What would she say to Herrick?
Casidhe had a duty to him and his entire group. He depended on her. The people he protected depended on her, and Fenella depended on her. She could not let them down.
Sucking up her backbone, she lifted her chin and pushed away her doubts, ready to face whatever came next.
Now was the time to prove Herrick had been right to believe in her.
Determined, she gripped the sword hilt tightly and peeked around the end of the bookcase to find the office intact.
Both desks had their normal amount of clutter.
In all truthfulness, Fenella kept hers neat where Casidhe cared little about organization.
She tended to ignore clutter when she got lost in history.
Cavan’s book still sat on the side table next to her comfortable chair where she’d left it after reading a bit. That old chair had become a far better place to read than bent over a desk.
Nothing had disturbed the thick cloth she’d placed over the book to shield it from sunlight as well.
On her next deep inhale, she replaced the musty tunnel smell with the rich aroma of history. That wonderful smell lived here along with the coconut scent from the gorse she’d cut and placed in a jar with water before leaving to see Herrick. Though still pretty, the arrangement could stand to be refreshed.
Being in the middle of books had always been her happy place. Research and the thrill of discovery had kept her going forward for years, ignoring how her life flew by one year after another.
She rarely thought on how quickly time passed unless Fenella fussed at her for believing duty overrode a personal life.
But it did.
Casidhe had been trained and sent here with a mission, which she’d been warned might require a lifetime of dedication. She hadn’t been born into the Luigsech family the way Fenella had been born into her squire family.
Casidhe had been someone’s bastard.
Why else would she have been abandoned and dropped at one foster home after another?
All that changed when Herrick sent one of Fenella’s older relatives to bring Casidhe to Herrick. Casidhe had asked him years later why he’d sent for her.
He said he’d been asked to find her and would not disclose who or why someone had made that request, only that she would be treated as part of the Luigsech squire family from there on.
She’d been incredibly fortunate and asked no more questions. To this day, she counted her blessings to be part of Herrick’s world.
For that reason, she never looked at her duty as a burden, but an opportunity to prove her worthiness.
The room shifted. Chills and exhaustion shook her body as adrenaline wore off. She clutched the corner of the bookcase to steady herself.
This was not the time to buckle. She braced herself, allowing a few minutes to recover.
Back to business.
She stood the sword in a narrow corner formed by a bookcase and the opening to the reception area. Dropping to her knees, she crawled forward until she could reach Cavan’s book, which she then toted back to place next to the sword.
After a couple more trips on her knees, she had snacks from her desk piled with the book, plus one of the cushions she’d used to prop her arms on when sitting in the chair. She plopped the cushion on the floor and lifted a small keychain with an LED light she’d snagged on her last trip to the desk. Some salesperson had given those to her and Fenella. She’d tossed the trinket in her desk drawer thinking it another piece of junk.
She leaned over to hold her hand under her heavy oak desk to test the light. The beam was a concentrated glow.
Perfect.
While close enough to reach the surface, she eased the desk phone to the floor and dialed Fenella’s mobile number.
No answer.
Disappointment threatened to break her, but she had one last hope. She dialed Mr. Peadar.
He answered, “How’s about ye?”
Casidhe fell into the local dialect, which had helped her fit in with everyone. “Fine, Mr. Peadar. I wish ta surprise Fenella with somethin’ for her new goats. Can you give me an idea?”
“I could, but she did not come for them.”
Casidhe struggled to keep from giving away how those words had punched in her chest. She forced her voice to sound at ease. “Ah. I’m sure I’ll be hearin’ about what delayed her when she shows up this mornin’.”
“Tell her to come on today. They be waitin’ on her.”
Tears burned Casidhe’s eyes. “I will. Good day, sir.” She hung up the phone and curled on the floor. Everything crashed in on her from the all-night run to the terror of worrying and now knowing for sure Fenella was in trouble. She sobbed, a gut-wrenching snotty sound she would be humiliated to allow in public.
How had this happened? She hadn’t gone looking for this trouble, but she had stepped in it up to her chin.
After a while, she sat up and dragged a wad of tissues off her desk. Her chest hurt, but she’d survive. She had to pull herself together and think of how to find Fenella.
Or just wait for Cavan to show up and gloat that he had captured her.
Casidhe sniffled, wiped her nose, and turned away from the desk. She didn’t stop at her pillow seat, but made it to the middle of the bookshelves blocked from public view and stood. A quick trip to the bathroom resulted with her face washed and her lopsided ponytail straightened. Her blotchy red face was meh. She could only do so much without a pile of makeup.
She had never been considered vain, but freshening up had kept her going many hours at night in the past. She yanked off the blue sweater she’d put on over her blouse after showering last night
