Lady Eilean

Chapter 44

A wicked wind blew against me, threatening to knock me sideways. My cloak snapped around me, the wool knocking against my leather boots. Wool and leather squelched in the ankle-deep snow. Locks of my hair pulled free from my braid and stuck to my face with clinging wetness. A dull, hot blaze settled into my toes; the confusing sensation of burning as my feet succumbed to frostbite.

Standing at the top of a stony overlook, peering down across the lowlands, I wait. I watch. It is futile. In the blizzard conditions, I could hardly see my hand in front of my face, let alone the dark outline of trees visible between gusts of swirling flurries.

"Eilean!" Someone's voice is a distorted howl in the wind.

"Eilean?" The cry came again, more confused as if my pursuer lost sight of me.

"Here!" I shouted, sparing a glance over my shoulder.

A heartbeat later, Alex stood by my side, huffing. His cheeks were rosy and raw. He grabbed my arm, pulling and twisting, forcing me to face him.

"Get inside, now." He shouted over the storm. "Darkness is falling. You will catch your death out here!"

The wind ripped all sound from his words. Snow crystalized in his beard and he held his hat on his head with a mittened hand. The brim flapped, ready for flight.

I stole one last, lingering look down over the lowlands before admitting defeat, nodding my head. I allowed Alex to guide me back to the castle, our steps slow and plodding over the deep drifts.

Once inside, I rush to a porter standing near the main door.

"Please! Has there been any news?" I asked, frantic.

"No, ma'am." The boy answered, his face grim. The kid could not be any older than fifteen, but he straightened his shoulders and looked at me in the eye. "I will send word as soon as we hear, my lady."

I nodded, pulled along by Alex.

"Eilean, come on, you need dry clothes."

In my rooms, I sat dazed as Alex stripped off my sodden boots, socks, and pants; rolling dry, warm stockings up over my chilled legs. He pulled off my wet cloak and remaining clothes, passing me a flannel nightgown that had been hanging before the fire. It slipped over my frozen skin like a cocoon, bringing warmth back into my body.

Alex held my face tenderly in his hand, brushing back the curls that still clung to my cheeks. Deftly, he swept my hair back, braiding it and pinning it into a bun high on my head.

I might have fallen asleep, might have succumbed to the cold deep in my bones, the icy wet that still clung to my chilled flesh like a sticky resin. For, the next thing I realized, I was coming out of a trance by a too-hot fire. I held a mug of tea I did not remember accepting and a heavy blanket rested on my shoulders. Alex sat beside me, staring into the fire, as still as a statue.

Raising the cup to my lips, I drank, grimacing as the tea scalded my throat. I welcomed the pain, welcomed its warmth and soothing herbal familiarity. My movement was enough to pull Alex's attention away from the flames.

"Warm?" He asked, watching me carefully.

"Sweating," I admitted, pushing the blanket off my shoulders. "What time is it?"

"Nearly seven, they'll serve dinner soon." The hollowness of his voice was confirmation enough that nothing had changed.

I bit the inside of my cheek, worry overtaking me. It had been twelve hours, then.

The entire estate had been in turmoil, waiting for the return of a hunting party. They had left before dawn with plans to return by mid-day. The weather this morning had been bright, clear. Cold, but quiet. Around lunch, a violent storm blew in, blanketing the sky in darkness and dropping multiple feet of snow in less than an hour. The accumulation was relentless, helped by a cruel wind into drifts that could swallow a person whole. Landscapes, trails, roads — all obscured. In shoring up the castle, I had fallen into a drift myself, sucked into a shoulder-deep tomb of wet snow.