16
Malcolm groaned as he felt the pain in the back of his head, the smell of ale assaulting his senses.
What had happened? The last thing he remembered was walking with Edna’s dinner to her room, and then his sight went black, and he didn’t remember anything else until now, and all that his mind was thinking was the pain he was feeling.
Forcing his eyes open, he found Irvine staring at him, his jaw clenched. “Well,” Irvine stated, “I never thought that she would do this.”
Pain shot through his eyes, and Malcolm rubbed them with his hand, trying to clear his mind of the pain. “Wot happened?”
“She’s gone.”
The two words nearly undid Malcolm, and he sat up quickly, the room spinning the moment he did. The knot in his gut grew tight at the thought of Edna having disappeared from his sight.
Had they been attacked? Had Edna been taken while he was out?
Why was Irvine seated so calmly, as if he already knew what had happened? Malcolm knew then that they hadn’t been attacked, but yet he had been the one to be attacked.
“She attacked ye,” Irvine continued, his voice oddly emotional and confirming what Malcolm had just realized. “I’ve had the guards search the grounds and the village, but she’s gone.”
“I should have listened tae her earlier,” Malcolm stated. He had seen the desperation in her expression, knowing that Edna wanted to go back to her clan, and he should have risked everything to take her.
Then he wouldn’t be sitting on her bed right now, afraid for her life.
“Nay,” Irvine said a moment later, surprising Malcolm. “’Tis mah fault.”
Malcolm looked at his closest friend and laird. “We both decided tae keep her here. We were doing wot was right.”
“That isnae why she left,” Irvine sighed. “Perhaps it was a part of it, but I didnae know that ye hadnae told her aboot James.”
Malcolm froze, worry flooding his veins. “Ye told her.”
Irvine hung his head. “Aye. I thought that she knew.”
He should have told her. Malcolm knew that he should have told Edna the moment he realized who she was, but he had been afraid to do so.
He didn’t want her to hate him.
Now she was gone, and he was helpless to even have a chance to tell her the true reasoning.
“I’m vera sorry, Malcolm,” Irvine said, blowing out a harsh breath. “I never meant tae tell her. I swear it.”
“’Tis mah fault for not doing so,” Malcolm replied, his head no longer the only part of him that was hurting. He had been ashamed of keeping the secret from her, but it never felt like the right time to tell her. James had been one of his closest friends, but he had never thought about who James was to Edna either.
She detested him. “I should have told her a long time ago,” he finished, rubbing his forehead to ease the ache between his eyes. “I have tae go after her.”
“Where do ye think she’s going?”
That was easy to know. “She’s going home, tae give herself tae Neacal.”
Irvine’s eyes widened. “She cannae! Neacal will attack regardless of wot Edna does. He wants power. She will just be spoils of the battle.”
“Aye, I know,” Malcolm growled, forcing himself to his feet. The room swayed slightly, but he braced his hand on the wall until he didn’t feel like he was going to fall over. “I cannae let her do so.”
Irvine stood as well, handing Malcolm a mug of ale. “Aye, but ye are in no condition tae ride right now.”
“Ye dinnae understand,” Malcolm protested, holding the mug tightly in his grasp. “We cannae let her get too far ahead.” He wasn’t going to let her go into the hands of that mad laird and become his wife. Neacal didn’t deserve someone like Edna, but unless he could get there in time, he wouldn’t be able to stop her. “I have tae go.”
Irvine blew out an angered breath. “Fine, but when ye fall off yer horse and break yer neck, dinnae blame me.”
