Elinor guided Alistair through the patchwork of fallen limbs and uprooted tree trunks that peppered the forest floor on the north side of MacCameron Castle. She rarely traveled this way. Another twenty miles toward the sea lay the edge of her family’s kingdom, which her father had declared forbidden territory for both Elinor and her mother.
However, she had spotted soldiers from Clan MacCameron engaged in combat exercises in the clearing where they usually entered, making this roundabout approach necessary. Elinor did not want to chance running into any of her father’s men.
Merida had suggested they visit the lake on the far side of the glen to continue their fishing lesson, but that would have put them much too close to Clan Fraser’s land. Instead, Elinor decided they should return to MacCameron Castle for tea. It was not as if she would be able to concentrate on fishing after her run-in with Fergus DunBroch, anyway.
She hated to admit how unsettled she was by his mere presence, but there was no denying that he left her flustered. He was confounding.
The people of this kingdom tended to show her an undue amount of respect simply because she was the king’s daughter. Fergus DunBroch did not seem to care that she was the princess. He appeared to take much pleasure in taunting her. It was infuriating.
And just a tad bit enjoyable.
She had hugged him!
Elinor was aghast that she had not been able to control her emotions. The man was insufferable, and…
“Are you sure we are going the right way, Princess?” Merida asked from a few yards behind her.
“Yes,” Elinor called over her shoulder. “There is a hidden entrance in the curtain wall. It is a secret escape route in case of an attack from the south. It shall put us on the rear side of the stables.”
She slowed Alistair to a walk as they approached the thirty-foot stone wall that surrounded MacCameron Castle.
“Look for a black stone near the base of the curtain wall,” Elinor said. “The secret entrance is a few paces past it.”
They traveled another ten yards or so before Merida said, “Over there.”
“Yes, this is it,” Elinor said. She slid off Alistair’s back and called for Merida to help her. “It is tricky to enter from the outside,” she said. “We must push three of the stones inward at the same time. It will release the hidden locking mechanism.”
“How do you know how to do this?” Merida asked.
“Aileen’s brother, Gregory, showed us when we were younger. He was several years older than we were, but he would humor us when we went into the stables to play.”
“Aileen was your playmate?” Merida asked.
Elinor nodded. “Not just Aileen. I used to play games around the bailey with many of the servants’ young children. Mother put a stop to it once she learned of it.”
“Because she does not believe the royal family should befriend the staff,” Merida said, remembering what Elinor had told her.
Elinor shrugged. “I disagree with the way both my mother and father rule. I shall never reign as queen, but if I did, I would treat my clansmen differently. I would respect them and not look down on them.”
“’Tis a shame that you are so determined to leave,” Merida said. “I believe this kingdom would thrive with you as its queen.”
Elinor had to avert her gaze for fear that the girl would see something in her eyes that Elinor did not want her to see. She swallowed past the lump of emotion suddenly welling in her throat.
“Well, we shall never know,” Elinor said. “I am sure the clans will vote on a suitable replacement to rule the kingdom once the MacCameron’s rule is over.” She pointed at the curtain wall. “Let us move along. I am in need of hot tea.” She swiped at her face and felt the rough, gritty dirt on her skin. “And a warm bath,” she added.
Elinor pointed to the stone lowest to the ground. “You push here. I shall push the other two.”
Merida flattened her palm against the stone.
Elinor gasped. “What is going on with your fingernails?” They were sharp points.
Merida quickly pulled her hand away and shoved it within the folds of her kirtle.
“’Tis nothing,” she said. “I shaped them that way to better scratch my back.” She gestured to the wall. “Let us get inside.”
Elinor frowned, wondering how she reached her back and why she would ever do such a thing to her nails when there were more convenient methods for relieving an itch.
She did not have time to worry about Merida’s strange grooming habits.
Together, the two of them pushed the three stones aside and, with not as much effort as she had expected, managed to shove the secret door open wide enough to get themselves and their horses inside.
“If I remember correctly, ’tis easier to close from this side,” Elinor said. They pushed the door back in place, then started for the entrance to the stables. She could hear the horses in the pen on the opposite side of the wooden structure. This was about the time the groomsmen took them out for their evening exercise. It should make it that much easier for her and Merida to slip Angus and Alistair inside.
They rounded the side of the building and were met with a bevy of activity. Some of the same groomsmen she would have expected to have been out in the pen with the horses were dipping in and out of the stalls as if searching for something.
“Psst…Princess.”
Elinor turned and spotted Ewan. The young groom looked terrified.
“Ewan, what is going on?” Elinor asked as she handed him Alistair’s reins.
Ewan looked over her shoulder, his eyes widening in alarm.
Elinor turned and gasped. “Father! What…what are you doing in the stables?”
“Where have you been?” King Douglass demanded.
Elinor was still so shocked to see him that she could barely think of a response. He looked out of place, dressed in clothes much too formal for the stables.
“I…I went riding with Merida,” Elinor finally answered. “We were—”
“Do you understand how dangerous it is for you to be out in these woods without protection, Elinor? What if you had been hurt, or worse, kidnapped?” His eyes narrowed. “And what is this I hear about you cavorting with the son of Clan DunBroch’s chieftain at the creek? The one they call Fergus.”
Elinor felt the blood draining from her face even as her cheeks became burning hot. Had Lachlan told him about their encounter after all? But if he had, would her father not have confronted her the day before?
“I was…we were not…cavorting,” she said. She turned to Merida, who stood a few feet away. The shock Elinor felt was reflected in the girl’s eyes.
“Who have you spoken to?” Elinor asked her father.
“’Tis no matter how I got the information. I want to know if it is true!”
Elinor frowned. Her father had mentioned the creek where she and Merida had been that day but had said nothing of the small clearing where she and Fergus had practiced making fire the day before. How would Lachlan have known?
“Well?” her father prompted.
“I…he…he happened upon the creek where Merida and I were taking in the nice weather. I did not know he would be there. He did not know we would be there, either. It was all happenstance.”
A muscle in the king’s jaw jumped as his gaze traveled from the top of her head to the tips of her boots.
“I was told that you spoke at length to the DunBroch. And that you stood close to him, too close to be deemed proper.”
Elinor’s face flamed with shame, even though she had nothing to feel guilty about. There was nothing inappropriate about her run-in with Fergus. Who could have reported such things about her to the king?
A terrifying thought suddenly occurred, striking true fear in her as it put her plans of escape in jeopardy.
“Are you having me followed, Father?” Elinor asked.
“Do not question me!” the king bellowed. “This is my kingdom. I do not have to explain my actions to you.”
Elinor flinched. She was mortified as she glanced to her right and noticed how many people were witnessing her father unleash his wrath on her.
She bowed and murmured, “I am sorry.”
“I am only trying to keep you safe, Elinor.”
“Fergus DunBroch will not hurt me,” she said. She wished she could take the words back the moment she said them.
The king stared down his nose at her, his displeasure a palpable thing that hovered in the air around them.
“Must I remind you that you are to be betrothed to Lachlan Fraser in a matter of days?” King Douglass asked. “This union will be the most important in a generation. I shall not have you gallivanting across these lands like a com-moner and putting yourself in a position to be compromised. You are the future queen, and you will behave as such from this moment forward. Do you understand me, Elinor?”
“Yes, Father.” It was difficult to get the words past the lump in her throat.
As she stood underneath the glare of her father’s blistering disapproval, Elinor could see her plans for escape fading like the sun’s rays on a cold winter day. She knew her father well enough to know what his next move would be. She was bound to be under even greater scrutiny after this incident.
And if he was having her followed?
Evasion would not be simply unlikely; it would be impossible.
The king turned to the groom at his side. “Is this the girl? The new servant?” he asked the man.
Elinor realized he was talking about Merida. Thank goodness she had reminded the girl to bind her hair again.
The groom nodded. “’Tis so, according to Orla.”
King Douglass looked to Merida. “You are no longer the princess’s maid.”
Elinor exhaled a swift breath. Her father’s withering glare warned off the words she was about to speak.
“You are to have no dealings with the princess,” King Douglass continued.
With that, he dismissed them both, walking past them without another word.