The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 36

Spurred by whatever had spooked Sam, they rode as quickly as their exhausted horses could carry them towards Inverloch. As the countryside grew more and more familiar, urgency overtook Isabelle's thoughts. Sam and his men had donned bright sashes of red Umberwood tartan so as not to panic the castle guards when a half dozen heavily armed riders entered the town. He'd also warned her not to gallop, once again to ensure that they weren't riding into a trap.

Sam had been just as uneasy as Isabelle that the ride to Kentshire had been so uneventful. His rear scouts had sighted a member of the royal guard a few miles from Dunwood, but there hadn't been any further signs of pursuit. Now that home was so close, however, Isabelle didn't have time to think about the ominous sense of foreboding swirling around the edges of her thoughts.

Even Alabaster seemed anxious to return home, hastening his pace without any urging from Isabelle. Sam pressed his tired horse to keep up since Isabelle couldn't bring herself to slow down. Not when they were passing the shores of Loch Velland, the massive lake that nestled up against both Inverloch and Kentshire castle's grounds.

The air smelled like home, like fresh snow and crisp pine smoke. It was enough to catch her breath in her throat, reigniting the fierce homesickness she'd battled throughout her stay in Highcastle.

When they rounded the bend in the road and the first buildings of Inverloch appeared, Isabelle couldn't stop herself from throwing caution to the wind. Alabaster mustered as much of a gallop as he could, tearing through the streets as Kentshire castle rose out of the mists just beyond the town.

"Isabelle!" Sam shouted in warning, but she couldn't hear anything besides the thundering of the blood in her ears and Alabaster's hooves on the frozen ground.

She was home. She was a few minutes from seeing her father, from hearing his laugh and seeing his smile. She was less than a mile from his study that smelled of cigars and leather-bound books, from the castle she'd called home for her entire life.

Alabaster was foaming as she galloped past the castle gate guards, Sam hot on her heels and still shouting at her. Isabelle's hood had fallen back, her hair slipping free from Lissa's bun as the wind tugged at it The guards that had lifted their lances to block Isabelle's path scattered, either thanks to Sam's tartan or because they'd identified the galloping rider as the duke's daughter, despite her masculine attire.

She swung down off Alabaster's back and sprinted across the courtyard toward the castle, her aching legs roaring in protest. Before she could throw open the doors, however, Marcus was there, barring her path until recognition jolted across his face.

"Where's Papa?" Isabelle demanded, skidding to a halt before him. Marcus remained in the doorway, his eyes jumping between Isabelle and the retinue of Umberwood men now flooding into the castle courtyard.

"You shouldn't be here," Marcus said, hastily reaching over her shoulder to tug her hood back over her head. "Hurry, get inside."

Sam was beside her in an instant, panting as he ran wary eyes over her father's estate agent.

"She goes nowhere without me," Sam said, using his boot to prevent Marcus from slamming the door.

"Then get inside and for goodness' sake hide that tartan," Marcus said, impatiently gesturing for Sam to enter and shut the door behind him. "You might as well have heralded her arrival with a parade and bunting, riding in like that!"

"What's the matter?" Isabelle demanded, her hood still up. "Where is Papa?"

"Hush," Marcus hissed with a nervous look around. "There is much to explain."

Isabelle looked to Sam, dread coiling around her heart before she followed Marcus through the entrance hall and up the stairs. Marcus had rarely ever been this sharp with her, more of a kindly old man than a stern one. That he was rushing them quickly through the halls towards his study with not a word of explanation had ignited even more panic in Isabelle's mind. When Marcus gestured for them to sit, she chose instead to pace as the estate agent poked around the room, checking behind each of the curtains and tapestries before throwing open the service door and peering around.