Ye have tae save yer sister!
Though the conflict raged in her mind and heart, Elaine forced herself to think of Rhona. It mattered not that Duncan was not who she thought he would’ve been. The mystery man holding her sister for ransom was not like the laird at all. He was evil and cruel, even more despicable than an ordinary thug in the way he had nearly relished the idea of ruining Rhona. Elaine shivered at the thought of it. As a coldness ran through her bones, she was suddenly spurred on.
She slowly opened herdoor and peered outside, looking in both directions. Given the aftermath of the chaos, shedidn't expect anyone to show up. Everyone was probably running around in a daze, assessing the damages and trying to figure out what had happened. Meeting anyonein the corridor and beingasked where she was going would hardly be helpful. No one was about, however, and she need not worry about having to make up yet another lie.
Her heart pounding in her chest, she dashed down the hall to Duncan's chambers. She opened thedoor and slipped inside, taking one last look to her left and right. A thought occurred to her only after she had closed the door behind her and discovered the room empty. Duncan may have come to his own after leaving her in her chambers before going to survey the rest of the castle. She had neither considered it nor knocked on his door to check. She reprimanded herself, shaking her head at her stupidity.
Ye need tae be more careful.
Elaine took a deep breath and scanned the room. Her eyes fell on Duncan’s bed. She moved quickly across the room to the right side—the side hehad occupied on the occasions she had spent with him. It made sense that the velvet box mentioned by the masked man would be under that part. Elaine knelt and peered beneath the heavy wooden base.
There it was! She reached for it, and placed iton top of the furs on the bed. Her fingers ran over the red velvet's smooth surface. The exterior was plain, with no embellishments. Elaine flipped open the tiny brass clasp and pushed the lid open, allowing it to fall all the way back to rest on the bed. The ring sat there, embedded between two soft velvet cushions, as if it were the world's most important piece of jewelry.
To look at it, with its raised jade stone, one might hardly give it a second glance, for it was not in any way impressive. And yet, this small token was the only thing standing between her and Rhona’s freedom. It would hardly solve all of Elaine’s problems, however. For once she managed to get Rhona back, they would need to go on the run, far out of the reach of Duncan and his men. No doubt, when he discovered what she had done, he would send his entire army out looking for her. What she was about to do would make her a target toa man who was no stranger to death and battle. But at least her little sister, the only family she had left, would be safe.
Elaine heard a sound above the thumping of her beating heart as she reached for the ring in its snug position between the cushions. She strained to hear, turning her head. Though unsure at first, the sound became clearer as it got closer. Outside the room, boots clipped against the stone floor. Elaine remained motionless, frozen by fear, with the ring in her fingers and the box in her hand. But as the echoing sound became increasingly loud, she shook herself into action.
She shoved the ring back with trembling hands, the clipping sound only feet away from the door. She slammed the box shut and threw it away. She jumped up from her kneeling position and sat herself on the edge of the bed just in time. When the bedchamber door opened and Duncan stepped in, her heart thumped so fast she thought it might explode. When he noticed her, he came to a halt.
“What are ye doing in here?” he frowned.
“Well,” she Elaine quickly stood, moving over to the fireplace in hope that changing her position would stay any suspicions of her real reasons for being there. “I was worried about ye. I thought I might wait in yer bedchamber for yer return in case ye needed me. Ye are injured, after all,” she gestured to his arm.
Though it was an excuse under the extreme circumstances of being discovered, it was not actually a lie. For the truth of the matter was she had been worried about him. Especially when she had noticed the blood-soaked sleeve of his white shirt earlier. “I… I was going tae set up the chess board,” she said, gesturing to the board that still remained on the top of a wooden dresser across the room. “Only, I didnae expect ye back so soon. I thought ye would be busy dealing with everything downstairs.”
She was rambling and she knew it. But with her heightened worry and nervousness, she could hardly stop her mouth from moving. Why on earth would the man desire to play chess after such a dreadful invasion? It was ludicrous to say the least, and yet, her thoughts were all a muddle.
For a long moment, Duncan regarded her unexpected presence, speaking no words, as though processing what she had said. He took his time to consider her explanation. After another moment, he stepped further into the room, closing the bedchamber door behind him.
“I was advised, by the castle’s official healer, that it would be better tae dress my arm before I did anything else. Nae only tae stay any infection, but also nae tae alarm anyone who might see it.”
“Could the healer nae help ye do that?” Elaine asked, more to keep the conversation away from herself than any other reason.
“He is busy dealing with the more seriously injured. The maids and servants are helping where they can. He hardly needs tae be distracted by my superficial wound, when he has far more severe injuries tae be dealing with.”
“Oh,” Elaine replied. “How bad is it?”
“Bad enough, but naething we cannae recover from.”
“Ye’re bound tae need help with yer arm. Ye cannae dress it yourself with only one arm left,” she pressed, taking a step toward him.
He hesitated for a moment, before shaking his head. “I’ll be grand. I’ve dressed my own wounds many times before now.”
“Perhaps ye have before, when ye’ve needed tae,” Elaine nodded. “But why struggle when I’m here and able tae assist ye?”
He remained regarding her, clearly deciding if he wanted to relinquish his pride for the ease of the job until eventually, he nodded. “Fine.”
“I’ll need some hot water,” Elaine replied. “I’ll go fetch some.”
“Nae,” he said firmly. “I dinnae want a fuss. Just use the water from that jug.” He jerked his head toward the dresser where the vessel sat beside a bottle of wine.
“But I’ll need tae dress it,” Elaine protested.
Duncan turned away from her and moved across the room. Opening a drawer in a dresser behind him, he pulled out a white shirt, wincing as he tore it into strips before her.
“Ye’re quite mad,” Elaine said, shaking her head before turning to fetch the jug.
He sat and let her roll up theblood-soaked sleeve. She held his strong forearm in one hand while lightly dabbing around the wound with the other, wetting a piece of the shirt he had torn. Itwas indeedsuperficial. The blood that had run down his forearm had already dried into a crusting red line, clotting the hairs of his arm together. She cleaned away the dried blood with soft, gentle strokes, but her concentration wavered.