Chapter 16

16

Kiernan woke early that morning, his eyes flipping open as the light began to pour in through the window. He woke with a certainty in his heart about what he needed to do, about how he was going to deal with the issue of Mary once and for all.

Rising to his feet, he dressed himself quickly, humming a tune to himself to distract his racing thoughts. He would be lucky if Mary had not already abandoned him, after all that had transpired between them. After all, he had hardly acted as a loving husband should, brushing her off when she had reached out to him with all the care and affection she carried within her.

He could still remember the look on her face when they had argued in his study, and he was far too proud a man to go back to her at once and admit his mistake. A part of himself he supposed he would have to work on, now that he was a husband. Because he longed for something real with Mary, something true, no matter how their union might have begun. Even if it had sprung from a place that was anything but honest, the connection they shared was undeniable, and keeping his distance from her this past week had been nigh-on impossible.

She’d be in her chambers now, as she had been most of the time since their clash. She had barely come down for dinner, though he had seen her traversing his mother’s garden a few times. He had caught sight of her through the window of his study, trailing her hands along the drooping branches, stepping through the fiery leaves, looking almost as though she was a nymph passing through the forest. She seemed as delicate as the flowers that lined the path, but, at the same time, he knew she contained a strength that he had barely begun to understand.

He strode through the corridor that would lead him to her room, his mind racing as he tried to form the words that would most convince her of his certainty. He was not sure anything could undo the cruelty he had thrown her way with such harshness the other day, but he had to try. If they were to stay married and share their lives, he would have years to prove himself to her. It was just a matter of keeping her in the Keep and convincing her to give him a chance, no matter what he might have said and done.

His footsteps slowed as he reached the stairs that led up to her quarters, in the tower that overlooked the river below. Would seeing her in there be too much for him? When last the two of them had met there, the two of them had soon found themselves tangled in one another, words giving way to touch. He would have to find some way to control himself this time. He did not want to let his desire rise too quickly within him. The last thing he wanted was for Mary to believe that he only saw her as some vessel for his pleasure, when he desired her for so much more than that.

But, before he could pick up his feet again, he heard a voice calling his name. Glancing around, he saw Richard striding towards him, a furrow in his brow. Kiernan paused, sensing at once that there was something amiss.

“Aye, what is it?” he demanded, and Richard reached him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ye’ve got a visitor.”

He frowned. A visitor? He had no plans to entertain anyone, at least that he knew of.

“Tell them to leave. I’ve got mare important things to?—”

“It’s Amelia Aitken.”

He froze on the spot. Mary’s sister? What on earth was she doing here? He knew at once that this had to be important. He could not imagine that an Aitken would breach the walls of this Keep were it not a matter that required immediate attention.

“Tell her I’ll be with her in a moment,” he replied quickly, running a hand through his hair. He glanced towards the stairs, wondering if he should call Mary down at first to let her know her sister was there, but he did not want to keep his guest waiting. Following Richard, he made his way down to the great hall, where, sure enough, Amelia was there waiting for him.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyes fixed on him with the anger only a sister could muster. He nodded to her in greeting.

“My lady.”

“Where is my sister?” she demanded, her voice echoing around the lofty room surrounding them.

“A pleasure to see you again too,” he replied, an edge of sarcasm to his voice. “Would ye care to explain why you have graced the Keep with your presence, my lady?”

“Because I received a letter from my sister that had me concerned,” she snapped back. “And I want to see her. I want to make certain she is alright. Now, where is she?”

She planted her hands on her hips, glowering up at Kiernan with a formidable fury in her eyes. As she spoke, the doors opened once more, and Arran stepped inside, carrying his young son in his arms. He looked less than pleased to have to be in such a place, but he moved to his wife’s side, putting an arm around her shoulder, showing his support of her even in this difficult time. He must truly have cared for her, if he was willing to enter the house of his enemy in such a way, let alone bring his son there.

“I’ll fetch her,” Kiernan replied, glancing between the two of them suspiciously. He didn’t much like the thought of them being here, in his home, his Keep. But, he supposed, he would have done the same thing if he’d had his suspicions that someone in his family had come to harm, and he could not blame them for making certain Mary was in safe hands.

“Go to the lady’s chambers,” he ordered one of the guards. “Awaken her and tell her that her family are here to see her. Now, go!”

The guard hurried off, and Kiernan watched after him until he vanished out of sight. He could feel a creeping uncertainty at the back of his neck, as though his instincts were warning him that there was something amiss.

A heavy silence filled the hall as they all waited for the guard to return. Kiernan thought of trying to make conversation with Arran, but he could tell from the man’s stoic silence that he hardly considered this a social visit. He doubted that it had been his idea to come to this place at all, more than he was reluctant to allow his wife to go alone.

Soon, the guard re-emerged into the hall, slightly out of breath, his face flushed from the exertion. Kiernan peered behind him, expecting to see Mary following close, but, to his surprise, she was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is?—”

“She’s no’ in her rooms, my Laird,” the guard panted, and Kieran’s heart slammed into his ribs. Not in her room? Then where could she be?

“Where is she, Kiernan?” Arran snarled at him, his eyes narrowing to a furious slit as he glared at the other man. Kiernan raised his hand, trying to soothe the situation before it spun out of control.

“I’m sure she’ll just be down in the garden by now,” he replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Dinnae fret. I’ll find her.”

He made his way to the door, moving as quickly as he could without making it look to them as though he was in any rush. Why would Mary have left her chambers so early? She had scarcely emerged from them at all over the previous few days, perhaps only to pass on this letter to a messenger that had drawn Amelia to come here and check on her sister. He’d had no idea that Mary had been writing to her sister, and he wished he could see what was contained in those notes, what exactly she had said about him that had driven her sister to come rushing so quickly to her aid.

Once he reached the gardens, an eerie silence settled around him. He called out her name, praying that he would hear her reply to him.

“Mary?”

Nothing. He made his way down the path, picking his way across the fallen leaves and towards the pond he had often seen her retreat to. Had she known, when she had come here, that he was watching her? He wished he had joined her. Perhaps, if he’d been able to put his pride aside for a moment, he would not be searching for her that morning. She would have been in his bed, where she belonged, at his side.

But, as he scouted the garden, he could see hide nor hair of the girl. It was then that dread began to snake up his spine. Where was she? It was not as though she had made much of a point of exploring the Keep in the time she had been here. No, she had kept to herself, for the most part. He knew she would hardly have gone wandering. Which meant…

Which meant that there had to be some other reason for her sudden vanishing. And he intended to find out what that was.

But first, he had to admit to her family that she was missing—a job that nobody would have envied. He barked orders to the guards waiting at the door as he entered the Keep once more, sending them off to continue the search.

“I want this entire place searched from top to bottom!” he bellowed at them. “Not a room unsearched, no’ a stone unturned! If anyone sees Mary, report to me at once, ye ken?”

As he reached the main hall, it seemed as though her sister had overheard his commands. She rushed towards him, her eyes wide.

“What did you tell them? Where is Mary?”

“I dinnae ken,” he admitted, finally. She clasped a hand to her mouth in horror, and staggered back from him, where Arran caught her around the waist, pulling her into him protectively.

“What have ye done to her?” Arran roared at him, as Amelia lifted her son from his arms and clutched him to her chest, like he might be next to vanish if she took her gaze from him for a moment.

“I’ve done nothing to her!” Kiernan snapped back, furious. “She’s my wife, for the love of?—”

“Aye, and I know what men like you do to their wives,” he snarled, striding towards him, stabbing his finger in the air as he approached. “Especially to wee things like Mary, who’ve no?—”

“I didnae lay a finger on Mary,” Kiernan cut him off, and his voice cracked as he spoke, the sudden rush of emotion getting the better of him. His jaw set tight, he met Arran’s gaze steadily, daring him to argue, daring him to disagree.

“Then where is she?” Amelia interjected, her voice trembling with fear. “What—where is my sister, Kiernan?”

“As soon as I ken, you will,” he promised her. “I have my guards searching the Keep. After that, I’ll send them further afield, in case she’s?—”

“In case she’s what?” Arran demanded. “Fled from you? You think she’d have reason to do that, aye?”

“I didnae say that,” Kiernan growled back at him, furious. “I’ve done nothing to hurt her. Nothing to make her flee from me…”

“That’s not what it sounded like in her letter,” Amelia countered.

“And what exactly did she say in her letter?” he asked her, flicking his gaze to hers. Arran stepped in front of his wife protectively, lifting a hand to bar him from getting any closer.

“Dinnae speak to my wife like that,” he warned Kiernan. Kiernan glowered at him, the anger and guilt and fear at Mary’s vanishing starting to get the better of him.

“And what will ye do if I choose to, eh?” he demanded, tipping his head to the side. “This is my Keep, Aitken. And what you do here will not go unpunished?—”

“Please, stop!” Amelia exclaimed. “We can’t let whatever history the two of you have get in the way of finding Mary. I just need to know that she’s safe, please.”

Much as it was clear Arran wanted to lunge for Kiernan and make his opinion of him even clearer than it already was, he took a step back, retreating beside his wife. Kiernan felt a pang in his chest, seeing the two of them together in such a way, seeing them care for one another, the support they offered each other at this time of trial. The same thing he could have shared with Mary, he was sure, if he had not been so foolish as to fight with her the way he had.

Before he could say another word, though, Callum, one of his guards, rushed to his side.

“We’ve got news of Mary!” he told him, nearly breathless, and relief washed through Kiernan. Of course, she could not have gotten far. She would not have run off into the night like that, she was not so foolish.

“Aye? Speak, lad, where is she?” he demanded, and Callum gestured behind him. One of the cooks, Thea, was following him into the Keep, dusting the flour from her hands. She curtsied to Kiernan in greeting, but Kiernan hardly had time for such pleasantries.

“Did ye see something, Thea?” he asked, clasping the older woman by the shoulders and peering into her eyes. She nodded.

“Aye, it was late last night,” she replied. “I was in the kitchen, preparing some bread to rise before I went to rest. And I heard the front door of the Keep creaking, which I thought was strange, given it was so late. I left the kitchen to see if someone was arriving at the Keep, you ken, to see if they needed something to eat before they retired to their chambers for the night. And I saw…”

She hesitated a moment before she spoke, as though uncertain that she wanted to keep talking. Kiernan squeezed his grip of her a little tighter, wishing he could just shake everything she knew out of her.

“Aye?” he pressed. “Ye saw what?”

“I saw Mary and Archibald together, leaving the grounds of the Keep.”

He dropped his hands by his sides again. Shock hit him like a punch in the chest, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs. Archibald? Archie? And Mary? It made no sense. He had seen the two of them talking a few times, of course, but he had assumed that his old advisor was just trying to make her more comfortable. He had always been a man of great loyalty, and he could not imagine that he would have done anything with the wife of the man he served…

Or anything to her.

“Has anyone seen Archibald this morning?” Kiernan demanded. “Is he anywhere to be found?”

“I’ve sent a man to check his chambers,” Callum replied. “If he’s no’ there, then, well…”

He did not need to finish his thought. Kiernan knew what the implications were if he could not find Archie in this place. Could he really have left with Mary like that? And if so, why? Would Mary have left him for a man like that? And if she hadn’t… then what exactly had Archie promised her to get her to abandon this place? His mind reeled with questions, and, as Amelia stepped forward, he knew he was not the only one.

“Who’s Archibald?” she asked him. “Where is my sister, Kiernan?”

“He’s one of my advisors,” he muttered, his chin dropping to his chest as he tried to make some sense of this madness.

“Yer advisors? And he was with yer wife?” Arran asked, almost sounding amused. Kiernan flashed around, fury coursing through him. He would not take such an attitude from an Aitken, not at a time of such need…

“Stop, please, both of you,” Amelia pleaded with them. “We have to find Mary. We can’t focus on that if the two of you are at each other’s throats.”

Arran and Kiernan stared at each other for a long moment, but then, Kiernan nodded slightly.

“She’s right,” he admitted. “I want Mary back here, and safe, where she belongs, and I cannae do that if I’m fighting a war on two fronts.”

Arran’s jaw tightened for a moment, but then, he looked over to his wife. It seemed to be the expression on her face which made the decision for him. Kiernan could see the way his eyes softened when he looked upon her and their son, the way he so clearly wanted to do anything he could to end her fear and worry. Though there was little that could bridge the gap between Kiernan and Arran, Arran would at least put aside their differences for as long as it took to soothe his wife’s troubled mind. He jerked his head in agreement and extended his hand to Kiernan’s.

“Aye,” he replied. “A truce.”

Kiernan took his hand, trying to ignore the words that hung between them— for now.

“Thea, fetch some food fer our guests,” Kiernan told the cook, who dipped her head in agreement and then hurried off to take care of her duties. “And then come to the study, and you can tell us again exactly what you saw.”

He glanced around at some of the lady’s maids, who were hovering in the doorway, clearly unsure of how best to manage their duties now that the person they had served had vanished into thin air.

“And you, fetch some fresh linens for the guest quarters,” he continued. “Make up a room fer Arran and Amelia, and their bairn.”

A silence hung in the air for a moment, as though nobody wanted to be the first one to move.

“What are you waiting for?” Kiernan roared. “Now!”

Soon, everyone was rushing off to take care of what needed to be done. Kiernan positioned several men on patrol around the Keep, to keep watch for Mary in case she made a sudden return, though, to be quite honest, he doubted she would. Wherever she had gone, and whatever she had left for, he did not know what she might have encountered out there beyond the walls of the Keep, and he cursed himself for not making certain that she stayed close to him.

Once Amelia and Arran had been fed, and young Robert laid down to rest, they made their way to the study, a heavy silence hanging over all of them. Amelia looked pale and drawn, while Arran seemed restrained and concerned about his wife.

“Can I ask you something?” Amelia murmured, finally breaking the silence between them. Kiernan nodded.

“Aye. Anything.”

“Why was she not in bed with you that night?”

Kiernan sucked in a sharp breath. A question, he had hoped, he would not be called to answer so bluntly. Arran eyed him, waiting for his response.

“Because…”

Kiernan’s words failed him. What could he say to them that they would trust? He knew what Arran thought of him, how the Aitken family viewed his clan, and he could hardly blame them, with the reputation that he had cultivated over the years. They were unlikely to believe that he had kept his distance from his new wife because he did not want to force her hand.

He needed a chance to make things right with her. More than anything in the world, he knew that was what he needed. He couldn’t let her slip through his fingers, couldn’t lose her, not when he knew he had hurt her so badly; not when he knew that he needed to fix the harm he had left in his wake.

“Because I made a mistake,” he admitted finally, looking between Amelia and Arran. “And I need yer help to make it right. I need to find her. To tell her how I really feel. And then…”

He trailed off. He did not know if she would even want anything to do with him after all that had transpired between them, but he knew that he had to find out.

Amelia and Arran exchanged a glance. Kiernan could tell that Arran was still doubtful, but the look on his wife’s face gave him all the encouragement he needed. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, and then returned his attention to Kiernan.

Rising to his feet, he extended his hand, and gave him a sharp nod.

“Anything I can do tae help, I will,” he replied. Kiernan took his hand, a flood of gratitude moving through him at the sound of those words coming out of his mouth. He had never thought that he would join forces with an Aitken, but when it came to getting his wife back from the man who had stolen her away, he knew he would have put anything on the line to make it happen.

“Thank you,” he replied, dipping his head slightly to express his gratitude. Arran drew his hand back, and glanced to the door.

“What are we waiting for? We must ride out as soon as we can,” he told him. “It’ll be nightfall soon, and we cannae risk leaving her there alone.”

“You’re right,” Kiernan agreed, and he strode to the door. “Come—I’ll get my horse tacked up, and my men ready, and we can go.”

Arran dropped a kiss on the top of his wife’s head and followed Kiernan to the door. Kiernan caught sight, out of the corner of his eye of the enormity of the estate that was laid out before them. He knew not where Mary had managed to get to, but he would sort through every inch of the place until he found her.

Until he knew she was safe once more.