She shrugged. He would learn soon enough of the sorrows to come.
“Can ye tell me what woman I must choose, then?” Connor asked, worry furrowing his brow.
“Ach, the lass will choose ye,” she said, and pinched his cheek. “Ye just must be wise enough to know it.”
She looked to the cottage door just before the sound of the knock. Alex, who was closest, opened it and laughed when he saw the little girl with wild, unkempt red hair standing there.
“ ’Tis only Ian’s wee friend Sileas,” he said, as he pulled her inside and shut the door against the cold.
The girl’s large green eyes took in the room, then settled on Ian.
“What are ye doing wandering alone outside in the dark?” Ian asked her.
“I came to find ye, Ian,” the girl said.
“How many times must I tell ye to be careful?” Ian tightened his mantle and turned to the others. “I’d best take her back to her da.”
The old woman thought the lass’s da should be skinned alive for letting the wee bairn wander about as he did. But he was not the sort of man who had much use for a daughter.
“Were ye no afraid the faeries would snatch ye?” she asked.
Sileas shook her head. Ach, the poor child knew that the faeries steal only the children who are most precious to their parents.
“Come on, then,” Ian said, taking the wee girl’s hand. “I’ll tell ye a story about a selkie as we walk.”
Sileas looked up at the lad, and her eyes shone as if God himself had sent the strongest and bravest warrior in all the Highlands to be her protector.
CHAPTER 1
ISLE OF SKYE
1508
Sileas’s outstretched hands bumped and scraped against the rough earthen walls, touch replacing sight, as she raced through the blackness. Small creatures skittered before her, running in fear as she did.
But there was no echo of footsteps behind her. Yet.
A circle of gray light appeared ahead, signaling the end of the tunnel. When she reached it, Sileas dropped to her hands and knees and crawled through the narrow opening, mud dragging at her skirts.
Brambles scratched her face and hands as she scrambled out the other side. A burst of clean sea air surrounded her, blowing away the dank, new-grave smell of the tunnel. Sileas sucked in great lungfuls of it, but she had no time to stop.
Startled sheep stared or trotted out of her way as Sileas clambered up the hill. She prayed that she had not already missed him. When she finally reached the path, she flattened herself behind a boulder to wait. Before she could catch her breath, she heard hoofbeats.
She had to be certain it was Ian. With her heart thudding in her ears, she peeked around the boulder.
As soon as the rider rounded the bend, she shouted his name and jumped out onto the path.
“That was dangerous, Sil,” Ian said, after pulling his horse up hard. “I nearly rode over ye.”
Ian looked so handsome on his fine horse, with his dark hair flying and the glow of sunset shining all about him, that for a long moment Sileas forgot the urgency of her trouble.
“What are ye doing out here?” Ian asked. “And how did ye get so filthy?”
“I’m escaping my step-da,” Sileas said, coming back to herself. “I came out the secret tunnel when I saw them turn ye away at the front gate.”
“I was going to stay the night on my way home,” he said, “but they told me half the castle was ill with some pestilence and sent me away.”
“They lied to ye,” she said, reaching her hand up to him. “We must hurry before they notice I’m gone.”
Ian hoisted her up in front of him. Though her back stung like the devil, she leaned against him and sighed. She was safe.
She’d missed Ian these last months when he was off at the Scottish court and fighting on the border. This felt like old times, when she was a wee girl and Ian was always helping her out of one scrape or another.
But she was in trouble as never before. If she’d had a doubt about how dire her situation was, seeing the Green Lady hover over her bed weeping was a clear warning.
When Ian turned the horse back in the direction of the castle, she jerked upright and spun around to face him. “What are ye doing?”
“I’m taking ye back,” Ian said. “I’m no going to be accused of kidnapping.”
“But ye must get me away! The bastard intends to marry me to the worst of the MacKinnons.”
“Mind your tongue,” Ian said. “Ye shouldn’t call your step-da a bastard.”
“You’re no listening to me. The man is going to make me wed
Ian stopped his horse. “Ye must be mistaken. Even your bastard of a step-da wouldn’t do that. All the same, I promise I’ll tell my da and uncle what ye said.”
“I’ll tell them myself when ye take me to them.”
Ian shook his head. “I’m no starting a clan war by stealing ye away. Even if what ye say is true, there will be no
