Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

His breath was ragged as he approached, guiding his horse behind him as he moved for her. Ewan's features were illuminated by the sporadic flashes of lightning, holding a mix of worry and relief as his eyes fell on her.

"I daenae ken if I've ever seen a bride so soaked to the bone," his voice was soft and gentle, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. Ewan tied his own, midnight-colored mare to a low-hanging branch before returning his sights to her.

With a shrug, he pulled at his belted plaid and let it slide from him. He stepped forward slowly and then draped the fabric over her shoulders. Leona's hands trembled as she grasped the warmth of the plaid, pulling it closer to her body. As it settled around her, she became very aware of how much she was shivering.

Ewan's eyes held a quiet, compassionate understanding. "We need to warm up, lass. Ye will shake from her skin if ye keep this up."

Leona nodded, trying to settle her chattering teeth and steady her breath. Her gaze moved from his face to the landscape where they had both emerged from. She was unsure how long or far she had ridden, but the thought of someone coming for her had not crossed her mind.

"Ewan, how did ye find me?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "To be honest, lass. I saw ye take to yer horse and followed. Thought it best to nae let ye ride off into the storm alone, ye ken?"

She nodded and watched as lightning stretched across the sky.

"What happened, lass?"

The question hung between them, heavy and damp. Leona hesitated, her gaze moving across the landscape as a frown settled on her face. The storm continued to rage on, showing no sign of stopping. She took a deep breath, her mind as cold as her body. "I overheard something, and I…"

"Is it about the maid?"

She blinked, looking up at him. "Ye ken?"

Ewan frowned. "Yer friend told me when I found her, lass."

"It's nae the maid," she said slowly.

"Whatever the reason, lass, it's nae right for ye to be here. And Caelan is likely losing his mind about ye leaving," he offered her a small smile as he reached out. Slowly and carefully, he took the reins from her hand. "We should return, ye ken? I saw how yer mare acted; maybe we best just take me horse."

Leona nodded. "I acted without thinkin' much of it."

"Aye, but that is to be expected of ye, lass. I have ken ye a long time, and if ye dinnae do somethin' like this, I might be more worried," his laugh was soft, a stark contrast to the thundering around them.

Leona watched, huddled in his plaid, as he tied her horse to his. He was cautious with everything he did. Each movement seemed to have a purpose and a fine point. Ewan looked over at her and frowned. "We best wait a wee bit to see if the rain slows," he said.

The small patch of trees had offered some respite from the rain, which had turned the world around them a shade of constant gray. Ewan, who was also drenched, stood beside her.

"We both could fit," she told him, lifting the plaid like a cover over her head.

Ewan chuckled. "Nay, lass. Ye keep it on ye, I willnae have ye catching a chill on yer weddin' day. And I think the rain is about to show a hint of mercy."

As he predicted, the rain settled down into a hazy mist.

He slowly guided the horses, with hers trailing behind them, into the clearing. The storm had rolled over, heading back towards Gleann Cloiche, but the rest of the sky remained a shade of dark gray.

"Leona," his voice hinted at concern. "I am goin' to take us around the storm, so we daenae get caught in it again on the way back."

She nodded in agreement. "Thank ye, Ewan. Ye are a true friend."

Ewan lifted her into the saddle of his horse before coming up behind her. He reached around her middle, taking the reins in his hands and urging his horse to move. "Ye can thank me properly when we get there, lass."

"What do ye mean ye cannae find her?" Caelan's voice boomed as loud as the thunder in the distance. Wind whipped at him, tugging at his hair and his clothes as he walked alongside Jamie toward her tent.

Bursting inside, his eyes scanned the inside. Maisie and Isobel stood there, both now wearing their arasaids over their heads. It was a sure sign that they intended to brave the storm as well in search of her. Maisie stepped forward, the look of pure panic settled on her face. "When we returned with the flowers, she was already gone," she said. "I thought maybe she had gone to find somethin' to eat, ye ken? But none of the servants had seen her. No one knows where she could've gone."

Caelan clenched his fist. "Did she say anythin' before ye left?"

Isobel shook her head. "Nay, she seemed in the best spirits."

So was I until…

Turning to look back at Jamie, he frowned. "Find the maid."

Maisie cursed out loud and rushed to Jamie's side. "Let me go with him to find the wee snake, Caelan," based on her tone, it wasn't a suggestion. He knew she had every intention of going regardless of what he said, so he simply nodded. God help that maid if Maisie gets to her first.

"Ye had best stay here, Caelan," Jamie said. From the look on his face, he knew that Caelan would not like it, but there was no denying that he was right. Someone had to stay behind, and someone had to be prepared. More than anything, he wanted to tear through the camps until he found her, but Caelan steadied himself with a grounding breath.

He nodded. "Find Flora and bring her here. She knows something."

When Jamie and Maisie left, Isobel followed soon after. She had rushed to find Graham and Leona's parents, promising to return with them shortly.

Caelan paced, every sound he heard sent him on the edge, and his chest heaved as he struggled to maintain some sense of composure. He did not know where Leona had gone, but there was something inside him, something unseen and unheard, that promised that she was in danger.

He should have warned her that something had been amiss before; he should have had a guard with her constantly. With a sneer, he turned and then was frozen in place. Hanging from the center post of the tent was the dress. Caelan stepped forward, his hand shaking as he reached for it. The fabric was soft and light. The shades of gray seemed to shimmer and ripple like moonlight on the water.

Was it possible that she had run away? No longer wishing to wed?

No, there's no time for such doubts. He knew she wanted this, too.

It did not take them long to return with the maid as if she had intended to be caught. Flora, being dragged by the arm by Jamie, looked up at Caelan with defiant eyes shimmering. Never in his life did Caelan think to strike a lass, but the urge was there.

Maisie followed after them, fuming. "Tell him what ye told me, ye vile–"

A sound rose from Flora's throat as she looked over her shoulder at his sister. "I am nae in yer service anymore, lass. Ye cannae command me to do anythin' now," her sights slowly shifted towards Caelan, and a sly and almost seductive look formed across her lips. "But ye, Caelan. If ye beg it of me. If ye plead it–"

The sound of skin on skin pierced through the tent.

Everyone stood there frozen, their eyes all falling onto the outstretched hand. In the chaos of the moment, he did not even see Isobel enter the tent. She stood there, her hand open and a look of fury across her face. But no one seemed as shocked as Flora, whose cheek now glowed red.

Isobel glared down at her. "Tell us, now."

Flora jerked her arm free from Jamie's grasp. "Let go of me."

Standing there, with the others circling around her, Flora glanced around at the faces with a look of contempt on her face. Finally, she let her gaze settle on Caelan. "I told her the truth, and then she heard it from yer own mouth," she said slowly, deliberately, as her eyes bore into his.

Caelan felt his chest tighten, catching her meaning. "Ye set it all up."

He realized then what she had done completely. When Flora knew she could not have him, there appeared to be nothing she wouldn't do. It was clear to him now, from the look in her eyes and the venom on her tongue, that everything she had done was not an attempt to hurt Leona.

Everything Flora had done was to crush him.

"Ye will leave," his words were a low growl, a threat and a promise combined. Caelan's eyes dug into hers, his voice not once wavering from the commanding and fierce tone. "Never will ye return within me sight. I will never hear yer name, yer voice, or yer schemes."

"Or what?"

Caelan stared at her, his gaze not breaking. "Ye ken what, lass."

As she was about to open her mouth to say more, Bram Ainslie tore into the tent. His face was red, his breaths heaving as his wild eyes scanned the lot of them. Graham followed after, worry etched between his brows.

Scanning over the faces, Graham turned to look at Caelan. "Has Ewan come yet? I tried findin' him, but he's nowhere to be seen either."

Caelan shot a look to Flora once more, raising his brows.

She swallowed hard, her eyes lowering. "He went after her."

Jamie roughly grabbed her arm again, turning for the doorway while dragging her behind him. As she struggled against him, she looked over her shoulder to give Caelan one final look. "I dinnae ken she would run."

Loud and close, thunder crackled. Rain began to pelt against the tent.

Caelan turned and looked at Bram. "We need to find them both."