He muttered a curse, wanting to smash his fist against the stone wall of the gatehouse. He was livid at his own unrestrained abandon. Equally infuriating… he wanted her again. Right now.
What the devil difference did it make which woman occupied his bed or provided him children? A woman was a woman, he'd always told himself.
But now he knew that was not true. 'Twas only a lie he'd told himself all these years. Not all women were the same. Some made him feel things he didn't want to, drove him to distraction and caused him to veer off course.
He had never been so annoyed with himself. Why couldn't he maintain control of his thoughts and actions?
Surely, he had overestimated his attraction to Elspeth. With the military conflicts he'd been dealing with, it had been months since he had last bedded a woman. That had to be the reason his lusts had overpowered his logical mind the previous night. With the light of a new day, maybe he could think more clearly and see that Elspeth was not any more special than Lily.
In fact, now that he saw reason, he could make a mental list of all Elspeth's faults and why she was completely unsuitable for him and the wrong lady for helping lead his clan.
It vexed him that he was thinking of her even now, when he should be focusing on Fraser and the danger he could be in.
Cyrus stared north, toward the Cairngorm Mountains where the men had vanished until the sun peered in sharply from the east. He didn't ken how the devil he was going to keep his sanity until he saw that Fraser was out of danger.
∞∞∞
Just after dawn, Fraser slowed his horse to a trot, allowing for a moderate rest after he'd urged the horse into a gallop about a mile outside Darby Hall and maintained that quick pace for several miles.
Cyrus would give him a severe scolding for his risky actions, but the alternative was even less acceptable. He couldn't leave the chief of their clan scarcely protected, with only two guards.
Passing through a small wood, Fraser heard the pounding hoof beats of two horses fast approaching from behind. He glanced back, just able to make out the two riders in the distance. He veered off the road, guiding his mount between the tree trunks and behind a large blaeberry bush.
As the approaching riders drew closer, he recognized them as Irving and MacNeil. "'Slud," he muttered. He had vaguely expected this, but he'd hoped Cyrus would show more wisdom about his own safety. Why would he leave himself unprotected in such a way?
He knew why. Cyrus put the safety of his siblings above his own.
As the two guards raced by, Fraser yelled, "Tùlach Àrd!"
Their wide-eyed gazes flying to him, they drew back on the reins. The horses reared in alarm, their front hooves pawing the air. MacNeil barely maintained his seat. The two men finally got their snorting mounts under control and calmed.
Fraser guided his horse onto the road. "Why the devil did you two follow me?"
"As you well ken, the chief sent us," MacNeil muttered.
"Do you truly think he will be safe there with only two guards?"
"'Tis not our place to question his authority. He ordered us to escort you to Castle Rebbinglen and 'tis what we'll do." MacNeil appeared as grumpy as Fraser felt.
"Were you followed?"
"We saw no one," Irving said.
"Very well, then. We'll need to make haste. From what I remember, there's a small loch not too far from here. After a drink and a brief rest, the horses should be able to keep to a quick pace for a while."
They headed forward at a brisk walk. Fraser hoped his memory served. As they'd traveled this way before, in the opposite direction, he'd paid attention to the landmarks so he could find his way back easily.
Through the trees, the blood-orange sunrise glinted off the water of a loch in the distance. If only the dark leaden clouds approaching from the west would hold their rain until he and his companions arrived at Castle Rebbinglen, but he doubted they would be so lucky.
∞∞∞
When Elspeth awoke to the rosy dawn light beaming in the window, she was startled to find herself in the tower room. Then, with stunning clarity, she remembered the scorching and erotic encounter she'd had with Cyrus the night before.
"Oh, goodness," she breathed. Her face burned at the memory of the sizzling lovemaking she and Cyrus had indulged in. Not just once but twice. What on earth had possessed her? She had not imbibed alcohol; she had been in full control of her mental faculties. However, once Cyrus had kissed her, she had lost command of her actions.
Blast him! Why did he have to be so masculine and arousing? Why could she not resist him?
She arose from the bed, realizing her back and legs were a bit sore. 'Twas mortifying she could strain muscles during bedsport. She remembered she had been extremely enthusiastic about Cyrus's sensuality. What did he think of her now? He knew she'd already been an earl's mistress and now she was an impulsive lover to another earl. A fallen woman? Aye, doubly so. But she'd been called worse.
