When Bryce had sent Callum off with some of his clansmen in search of Maren, swearing them to the utmost secrecy, it was to find the McMullans still at his father’s hearth. It irked him that the three of them were laughing together like a flock of chittering starlings without a care in the world, when his wife was missing. With still no word from Maren, he had a sick feeling in his stomach that perhaps she had not taken herself off to Balloch and another man. That would be bad enough, for he was growing increasingly fond of her, or was it obsession rather than fondness? But worse, maybe she had been snatched by the Baron for some nefarious purpose.
They made idle talk for a while, Bryce longing for Clara and Fergal to leave and his father being overly charming and gushing. Obviously, he wanted to cover up the scandal of his son’s disappearing wife. It would make good fodder for the gossips, of which he was sure Clara was one. Eventually, Fergal’s well of small talk ran dry, and he finally picked up on the tense atmosphere between father and son.
‘Well, ‘tis a long ride back to Crag’s End, so we’d best make haste. Come, Clara.’
Clara rose, smoothed her skirts and glided to Bryce. ‘I do hope I will get to talk to your wife next time I visit. I am sure we will have lots in common.’
Bryce stifled a snort of derision and was just placing a peck on Clara’s proffered hand when the door to the hall burst open, and Maren rushed in.
Chapter Twenty-One
Maren rushed into the hall only to be confronted with Bryce kissing Clara’s hand. Jealousy bubbled up inside, scorching to ashes her intention to grovel for forgiveness, be contrite and take the storm of Bryce’s temper. The sight of sickly-sweet Clara McMullan at Bryce’s side was not to be borne.
She stopped dead and glowered at the company, Bryce, most of all.
He glared back, dropped Clara’s delicate, milky hand and rushed to her, exclaiming, ‘Ah, my lovely wife has returned from her morning ride.’
Before Maren could say anything, Bryce enfolded her in a crushing bear hug. ‘Say nothing,’ he hissed into her ear. ‘Follow my lead. You went for a ride, nothing more.’ He took her hand and declared, ‘Goodness, my love, did you fall in a thorn bush or some such mishap. I have scarcely seen you so windblown.’
Maren ground her teeth to stop from slapping him as Clara looked on, perfect and innocent-eyed. ‘Aye,’ said Maren. ‘It was a hard gallop I’ve had. That stallion does so love to be given his head.’
‘Then he needs a firmer hand on the reins or a good whipping,’ said Bryce with a brittle grin.
‘On the contrary, his spirit demands freedom, and I’ll not begrudge it,’ she countered. ‘In fact, it was such a glorious morning outside that I was reluctant to return to the confinement of Penhallion.’
‘Well, that’s as maybe, but once our visitors have taken their leave, I may go to the stables and set that beast right.’ Bryce narrowed his eyes at her. The threat was evident, and Maren’s temper rose. But she summoned a sweet smile, brushed wild strands of hair off her face, and rushed to Clara McMullan.
‘I am so sorry to have missed your visit. Perhaps next time you come, we can get to know each other better.’
‘Oh, I would like that very much,’ squeaked Clara.
Obviously, the idea was detestable to the lass, for she could barely force out her insincere words. Maren was not fooled by the girl’s child-like innocence for one minute. She was obviously still keen on Bryce, and it seemed to be reciprocated. As for that buffoonish father of Clara’s, he was looking at her with barely disguised distaste.
‘Come, Clara. We must be going,’ snapped Fergal, grabbing his daughter’s hand and dragging her out as if she might catch some foul disease from standing too close to Maren. Hateful man.
Maren caught Jasper’s eye, expecting disapproval, but amusement danced there instead. They all went outside to say farewell, Bryce white-faced with anger and Jasper saying nothing to help.
‘You look like you have had quite the adventure, lass,’ he said as they stood on the front steps of Penhallion and watched the McMullans and their clansmen ride away. ‘Are you going to entertain us with the reason for your absence? Bryce has been beside himself with worry, and so have I?’
‘I…forgive me, Laird. I cannot account for it without hurting another, so I must keep my counsel and….’
‘Stay out of it, Father,’ snarled Bryce, and then he turned to her. ‘Go to your chamber. Now!’
‘No, and I will not be spoken to like a child.’
‘You rode off without so much as a by your leave and return from a night spent God knows where, doing God knows what, and you have the nerve to defy me.’
Bryce’s towering anger was terrifying. She had never seen this side of him, and the wild look in his eye cowed her into obedience. Maren turned and ran for her chamber, determined to bolt the door and bar him entry. He would not beat her. She would not allow it. She would kill him first.
As she ran into Penhallion, she heard Jasper call out, ‘Wait, Bryce. Calm yourself.’
***
Bryce rushed after Maren, but a firm hand on his arm stopped him.
‘Do not confront your bride in anger, son,’ said Jasper. ‘If she is fearful, you will never get the truth.’
‘She has made a fool of me, and you too, abandoning you in Inverness and staying out all night like the worst kind of alley cat.’
