He was on his way back to the castle from the barracks when Tilly came running up to him, breathless, tears streaming down her face.
“Tilly?” he asked, grasping her by the shoulders, peering into her face to see her better through her disheveled hair.
“It’s Bailey,” she sobbed, “He’s gone. He didnae return last night. No one has seen him.”
Kieran’s heart all but stopped beating in his chest as he studied his sister’s face.
“You’re sure? How can that be?” Kieran asked, feeling dazed and sick to his stomach. He had posted Bailey with one of the teams of archers overlooking the forest. Bailey was a brilliant archer; he had been the one shooting the fire arrows into the night sky.
Kieran was barely holding his nausea at bay as he realized what his fatal mistake had been.
Bailey was the one person that Lord Stone’s men would have been able to find. All they had to do was trace the trajectory of the arrows back to his vantage point. Once they were in the vicinity, he would have been easy to spot; the burning pitch he had been using to light the arrows on fire would have given him away instantly in the surrounding darkness.
“I’m sure,” Tilly whispered as she hugged him, her face buried in his shoulder. “Promise me you’ll find him,” she said, her voice breaking.
Kieran ground his teeth together, clenching his jaw.
“I ken just where tae look for him,” he said.
Chapter Twenty
Vivien had been in a daze for the days following her night spent with Kieran. She walked through the corridors of the castle as though mesmerized, her attention focused solely on him and reliving their night together.
Her lips were still slightly bruised from his kisses; her womanhood ached and tingled with the pleasure that he had provided for hours on end. Her thigh muscles ached pleasantly from using them in positions and manners in which they were not accustomed.
And Vivien finally knew that she was not broken.
Just knowing that, at long last, had granted her a determination and will to change her life. She wanted nothing more than to tell Reginald to go to hell and leave her be, and perhaps one day she would.
Vivien could feel her pride and dignity returning – she was tired of being a doormat to Reginald’s foul moods and temper tantrums. She avoided him as much as possible once he returned from checking on his gun powder supplies, ensuring that she only saw him at shared meals. To her great relief, Reginald did not attempt to visit her quarters for those nights.
Vivien knew that if he did try to consummate their marriage again, that she would most likely be sick all over him, as well as a great chance of her giving up the fact that she was no longer a virgin. And no longer broken.
She knew that if he called her that again, in that situation, that the likelihood of her keeping her mouth shut and taking the beating was none. Vivien was at the point of being unable to hide her newfound knowledge from him – it was better that she avoid him as best she could. Vivien hoped that enough time would pass before Reginald tried to consummate their marriage again so that she could gather herself properly so as not to tell him what she really knew.
Vivien was on her way to break her fast when she walked past Reginald’s office. It was the morning after the night that the attack on Kieran’s granary should have occurred. She could hear raised voices from the other side of the door.
Shrugging to herself, Vivien bent down to look through the keyhole, hoping to hear what Reginald was shouting at the top of his lungs. She could see him and two of his army officers in the room; his face was blood red, and he was spitting with anger as he spoke.
“What do you mean we lost almost half of our men?” Reginald screeched, waving his arms in the air.
“I am sorry, my Lord,” one of the officers said, flinching as Reginald rounded on him, his face inches from the soldier’s.
“I am sorry?” Reginald spat in the man’s face, “That’s your excuse?”
Both of the officers paled visibly, even though Vivien knew they had been working for Reginald for years. They were afraid of him, it seemed, and that was ironic in her eyes.
“They must have known, my Lord,” the other officer said, “They were prepared – we suffered many casualties, and we believe many deserted us during the attack as well. We just have no way of knowing how many.”
“How could they have known?” Reginald’s eyebrows shot up into his sparse hairline. “Do we have a mole in this household?”
“We don’t know, Lord Stone.”
“Tell me exactly what happened,” Reginald demanded.
Vivien listened with bated breath as the two officers relayed the battle to him. It did not sound like it had been much of a fight on the English side; she shook her head to herself. But one thing was comforting in all of this – they had not managed to attack Kieran’s castle or granary.
From what Vivien could understand, there had been little to no injuries or deaths in the MacBride clan. She sighed in relief; Kieran and his people were safe.
