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She’d seemed dumbfounded to hear that he’d marry her and run her farm. Little did she know, the idea of a modest slice of farmland and a run-down crofter’s cottage was heaven, particularly if it meant he’d have Elspeth by his side. He was a free man now, but freedom was nothing without pride. Yet with her as his wife, he’d be a man standing tall.
His mind went to her father, and he shoved the thoughts away, not yet willing to address his lingering doubts. He’d never felt this light, this joyful, and he’d savor it just a bit longer before facing the details of reality.
Besides, Elspeth seemed certain she could convince her father, and so he’d be certain too, for her sake. And so, instead of entertaining the dark thoughts that were his wont, his long strides quickly cut the distance to their farm, imagining she’d already explained everything to the man.
Perhaps they’d both be waiting in the fields to greet him. Perhaps Albert Farquharson had agreed already to their union. Surely the man saw what good Aidan had done for the farm, what more he could do.
He crested the hill, and his heart seized in his chest. The stench of ashes choked his lungs. Bodies of sheep baked in the sun. Her farm was a smoldering rubble.
Elspeth.
He wanted to scream her name, to cry out, but couldn’t make a sound, could barely breathe. Anguish flooded him. He’d banked it behind a dam, but seeing the devastation, the dam crumbled, and despair swamped him once more, so agonizingly familiar.
He was cursed. He was as charred a ruin as her cottage, and the drifting smoke was his soul dispersing, inconsequential, up to the heavens.
Gritting his teeth, he forced breath in and out of his lungs. He forced his mind to reason. Forced his legs to work beneath him, taking him to her farm nestled in the glen below.
As he neared, the sight made his blood run cold, but he assured himself that Elspeth was safe. The ashes were cooling, the smoke thinning. It was an old fire. It’d raged when she was aboard the Journeyman, safe by his side.
He shouldn’t have let her go. He should’ve kept her close, kept her safe until they were wed.
Safe, he made himself believe. Surely she was safe.
But what if she weren’t? A chill crept along his flesh. Because this was no accident.
He went to the paddock, taking in the carnage. This was the work of man’s hands, and he knew whose.
But where was his Beth? Perhaps she’d taken shelter with Angus, the neighboring farmer. Even as it occurred to him, his legs were racing there. Perhaps she was at the neighboring farm, even now, waiting for him.
Her blasted puppy bowled him over as he neared Angus’s homestead, and damned if Aidan wasn’t glad to see the scamp. He bent to pat the dog, praying that when he stood, he’d look up to find Elspeth walking toward him. “Achilles, lad. Where’s your mistress?”
“She’s not here,” he heard a voice call from behind him.
His last thread of hope snapped. He stood and stared Angus down. “Where’s Elspeth?” The farmer gave him a slow and considering look, and the man’s stoicism infuriated Aidan. “Why do you just stand there? Where is she? What’s happened?”
“She came with her father. He said he needed to deliver her to her fiancé in Aberdeen. I lent him my cart. ”
Her fiancé? Cold dread prickled through his chest. That could only mean one thing: her marriage to Fraser was on. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“Why would I not?” Angus went about his business, leaning his chaff fork along the side of his barn. “Farquharson said it was where she needed to be. She’s to be married, and soon. ”
Aidan felt a body approach and turned to find Cormac standing at his side. The sight stunned him.
“I saw the smoke from my boat,” Cormac said, glancing from one man to the other. His body was tensed, with a hand on the dagger at his hip. “What’s happened here?”
Cormac looked as though he were ready to throttle Angus first and ask questions later. Aidan wondered briefly, would Cormac truly stand by his side, without question or hesitation? In that instant, he thought his twin just might.
He greeted Cormac with a meaningful bob of his head. “Elspeth’s cursed drunk of a father took her. She’s to marry some merchant, whom”—he glared pointedly at Angus—“she doesn’t want. ”
Angus shrugged. “That’s no concern of mine. ”
“Couldn’t you see the woman was upset?” She’d surely been upset, hadn’t she?
He felt Cormac’s hand at his shoulder. Could his brother read his thoughts so well, or was it simply that he sensed how dangerously close to violence Aidan was getting?
“I don’t ken the lass’s mind,” Angus said. “She was silent as a mouse. But then she usually is. ”
He bristled at the comment, but Cormac was quick to switch focus, asking, “Who is this merchant?”
