“Ye missed her. She left well before dawn.”
Ailean stared at the guard. After leaving his father’s solar, he’d gone straight to Fiona’s bower—only to find it empty. He’d then gone to her workshop, but she wasn’t there either. Afterward, he’d visited the hall and looked for her there. And his search had finally brought him to the gates. “She’sgone?”
“Aye.” The guard, Aengus, gave him an irritated look. “That’s what I said.”
“Where did she go?”
Aengus shrugged. “Who knows? Home, I suppose. Where’s she from?”
“Craignure.”
“Aye, well … that’s where she’ll be headed.”
Ailean swallowed a curse and turned away.Satan’s cods. He couldn’t let Fiona leave. Not like this. Their affair had been discovered, but that didn’t mean she’d be cast out.
She wasn’t supposed to leave. Hadn’t his father made it clear that Kylie would speak to her in the morning? His stepmother was a gentle soul. Aye, she was disappointed that Fiona had gotten involved with him, but she’d forgive her. She wasn’t the kind to cast a servant out without good reason.
But Fiona—the proud, stubborn lass—hadn’t waited to talk to Kylie.
Instead, she fled.
He’d pack a few things, saddle Sgòth, and be on his way too. However, instead of riding north to Ardnacross, he’d follow Fiona south to Craignure. He remembered then that she told him of her unhappy home life. She wouldn’t want to return to Craignure and her kin, but in the face of her humiliation, she had little choice.
And he had to go after her.
He’d messed up and needed to tell her he was sorry. An apology wouldn’t make things right. However, it would be a start. He couldn’t let Fiona walk out of his life without making sure she was going to be all right.
The hurt he’d seen in her eyes earlier before she fled haunted him.
Do ye think ye can explain yer cowardice away?His conscience heckled him.Are there any words that will put this right?
It was true. Fiona would see him as a knave, as she was right to.
He’d truly shat in his porridge—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t go after her.
Kylie would surely welcome her back. And this time, he wouldn’t be around to mess things up for her.
He swiveled on his heel then, intending to stalk back into the tower house. However, his gaze alighted upon a familiar face.
A warrior, with a scar splitting an eyebrow, stood a few yards away, watching him coldly.
Ailean stilled, even as heat ignited in his gut.
Rowan. The shiteweasel.
The man he’d considered a friend until a few hours earlier didn’t look away. If anything, his chin lifted in silent defiance.
“Looks like yer behavior finally caught up with ye,” Rowan drawled. “Someone had to tell the laird. Ye always take what ye want. Always get the girl. Ye don’t deserve her.”
For a heartbeat, Ailean just stared at him.
Then he moved.
Grabbing Rowan by the collar, he drove him back into the wall. His spine thudded against stone. The warrior’s breath burst from him in a startled grunt, eyes flaring wide.
“Thanks to ye,” Ailean growled, “Fiona’s gone.” Rowan’s lip curled, his chest swelling as he readied himself to reply. However, Ailean cut him off. “And I’ve been disinherited. Cast out. All because of yer bruised pride.”
Rowan blinked. The color drained from his face. “What—?”
