Chapter Fifteen
Alarm slammed Cyrus. "What? Fraser didn't take Norval and MacNeil with him back to Rebbinglen?"
Reid shook his shaggy red head. "Nay, he left a note in the gatehouse."
"Damn his reckless hide!" Rage crawling through his veins, Cyrus stormed out the front door and down the steps.
Reid followed.
"How long ago?" Cyrus demanded.
"Not too long. 'Haps a half-hour."
Cyrus halted and turned. "Where's the note?"
"MacNeil has it. Before Fraser left, I was in the gatehouse alone. Irving was around back. Norval and MacNeil were sleeping. Fraser told me you wished to see me immediately. I hurried to your chamber but couldn't find you. I searched a few places, then returned to the gatehouse to ask Fraser where you were."
Damnation. Cyrus wanted to kick himself. He should've been in his own chamber. He might have been able to stop Fraser.
"When I couldn't find him and saw that his horse was missing, I awoke Norval and MacNeil. That's when we found the note."
"Did the stable lad or the groom see him leave?"
"Nay, they were sleeping in the loft. Fraser must have been quiet."
Cyrus wanted to throttle his younger brother. "He doesn't have much of a lead then. MacNeil?" Cyrus called.
The three guards trotted down the gatehouse steps and met them in the courtyard. MacNeil handed him the note.
"Brother, I could not risk taking two of your guards, leaving you with so little protection. I'm leaving earlier than planned and slipping away quietly. I doubt they will see me. I'll bring back a large force of men." Cyrus called Fraser every foul name he could think of. "MacNeil and Irving, find him. Accompany him to Castle Rebbinglen. Watch your backs."
"Aye, m'laird." They hastened to the stable to saddle their horses. The groom and stable lad assisted them.
"Hell, I wish I could go after him." But he couldn't. He had to stay here and protect Elspeth.
"They'll find him," Reid said.
"They'd better." Concern for Fraser tightening his chest, he drew in a deep breath of the fresh, cool air and squinted at the bright reddish dawn light gleaming at the horizon.
Fraser had always done foolish things like this. Fortunately, he'd always come through unscathed. He must've had a band of rough and tumble angels watching out for his safety. Cyrus shook his head, hoping Dalacroy's men hadn't been watching their gates.
Cyrus knew he was like a mother hen when it came to his brothers and sister. In the past, when they had been in trouble, he had gone through hellish battles and frozen blizzards to rescue them.
Having saddled their horses, MacNeil and Irving led the animals out the postern gate. Following last night's storm, the roads would be even muddier than usual which would slow their progress.
After bidding them farewell, Cyrus headed toward the gatehouse. At the top, he could see little, aside from the gray morning mist.
If they found Fraser and went on to Rebbinglen, he wouldn't know they'd been successful for a day or two, when all his men arrived here.
Never had he been so impatient to ken the outcome, and unable to do anything about it. This was how a woman made a man vulnerable. If only he'd taken her back to Rebbinglen after the carriage accident, none of this would've happened. But back then, he hadn't a clue as to how much danger she was in.
He shouldn't have spent the night with her in the tower. 'Twas the worst decision he'd ever made. Normally, he followed gut instinct and rationality, not just in leading the clan but in every part of his life. But last night he'd followed a completely different instinct, one he was not accustomed to abiding by. Of a certainty, he'd had trysts, but he hadn't allowed a woman to divert his mind from its course since he'd become a grown man. He focused on the outcome he wanted, and he never diverged. He never gave up the strict control he maintained over all aspects of his life… until last night.
He'd wanted her too damned badly to stop or to listen to the sensible part of himself.
After experiencing such staggering passion and pleasure with her, he had succumbed to severe exhaustion, both in body and in mind. 'Twas almost as if he'd been going nonstop for years… until last night. He did not even feel like himself this morn. Something had shifted within him, and he was not certain he liked it at all. Self-discipline was important to him. 'Twas how he had advanced so quickly since becoming chief at a young age.
But now a woman had altered the plan he'd held for over a decade. How on earth could he, in all honesty and fairness, continue with his plan to marry Lady Lily? One part of him—the hardnosed, dedicated and determined part—still maintained a thread of hope he could marry the marquess's daughter. But the newly awakened indulgent, hedonistic, and selfish side of him could only imagine Elspeth in his bed.
