Chapter Sixteen
Alarmed, Elspeth leapt up and spun around. Cyrus stood a few yards behind her within the walled garden. She let out a breath and placed her hand over her racing heart.
"Must you sneak up on me like that? You near scared the life out of me."
"What are you doing out here?" He glanced around at the corners and along the tops of the walls. "And who were you talking to?"
Was it as she'd feared—since they'd been intimate, would he start making demands of her? His line of questioning certainly made it seem so. The passionate lover of the night before was a thousand miles away. He seemed harder and more severe in the early morning light. Obviously, he was pretending naught had happened. Was he angry at her, or at himself, for losing control? It mattered not to her. She was finding it far easier than she'd expected to face him this morn.
She glanced away, recalling what he'd asked her. Even if he hadn't been in a surly mood, she would not have told him she talked to her plants. He would think her fit for Bedlam. "I was talking to myself and… admiring the roses. What has gotten you riled up?"
"Come inside and I'll tell you." He glared at the walls again. "I don't ken how secure this area is. The walls are low."
They were at least ten feet tall, but she knew most fortified castle walls were much taller and far thicker.
"Very well." She glanced one last time at her beloved rose, deciding she would have to return in the evening and again in the morn, so she could see it completely open and indulge in the scent yet again. Plus, see if any others had unfurled. She hastened out of the garden and made certain Cyrus closed the gate behind them.
They went in through the back entrance and climbed the servants' stair to the hall.
"After the arrow struck you, I would think you would be more cautious about going outside." Cyrus headed toward the study.
She followed him, though she was irked at his chastising tone. "I wasn't outside when I was struck."
After they were in the room, he closed the door and gave her a sidelong glance. "You ken what I mean."
"I wanted to visit my garden." She shrugged. "I suppose that makes me reckless."
"Aye, and so is Fraser." At the hearth, Cyrus stabbed at the glowing embers with the fire poker.
"What do you mean?" She sat down on the chair near him.
"He rode off to Rebbie's. Alone." Cyrus's frown was especially fierce as he tossed a stick of wood in.
"He didn't even take a guard?"
"Nay.Generouslyleft them here for us. Imbecile." Cyrus clenched a jaw and arose to glare into the flames. "He left a note in the gatehouse."
Ice ran through her veins. "Good heavens! If he's hurt, 'twill be my fault."
He scowled at her. "Nay. Won't be your fault. He's always doing daft things and taking too many risks. He's been that way the whole of his life."
Still, she felt panicked, as if Fraser were her own brother. "We should go after him."
"I've sent two of the guards."
"Surely, they'll find him. Why did the front gate guard allow him to leave alone?"
Cyrus explained to her how Fraser had tricked the guard.
"What a wily fox. I hope they find him and escort him safely to Castle Rebbinglen."
"Aye, well, they're amongst the best guards in the Highlands. I expect them to be successful." Cyrus's dark and serious gaze ran over her. "How are you feeling this morn?" He lifted a brow as he observed her.
Heat singed her face and throat. Was he indeed asking how she felt after their wild and wanton bedsport?
"How is your arm?" he clarified.
"Oh. 'Tis a bit sore, but naught to worry over. What about your shoulder?"
