Chapter 23

23

M agnus stood like a sentry at the foot of Hayden's bed, his brother's breaths shallow but steady, a fragile thread tethering him to this world. The room was dim, the air thick with the scent of herbs and the musty odor of old stone that no amount of scrubbing could erase. A single candle flickered, casting long shadows across the chamber walls that had seen too many vigils, and the fire brought much-needed warmth to the room. The healer had done all she could for Hayden, leaving him to rest until her next check. But Magnus would not allow his brother to sleep alone.

"Brother," Scarlett's urgent voice cut through the muted stillness as she burst into the room, her fiery hair a wild cascade around her shoulders. She moved with a purpose that spoke volumes of the urgency in her heart, her blue eyes wide with alarm. "Erin has left."

Magnus straightened, a taut line of tension coiling down his spine. The very mention of Erin Gibson's name set something primal alight within him, a spark he'd been trying to douse until their wedding night, but now he embraced with a passion. His jaw clenched, his mind already racing with the consequences of her departure.

"Left?" he echoed, his voice betraying none of the devastation crushing inside him. "Why would she?—"

"Read this." Scarlett thrust a folded piece of parchment into his hand, her blunt manner brooking no argument. "I met with the stable boy just outside and he handed with this."

With fingers that shook slightly, Magnus unfolded the letter, his gaze scanning the neat, determined script that he had come to know as Erin's. Each word was a dagger, sharp and precise, revealing the struggle of a lass who wore her heart on her sleeve. She had written that she loved him, which would have made him smile if it wasn't being quoted as the reason why she needed to leave. She blamed herself for everything that happened to Hayden, that it was her act of making him open himself up to his siblings that put Hayden in danger.

"It wasnae that, was it brother. Ye would have protected her if ye had hated me. Ye would have still done so if ye hated her." Magnus would not have his brother's gallant actions blamed on a little tenderness on his part, nor one successful ride in the country. The Hayden he knew before Erin came into his life was still the same as the one who risked his life for her.

"This would break ye to hear, brother." Magnus sighed. "I dinnae show her what she means to us. To me."

"Ye shouldnae blame yerself, brother," Scarlett said. "She's as free-spirited as the Highland wind."

"Free-spirited," he repeated, the word tasting of irony on his tongue. She was spirited, but she didn't yearn to be free. She yearned for respect, purpose, friendship, and family. He even believed now she yearned for his love.

"Go after her," Scarlett urged, handing him his plaid, the colors of their clan woven into the tartan fabric.

Magnus's mind raced, torn between duty and a desire he scarcely understood. To leave Hayden now would be to abandon the brother he had sworn to protect, yet the thought of Erin lost and alone ignited a fierce protectiveness he could not deny. "I cannae leave."

"Ye cannae let her go, Magnus!" she cried, emerging from the shadowed archway, her fiery hair a stark flame against the grey walls. "It's me fault. I should have seen it—the restlessness in her eyes. Go after her, before it's too late!"

"Scarlett," he started, his voice a low growl of confliction, but he faltered, unable to voice the turmoil within.

"Ye ken what ye must do," she insisted. "I am as much to blame as ye. I could have spoken to her, but me mind was on Hayden, I was selfish, brother. The blame lies with me."

"Nay, sister. There is no blame to be had." Magnus drew a deep breath and glanced at his brother's pale face. "We need many eyes searching for her. I need…" he needed his man-at-arms. He needed his brother. He needed someone he could trust to find her for him.

"See to Hayden," he commanded, He turned on his heel, the letter clutched like a talisman as he strode toward the door. "I willnae be long."

He entered the hall, where many of his clansmen worked on removing the Tartan Day decorations.

"Ye are all good men, loyal and true. As yer laird, I respect that in each of ye." Magnus gained their attention. "But I need to call on ye services once more this day. Lady McCormack has fled. I need men to search for her."

Magnus held his breath. Who of his men would choose to ride the moorland while he sat idly by his brother's bed.

"Ays, me laird." Callum stepped forward. "Do we know which direction she took?"

"All we know is that she is on horseback, and I'll wager she is trying to head to O'Kane. The stable boy reminded her that the bridge is out, so I daenae ken which route she would take."

"We'll start there and fan out," Iain assured him.

"Ye'll form a party and search?"

"Aye me laird. Ye stay where yer needed."

He was reaching out and trusting others, and they wanted to help him. His heart swelled as he thought of the pride Erin would feel if she knew.

"Please bring her safely back to me."

Understanding flashed in Callum's eyes. "We'll bring her back, Laird," he assured, but there was an unspoken question hovering in the air—did Magnus truly wish for Erin's return, or was it freedom she sought?

"Go, and daenae spare the whip," Magnus commanded, with the authority of a laird worthy of their respect.

As his men hurried away, Magnus turned back to the chamber where his brother lay. Hayden's breaths were shallow, yet steady—a testament to the resilience of the Black bloodline. A healer had assured Magnus that the charming rogue would wake by dawn's light, his flirtatious grin ready to charm the thistle off a Highland breeze, but first he had to survive the night.

"Ye ken I cannae leave ye, Hayden," Magnus murmured, watching his brother's chest rise and fall. "Nae when death nearly grasped ye. Ye've always been the one to chase after skirts and hearts, while I stood back, bound by honor and land. It's time I find ye a wife and a purpose beyond me heir."

He brushed a lock of dark hair from Hayden's forehead, the silence of the room punctuated only by the crackling hearth and his brother's breathing. In the quiet, Magnus allowed himself a moment to imagine Erin's fiery spirit challenging his every word, her independence a beacon that both frustrated and enticed him.

"Will ye forgive me, brother?" he whispered, though no answer came. "For placing duty before me own heart?"

The shadows lengthened across the room, and Magnus felt the weight of his decision pressing down upon him. With a final glance at Hayden's peaceful face, he stepped from the room, his resolve hardening.

"Ye must recover, Hayden," he said into the darkness, his voice barely above a growl. "For I have a lass to reclaim, and I'll be needin' ye at me side when I do."

And with those words left hanging in the stale air of the chamber, Magnus strode away, each step carrying him further from his brother's bedside and closer to the precipice of the unknown.

For many hours, Magnus waited for news on his wife, but when it came, the knock had him jumping from his daze.

He turned sharply as the heavy oaken doors creaked open, revealing his clansmen, their expressions grim and foreboding in the firelight.

"Report," Magnus demanded, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside him.

"Laird," Callum began, "we've scoured the hills, followed the river to where it forks at the Devil's Teeth, rode hard along the river and checked all crossin's...but there's nae a sign of Lady Erin."

The words struck Magnus like a physical blow, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sword hilt tighter. "What do ye mean 'nae sign'? She cannae just vanish into the mist!"

"Ye ken as well as I, the lass is cunnin'," another clansman chimed in, his tone respectful but tinged with unease. "She has the wit to cover her tracks. Even took care nae to be seen by the crofters."

"Erin..." The name left his lips as a whisper, a prayer to the wind that might carry her back to him. His mind raced with images of her - those defiant blue eyes that sparkled even when she was cross, the way her wavy brown hair would escape its braids and frame her face like the wild beauty of the Scottish moorlands.

He could no longer deny the depth of his feelings, the truth that gnawed at his heart like a starved hound. Erin Gibson, his wife in name, had become the very essence of his soul. Her absence tore at him more fiercely than the wounds of any battle.

"Damn it all," Magnus cursed under his breath, his fists clenching so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. He could feel the beastly rage that earned him his fearsome reputation boiling in his veins, but it was the sharp pang of loss that fueled his fury. "Refresh a moment in the hall. I shall join ye momentarily."

"Ye love her." Scarlett muttered. It wasn't a question; it was a realization that dawned on him with the force of a Highland gale. Every argument, every stolen glance, every moment of reluctant admiration - it all led to this undeniable truth.

"More than me own life," he confessed to the empty room, his voice strained with an emotion he'd never allowed himself to show.

"Then find her. I'll nae leave Hayden until yer return." Scarlett rested her hand over his.

Magnus nodded and rose up from his stool, leaning over Hayden's bedside, where his brother lay still as death itself, though the rise and fall of his chest whispered the promise of recovery. Magnus leaned down, pressing his lips to Hayden's clammy forehead, a silent prayer escaping into the warmth of his skin.

"Forgive me, wee brother," he murmured, his voice rough with barely contained torment. "I must leave ye now."

"Ye daenae need to ask forgiveness for chasin' after yer heart, Magnus," Scarlett's voice cut through the tension, a touch of her usual bluntness softened by understanding. She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, her fiery hair a vivid contrast to the muted hues of the room. "Go on, before the lass gets too far."

Her words were a lifeline, giving him permission to do what every fiber of his being screamed for. Nodding, he turned on his heel and strode towards the door, determination etched into every line of his powerful frame.

"I expect ye sittin' up waiting to scold me fer leaving ye," Magnus ordered his brother before leaving the room.

He headed to the hall where over a dozen clansmen waited for orders. "Erin is a smart woman. We know she hasnae taken the road to O'Kane, that has been searched well. So we widen the search, include the village and the farms." His wife was smart, and if she could not reach her destination before night, then she would be lying low somewhere to wait for the morn. He would search with his men, confident she would be found.

The great hall was a blur as he passed through, his mind singularly focused on the stables that housed the fleetest of horses. Erin would have taken her new mare, a spirited creature that could outrun the wind itself. But no beast, however swift, would keep her from him if he had any say in it.

He burst through the heavy doors leading to the outer bailey, the chill air slapping his face, a stark reminder of the harsh reality he faced. His breath formed clouds of mist as he ran, the night sky an endless tapestry above him, stars twinkling like the flicker of hope within his chest. Just as he neared the stables, a figure stepped out from the shadows, blocking his path. Reggie Hogg, councilman and thorn in Magnus's side, planted himself firmly before the laird, his austere face set in grim lines.

"Where do ye think ye're goin', lad?" Reggie demanded, his tone condescending as ever.

"Out of me way, Reggie," Magnus growled, his fury rising like a storm at sea. The older man had always been critical of him, but now was not the time for their usual power struggles. Erin was out there somewhere, alone and unprotected, and every second wasted was a second too long.

"Ye'll nae stop me," Magnus continued, his voice low and threatening. It was a warning Reggie would do well to heed.

"Ye think I stand here to bar yer way?" Reggie retorted, though the glint in his eye spoke of something more, something unspoken that lurked beneath the surface.

"Move," Magnus insisted, prepared to shove past the older man if necessary. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, ready for action, for anything that would bring Erin back to him.

"Listen to me, boy..." Reggie began, but Magnus was already beyond patience, beyond reason. He couldn't afford to delay, not when every moment meant Erin slipped further from his grasp.

"I ken where the lassie is hidin'," Reggie called to him.

His heart pounded like a drumbeat of war as he tensed, preparing to unleash the full force of his wrath upon the councilman who dared stand between him and his quest to reclaim the woman he loved.

"Erin?" he breathed, her name a talisman against the despair that threatened to consume him. He would find her, by the sword or by the soul, for she was the light that banished all darkness from his world.

"Aye, tis the reason I am here, me laird. I'll take ye to her."

Magnus paused, frowning at the councilman, but he saw the man in a new light. He needed more men like Reggie around him, those who would tell the truth as it was, rather than say the words Magnus wanted to hear. he had been blinded by Caelan's agreeable nature, and had grown to resent challenge.

"Thank ye, Reggie," Magnus praised, and he couldn't deny the pleasure he felt in seeing Reggie smile.