Ailean leaned closer. “Proud of yerself?”
Silence pulsed between them. Rowan’s mouth opened, then closed again. The smug certainty was gone, replaced by shock and something else. Guilt.
Disgust curdled in Ailean’s gut. He released him with a sharp shove.
Rowan sagged against the stone, shaken. “Ailean,” he rasped. “I—”
“Save it.” Ailean turned—and saw Carrie in the shadows, hands clenched in her apron, staring at Rowan as if he’d just sprouted horns and a forked tail.
For a while now, the lass had pined for the warrior, had waited for him to notice her. But now, in the murky dawn light, she saw who he really was.
Ailean walked away without another word.
He stalked back into the tower house and was just crossing the entrance hall when Lyle appeared on the stairs above.
“Kylie and Da are arguing,” he greeted him gruffly.
“Let them.” Ailean started mounting the stairs and went to push past his brother.
However, Lyle put a hand out, stopping him. “They’re quarreling about Fiona. Kylie just went to check on her and found her bower empty.”
“That’s because she’s left Dounarwyse,” he replied. “And I’m going after her.”
He moved to pass again, but Lyle’s hand held firm. “I had nothing to do with Da’s decision. Ye do know that?”
“Of course, I do,” Ailean snapped. “Now get out of my way.”
Hurt flared in Lyle’s eyes.
Ailean stilled as self-reproach struck him like a quarrel in the chest. Instead of continuing up the stairs, he reached out and put a hand on Lyle’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Ye didn’t deserve that. I brought this on myself.”
Lyle swallowed, releasing his arm and stepping back. “Aye, ye did … but Da’s reaction was too harsh.”
“Aye … he’s a proud bastard. As am I.”
Ailean mounted the stairs to the first-floor landing. Lyle followed in silence.
Ahead, angry voices spilled through the open doorway.
“Ye humiliated the lass.” Kylie’s voice was high and sharp, stripped of its usual calm. “No wonder she ran off!”
“Don’t make excuses for her,” Rae shot back. “Fiona knew what she was doing.”
“But it wasn’t her fault! Ye know what Ailean is like with the lasses. Yer son isrelentless.”
Ailean stiffened. Heat crept up his neck. Shame lodged under his ribs, heavy and inescapable. His stepmother’s words struck true, and the truth hurt worse than his father’s anger ever could.
He should keep walking. Pack. Leave.
Instead, he stepped through the doorway.
Kylie stood before the hearth, hands braced on her hips, face flushed. Rae loomed opposite her, anger and regret warring behind his eyes.
Ailean cleared his throat.
Both turned. Rae’s gaze hardened at once. Lyle hovered behind Ailean, forgotten.
“I’m going after Fiona,” Ailean said.
