Malcolm clapped his hand on Irvine’s shoulder. “Of course not. I blame ye for why she ran.”
Irvine frowned. “I didnae mean tae.”
“I’m jesting,” Malcolm replied, dropping his hand. “’Tis mah fault and mine alone. I should have told her the moment I realized who she was. I had been, well, I had been selfish.”
Irvine shook his head. “Promise me that ye will tell her how ye feel.”
Malcolm swallowed hard. He had fought himself and his own feelings for so long since the moment he had met Edna, but now that she was gone, he realized that he didn’t want to not have her in his life.
“I want tae wed her.”
Irvine grinned, clapping him between the shoulder blades. “I’m glad that ye have come tae yer senses then.”
Malcolm growled at his friend before draining the mug of ale, hoping to wash away the pain in his head. “I will leave within the hour.”
Irvine’s grin faded. “Aye, I know, and I hope ye find her.”
Right before the peak of the hour, Malcolm slung himself onto the horse and took the pack that Irvine handed up, wincing at the pain in his head.
“I will send a missive tae Kaiden,” Irvine told him, stepping back, “and warn him that Edna is on her way.”
Malcolm shook his head. “I will likely beat the missive.”
“Still,” Irvine argued, “it makes me think I’m doing something at least.” The laird sighed. “Be careful, mah friend.”
Malcolm nodded and guided the horse out of the courtyard toward the dark road that he felt like he had just traveled a week before.
That was because he had, but at that time, Edna had been with him. Now he was hunting her once more.
This time, however, Malcolm had no plans to let her leave him again.
17
Edna stuck her hands out before her, feeling the bump of the tree so that she could maneuver herself around it. Though the moonlight gave her some means to light her path, it was still very dark.
Already she had fallen a few times, but Edna knew that if she stuck to the road itself, it would be a lot easier for Malcolm to find her.
She couldn’t allow him to find her. Edna was still attempting to digest the information that her cousin had accidentally shared with her, finding it hard to believe that Malcolm could be the person that ended James’s life.
Why had he done it? The question remained with her from the moment that Irvine had told her, attempting to think of the reasons that Malcolm would have done it. Though James was a warrior, he wasn’t one that would have done something to cause Malcolm to kill him, especially since they were supposedly allies, friends even.
Edna blew out a breath, stumbling on another root she couldn’t see. She wanted to go to her clan, to her land, no matter what was waiting for her there. She couldn’t love a Scot that had killed her beloved. James had been everything to her—her future, the father of her bairns, the only person she had wished to spend the rest of her days with.
And then had come Malcolm and upended everything that she thought she couldn’t have again. He had given her hope again, hope that she could love another and still hold the memory—James’s memory—close to her heart without feeling like she was betraying him.
Only to find out that Malcolm had been the reason she had been deep in grief and despair to begin with.
The sound of a horse neighing caught her ear, and Edna used the pale moonlight to find a tree with a low branch, grateful that she had learned to climb trees with her cousins as she shimmied up the branches and out of sight.
It didn’t take long for the horse to come into her view, and Edna held her breath as she realized that it was indeed Malcolm. She couldn’t see his face, but his form, the sword at his back, told her that it was him.
That and her heart wrenched in her chest at the sight of him, glad that she hadn’t killed him with the pitcher after all. As much as she wanted to hate him, to never see him again, Edna knew she couldn’t. There were tender feelings that would take a long while to dissipate.
Could he sense her? Edna had heard of skilled hunters to be able to sense their prey, and while she wasn’t an animal, Malcolm was a strong, capable warrior who clearly was looking for her.
When Malcolm moved on away from the clearing that she was currently looking at, Edna loosened a breath. He hadn’t sensed her at all.
Good. She didn’t wish to face him, nor did she wish to kill him to get away. If he found her, Edna knew he wouldn’t take her home.
