Page 8 of The Beastly Earl

Another oath of fury erupted out of him and Ewan leapt to his feet. Dragging the wool blanket off the back of his chair, he threw it over the flames to smother them. Stomping on the blanket, the fire died a quick death. The sound of running feet made him turn toward the study door as Asadi burst into the room at full tilt. The boy jerked to a halt just inside the room.

“You are all right, Argaty sahib?”

“The lamp broke.” Ewan shrugged as he jerked his head toward the mess on the floor. “I had to put out the fire.”

“It broke, Argaty sahib?” Dark eyes wide in his light brown face, the boy’s gaze darted to the charred edges of the blanket before shifting to the table where his book had taken the place of the lamp. “Perhaps your book did not like the lamp?”

Ewan growled with irritation as he glared at Asadi, who had already begun cleaning up the mess. Wheeling about on the edge of his heel, he returned to his chair, and stared into the fire. The heat of the flames reminded him of the desert. Gunfire and screams suddenly echoed in his head, and he stood up to pace the floor waiting for the cries to fade as they usually did, except in his sleep.

“Shall I bring you dinner, Argaty sahib?” At the boy’s question, Ewan directed a scowl of aggravation in his direction.

“Leave me be, Asadi,” he snarled.

The boy quietly moved toward the door carrying the remains of the oil lamp and scorched blanket. As Asadi reached the doorway, Ewan blew out a harsh breath of disgust at his abrupt manner with the boy.

“Asadi. You may bring me something to eat.”

“As you wish, Argaty sahib,” the boy said cheerfully at Ewan’s unspoken apology.

Ewan didn’t bother to look in the boy’s direction as the door closed behind him. Instead, he continued to pace the carpet. For some reason, he knew tonight would be another restless night. He snorted loudly. When was any night not filled with the screams of injured men having their limbs sawed off? He strode over to the window behind his desk and with his only hand threw up the window to welcome in the cold damp air.

The fire in the hearth his only source of light in the room, it allowed him to see the landscape more easily. Off in the distance he thought he saw a movement, but quickly dismissed it. What madman or animal would be out on a night like this? A tentative knock made him glance over his shoulder as he saw the door slowly opening.

“My lord.” McCallum’s quiet, yet steady voice was filled with respect. A long-time retainer of the Argaty family, McCallum had known him since he was a boy. The Scotsman was the only member of the household, other than Asadi, he allowed in his quarters.

“Finn just sent word from the stables that a horse has appeared out of the storm.”

“What the devil does that have to do with me? Tell Finn to stable the damn thing. We’ll find the owner tomorrow.”

“Aye, my lord. However, there is a slight complication.”

“Then say it McCallum, stop dancing around what you came to say.” Ewan frowned as he turned to face the Scotsman who never seemed troubled by Ewan’s foul moods.

“The horse appears tae have been unhitched from a carriage.”

There was a quiet note in McCallum’s voice that said he expected Ewan to respond to the situation. What that response was, he had no idea. Irritated by the retainer’s unspoken belief that Ewan was somehow required to do something, he glared at the older man.

“And what the hell makes you think that?”

“The animal has no saddle or tack other than a bridle. And the reins had been deliberately cut tae a shorter length tae make the horse easy tae ride.”

“In this weather?” Ewan snorted his disbelief. “A man would have to be daft to be out in a storm like this.”

“Unless a vehicle had come tae some harm, my lord.” The Scotsman’s words made Ewan scowl at the man with disgusted disbelief before he turned back to the open window.

In the distance, he saw something move against the landscape once more. He narrowed his one eye to focus on the spot. Perhaps McCallum was right. If a carriage had experienced a mishap on Doune Road, it would make sense for someone to try to seek help. At that precise moment lightning flashed in the sky to illuminate the countryside. In the bright light he realized the movement he’d seen was a figure staggering toward the house.

Whoever it was came to a sudden halt and stood swaying in the heavy wind and rain. A fraction of a second later, the figure disappeared like an apparition on the rain soaked moor. For a moment, he continued to stare out at the spot where he’d seen the figure expecting to see whoever was out in the storm to rise to their feet. Ewan released a soft noise of disgusted skepticism at the likelihood he’d actually seen someone.

“I do no’ like tae think we ignored the possibility of leaving someone out on the moor on a night like this, Master Ewan.”

McCallum only used his childhood title when gently rebuking Ewan. The man had become a father figure to him after his father had died in a riding accident when he was just a boy, and he allowed the familiarity. He grimaced as he turned to face the man.

It would be a fool’s errand to send Finn out onto the moors in the middle of one of the worst storms Ewan had seen in a long time. The lad had not grown up on the moors as Ewan had. Not to mention it would be difficult to find someone in the dark if the lad didn’t know where to look, when even he wasn’t sure if what he’d seen had been real. With a grunt of displeasure, Ewan slammed the window shut and turned to face McCallum.

“Tell Finn to saddle Lachlan, and send Asadi in with that infernal contraption as well as my coat.”

“Yes, my lord.” Although his face was stoic, McCallum’s voice echoed with approval.