“Is she dead?” he asked.
“Ye’ll be disappointed to find that she isnae. She’s nae here. I’m going to find her and take her back home to Breaghacraig.”
“I can send Logan to do that. Ye shall stay fer yer own wedding.” Paddraig turned in a dismissive manner and began to walk away.
“I’ve told ye, I’ll nae marry Greer. That was yer plan, but nae mine. I intend to marry Helene.”
“Think on it, Dougall. I ken being laird is important to ye. Marrying Greer will seal yer place in the clan. Go. Find yer wench, bring her back here if ye must, but ye’ll marry Greer.” Paddraig’s unwavering stare seemed to be saying there was no relenting when it came to this topic.
“If yer so in love with the idea of Greer Matheson, marry her yerself then.” He quickly mounted his horse and as they spun away, Dougall saw his father’s face as he obviously contemplated Dougall’s suggestion. “Dinnae expect me back, fer the only reason I’d be returning would be to kill ye.” He laughed bitterly as he rode away. His Da and Greer deserved each other. There’s would be a match made in hell.
Riding through the night, Dougall hoped they’d make up for lost time and come upon Helene somewhere on the road back to Breaghacraig. He didn’t know whether or not he’d find her. Helene had never ventured far from home, so he had no idea whether she’d be able to find her way back. The thought of her alone and frightened in these woods tore at him. It was cold and a soft drizzle had begun to fall. He hoped she’d found some shelter. Would she be able to start a fire to keep herself warm? And what of highwaymen? She’d already been attacked once on their journey to Castle Treun. He only hoped she didn’t have the misfortune to run across any unsavory creatures, human or otherwise. He scrubbed his hands through his hair as he consciously forced his limbs to relax his rigid posture.
“Dougall, we’ll find her.” Logan assured him.
“I hope so, but I’m nae so sure.” He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take, but then he thought of Helene and realized his discomfort was nothing compared to what she must be feeling.
“We’ll head all the way to Breaghacraig and if she isnae there, I’ll come with ye and we’ll search until she’s found.” Dougall appreciated what Logan was trying to do. He recognized the concern in his eyes and the encouragement he tried to put into his voice.
“Thank ye, Logan. Yer a good friend.” He meant it. Logan was proving to him that he could be trusted, that he would be there for him no matter what may come of their search.
“Ye’d do the same fer me.”
“Aye. I would,” Dougall agreed.
“Our horses are tiring. Mayhap we should stop fer the night.” Logan glanced around the area.
“She’s out there somewhere, Logan. Cold and alone in the dark. She’ll be frightened.” He hoped she had a warm blanket to cover herself with.
“There’s naught ye can do, Dougall. If she’s been gone a sennight, she verra possibly could have reached Breaghacraig.” Logan was obviously doing his best to comfort him.
“’Tis me hope.”
They stopped in a small clearing and made camp for the night. Dougall didn’t believe he’d be sleeping much, but the horses certainly needed to rest, or they’d never make it back to Breaghacraig. He said a silent prayer that Helene would be safe and he cursed himself for leaving her alone with his father and allowing her to be put in this danger.
Logan brought out some food, but Dougall had no desire to eat. He leaned back against a large tree, closing his eyes, folding his arms across his chest and hoping that sleep would come quickly and dreamlessly. It did neither.
Dougall breatheda weary sigh as Breaghacraig came into view.
Logan who was riding at his side urged his horse into a gallop. Dougall gratefully followed. He’d know soon whether or not Helene had made it back home. He wanted more than anything to believe she had and that he’d see her smiling face as he rode into the courtyard.
Dougall and Logan slowed their horses to a trot before riding through the gates. He searched every face and his disappointment was evident when he didn’t see Helene anywhere. Hopping from his horse, he handed it and Helene’s mare to one of the boys. Logan did the same and both men strode into the castle.
Irene was first to greet them. “Dougall, we’re so happy to have ye back.” Irene tipped her head and scrunched her brow. “Ye dinnae appear to feel the same.”
“Where is Helene? Is she here?” Dougall’s heart dropped.
“Is she nae with ye?” Irene’s hands flew to her mouth, as she obviously realized something was very wrong.
Dougall hung his head in what was part exhaustion, part disappointment and part shame. “I must find her. She left Castle Treun more than a sennight ago.”
“Why would she leave without ye?” Irene fidgeted nervously with the cloth she carried in her hands as she awaited his answer. It was obvious to Dougall that Irene loved Helene and he was so very sorry to have to tell her what had happened. “’Tis a long tale, Irene and one which I’m nae proud to tell. Me father planned to have me wed Greer Matheson.”
Irene appeared shocked at this news. “Surely ye told him ye wished to marry Helene. Did he nae approve?”
“He didnae. He told me that if I didnae go off on patrol with the men, he’d lock Helene up.” Dougall shook his head. This was the part that tore him apart. “If I’d simply turned around and headed back home with Helene, none of this would have happened. I should have stood up to him, but I didnae. I went on patrol and when I came back, I found that Helene had been mistreated and escaped on her own.”
The shock on Irene’s face was easy to read. She was a kind woman and would never treat another human being poorly for any reason. Neither would anyone else here at Breaghacraig. It appeared that he came from a clan of despicable bastards.
