her hard work. And the fact that this man was clearly a guard meant that impressing him might be valuable if she ever wanted a uniform of her own.

  Breathing hard, she headed inside with Anna — and to her surprise, the guard followed them. Up close, he was a little skinnier than she’d thought — the armor disguised it, but his frame wasn’t nearly as bulky as someone like Brendan’s. He looked a little peaky around the face, too, and she frowned a little — was that why he wasn’t on the walls? Was he sick? She wasn’t interested in catching a cold — she took a quick step back when he moved into her space.

  “I don’t think we’ve met,” she said quickly, to cover the awkwardness. “I’m Elena.”

  “Elena?” he repeated, and it almost sounded like a question. Strange. “Oh. Of course. Elena.” He flicked a glance to Anna. “I’m Eamon.”

  “Good to meet you, Eamon,” she said, a little puzzled by his odd behavior. The sickness, maybe — it could be messing with his hearing? “What’d you think of our sparring match out there?”

  “Reckon this one’s got potential?” Anna asked, grinning as she elbowed Elena in the ribs.

  “Oh, yes. Beautiful fight,” Eamon said, smiling at both of them with a look in his eyes that made Elena feel a little uncomfortable. “Truly. It suits you.”

  “I mean, I didn’t do it to look good, but thanks,” she said, shrugging. “I’d better go wash up. Good to meet you, Eamon.”

  “That was creepy,” Anna said as they climbed the staircase, leaving the guard standing in the hall where they’d been talking. “The way he was staring at you —”

  “Okay, so I wasn’t imagining it. Weird, right?”

  “Definitely weird. And — out of character,” she added, frowning. “I know Eamon pretty well. He was one of the first guys to ask me for some sword fighting tips when the guards realized I knew what I was talking about. It’s not like him to get so … creepy.”

  “Yeah. I’m covered in sweat and dust. Not exactly a beauty pageant.”

  They said their farewells in the corridor — Anna was busy all afternoon, and Elena planned to take a solo ride down to Maggie’s cottage, just to get a little bit more practice on horseback in before night fell. She wanted to go visit the sick men around the village, but she didn’t quite trust her equestrian skills yet… and besides, it would be best to wait for Brendan. She washed her face in a basin of clean water in her room, tempted to take a whole bath to get the rest of the dust off her — but if she was going riding, she’d only get dirty again.

  To her surprise, when she emerged from her room, Eamon was in the corridor. The same strange look was in his eyes when he looked at her, and she frowned, looking over her shoulder briefly, wondering if he was up here to meet someone else.

  “Hi, Elena.”

  “Hi again, Eamon. Did you — need something?”

  “Nothing at all,” he said simply, still staring at her.

  Thoroughly creeped out, but not wanting to press the issue, she headed down the corridor, and frowned as she heard the sound of his footsteps behind her. What was going on? Sure enough, he followed her down the stairs, across the hall, into the dining hall where lunch was being served. Thankfully, she found Nancy, and sat down with her to eat — but she could feel Eamon’s eyes on the back of her neck. He sat at a nearby table, nothing but a breadroll on his plate, and when they left the dining hall she could see that he hadn’t taken so much as a bite out of it.

  What the hell was going on?

  “This guard’s following me,” she told Nancy in a low voice as they headed into the entry hall again. “He’s being kind of creepy about it, too.”

  “That’s not a nice way to talk about Brendan,” Nancy joked — but her face fell at the look she got from Elena. “Sorry. Really?” She glanced over her shoulder. “Eamon? He’s always been — fine.” She frowned a little. “Is he sick? He doesn’t look so good.”

  “I don’t know, he just… he’s been following me since I trained with Anna. Maybe even before that, I don’t know, he’s keeping his distance a bit, but still…”

  “You don’t think Brendan’s having him follow you?” Nancy asked, keeping her voice low so Eamon wouldn’t overhear. “Maybe he’s worried about you.”

  A flash of their conversation the night before. Elena gritted her teeth — that would make a lot of sense. It would explain the guy’s dogged pursuit of her, and his refusal to articulate why it was he was following her. God, that was annoying. “You know you’re probably right? God, that’s… that’s so condescending.”

  “Yeah, I’d hate that,” Nancy said flatly. “If Malcolm had me followed I’d cut holes in all his socks.”

  Despite her annoyance, she couldn’t help but giggle at that mental image. “Good idea. Maybe I’ll try that.”

  “You
could go ask him about it. He’s just out there on the walls.”

  Elena nodded, a grim look in her eye as she said her goodbyes to Nancy and headed out for the walls. Eamon trailed along behind her, and she gritted her teeth. It was time to give Brendan a piece of her mind.

  Chapter 43

  Elena strode across the courtyard, her braided hair swinging out behind her as she accelerated, and the anger pulsed in her gut. What kind of a condescending asshole was this guy? They had that whole conversation last night about how he trusted her to take care of herself and didn’t want her to think he thought she was a child… then he set some armed guard to follow her around? As if she wouldn’t notice? Not only was the guy not subtle at all — she’d seen more discreet tailing from an over-enthusiastic Labrador following someone with food — but she was a detective! Did he really think she wasn’t going to notice that he had her under guard? And what was the plan if she went for a ride, like she’d been planning? Would this guy have stopped her leaving? Or worse — would he have ridden along behind her with that stupid look on his face?

  She glanced over her shoulder, grimacing as she saw the guard trailing after her. The worst part was, he looked like crap. Even if the worst happened and she did get attacked by some kind of Fae monster, what good would he be? He could barely walk fast enough to keep up with her now — he was breathing hard, clearly very unwell, his face pinched and sallow and his eyes unfocused. There was a certain grim determination in the way he was trying to keep up with her, but aside from that, there was no indication he’d do any good at all if it became necessary to protect her. This was Brendan’s idea of keeping her safe? It was insulting. She could beat this guy up with her eyes closed — and if he hadn’t seemed so abjectly pathetic, she might have.

  She climbed the stairs inside the wall, her head held high, not brooking any disagreement from any of the guards who she passed on the way. A few of them raised surprised eyebrows, but none of them tried to stop her. She could hear them whispering to each other as she strode past them, and she clenched her jaw. Good. Let them whisper. She hoped all of this would embarrass Brendan enormously.

  He was standing on the top of the wall, gazing out over the gate into the forest beyond the castle. She knew Eamon was on her heels — she glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see that he was still at the bottom of the stairs. Two of the guards had stopped him and seemed to be talking to him with concern in their voices. Probably because he looked so miserable, she thought, frowning a little. Well, good.

  “Elena! This is a surprise.” Brendan smiled as he turned from his post to greet her, and she hardened her heart against his handsome face. God, he looked good in that armor. He’d probably look even better out of it — stop it, Elena. Focus on what he did.

  “What’s the big idea?” she demanded. His smile faded a little and he blinked at her.

  “What big idea?”

  “Having me followed. Did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? He’s the least subtle tail I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  Brendan was frowning at her. “Who is? Who’s tailing you?”

  “Don’t insult me by playing dumb,” she snapped, irritated by the deliberately confused look on his face. “Eamon. Your buddy. He’s been following me since after breakfast. First he watched me and Anna spar, and I assumed he was just interested… but then he followed me to my room, back down the stairs, sat near me at lunch, and now he’s waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs like some kind of pathetic… what?”

  Brendan was frowning. “Elena — I know what it must look like, but I promise you, I didn’t have anyone follow you. Eamon’s not even on duty this week. Nobody’s seen him for days.”

  “What?” She blinked, a little thrown by this development… and a bit annoyed that she couldn’t keep venting her anger. “Seriously? That guy down there —” she pointed down the stairs. Eamon had gotten past the two guards who’d been talking to him and was laboring his way up the stairs, his eyes fixed on her and that vacant, desperate expression affixed firmly to his face. “That’s the one?”

  “Aye, that’s Eamon,” Brendan said, and there was anger in his voice now. “You say he’s been following you around? Eamon! Get up here.”

  She hadn’t heard that tone in his voice before — but she recognized it instantly, felt her own spine stiffen in response. It was the voice of a commander — the voice of a captain — the voice that Captain Jacques always used when she wanted to strike the fear of God into her men and women. And it was, Elena admitted in her heart of hearts, incredibly hot. Focus, Elena, this isn’t about your stupid libido…

  “Lady Elena has just informed me you’ve been following her around,” Brendan was saying to Eamon, who had successfully reached the top of the stairs. “Is it true?”

  “Lady Elena,” Eamon repeated stupidly. “Aye.”

  “Aye, you’ve been following her around?”

  “Lady Elena —”

  “What’s wrong with you, man? Pull yourself together. You haven’t reported for duty for three days, we’ve all been worried about you — I assumed you’d gotten into the whisky and gone on some sort of extended… are you alright?”

  “Aye,” he said dully, not taking his eyes from Elena.

  Brendan scowled, and called to the guards at the bottom of the stairs, clearly impatient with the man. But Elena’s anger had changed to concern. What was wrong with this man? Why was he staring at her so strangely and desperately?

  “Take Eamon to a quiet room, would you?” Brendan was instructing the other guards, looking testy. “He needs to lie down and get his senses back. Don’t you, Eamon?”

  “Aye.”

  He struggled a little as the two guards politely took him by the arms and walked him down the stairs. The last Elena saw of him were his eyes, still staring wildly at her, as he disappeared beneath the stone surface of the wall. Brendan watched him go, too, and she could see the worry in his body.

  “That’s strange,” he said, frowning. “Very strange. Eamon’s usually nothing but polite and chivalrous to women, lonely old bastard though he might be… but the way he was staring at you was downright unseemly. I’m sorry for that,” he added, looking up at her.

  “It’s not your fault.” Elena shrugged, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed about the force of the fury with which she’d climbed up the wall. She turned, not wanting to look straight at Brendan, to admire the view from the top of the wall. “This isn’t a bad place to spend your days.”

  “Aye, it’s a living,” Brendan said, grinning. But there was a faraway note in his voice, and he seemed distracted when he moved up beside her to lean on the wall.

  “You’re worried about your man, aren’t you?”

  “Aye,” Brendan said softly. “It’s not like him to be that way. And what’s more… I’ve seen that look before, or something like it. He looks like he’s lost weight, and that vacant look… I’m worried it’s the sickness again.”

  Elena bit her lip, her mind flying to Una. “The one that’s affecting the farmers?”

  “Aye. Eamon’s been missing a few days… who knows where he could’ve contracted it?” Brendan frowned. “But none of the other men were following people around. Why was he following you like that?”

  “I mean, you can see why I thought you might’ve ordered him to,” Elena pointed out, still a little embarrassed.

  He nodded, reaching out to squeeze her arm in a reassuring gesture that made her smile. “Aye. But if I were to set an armed guard after you, I’d tell you about it, so you didn’t take them out,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I care about the safety of my men, you see.”

  “Didn’t you say the sick men talked about a woman? Maybe…” She shrugged. “Maybe he thought I was the woman, or something?”

  “They talked about a woman in green, that’s right. You’re not wearing green.”

  Yes, she thought to herself, her stomach sinking, but Una’s wearing green. Una’s never worn anything but green. And a
side from our choices of clothing and her pitch black eyes, Una could be my sister. But she couldn’t tell Brendan that, for all that it might be a lead — because doing so would reveal Una’s existence to him. And no matter how worried she was about the increase of the sickness among the men of the area, she had to keep Una safe. There was still too much circumstantial evidence, too much likelihood that Brendan would jump to the wrong conclusion and want to imprison Una against her will. She’d spent far too long in captivity or being victimized by men with iron swords.

  “What are you thinking?” Brendan asked, mirroring her question from earlier with an amused smile on his face. “You look a little lost.”

  I am, she wanted to say. Instead, she shrugged. “Just worried about the disease. If it’s this bad for Eamon, what about the other victims?”

  “Aye, you’re right,” he said, heaving a great sigh as he looked out over the walls. “It’s too late to head out to visit the afflicted farmers and woodcutters now, but I plan to head out first thing in the morning. Are you still keen to join me?”

  Elena nodded. “Absolutely. I might be able to help.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Brendan said, squeezing her hand again. “I’m not just inviting you for the pleasure of your company, Elena, though that would be reason enough. I want your sharp mind on my side. You’re observant. We can use your eyes.”

  She smiled, a little flattered by the recognition. It was certainly more than her father had ever offered her — the best he’d managed was a grudging congratulations when she made detective, and even that had had to be bullied out of him by her brothers. God, the idea of never seeing him again was… strange. Almost liberating, in a strange way. Could I really stay here? she wondered? Could I make a home in this strange place, this place without running water or electricity, this odd castle with all its quirks? She was beginning to feel like she could. And Brendan had a lot to do with that, she realized. She was falling for him faster than she was happy with… especially given that they had such an enormous, unresolved secret standing between them. A secret that he was clearly suspicious of — she could tell by the way he was scanning her face, clearly still trying to figure out what she was thinking about.