Page 10 of A Bride for the Wicked Highlander (Daring a Highland Laird #2)
“You didn’t!” Grace yelped, smacking him lightly.
Laughing gruffly, he gazed back down at his wife.
“Of course I did. Why would I nae say that to me friend? Ye were sayin’ the same thing to Madeleine.
” He offered an apologetic look to Maddie.
“It’s nothin’ against ye, Madeleine. The opposite, in truth.
It’s him that I dinnae think is suitable for ye, but I dinnae think that’s why he isnae here.
He wouldnae run, Madeleine; he’s nae a coward. ”
Already awkward in the tight, uncomfortable dress, feeling so very foolish that she’d given up her trousers and shirt in the name of being courteous to her future husband, Maddie sat back as she absorbed the information.
Despite Hunter’s protests to the contrary, she was convinced that she was the reason Oscar hadn’t shown up to dinner.
I’m unsettled too, but I’m here. The insult of his absence was more than she was willing to tolerate, and she wouldn’t be waiting another five minutes to tell him so.
“If you will excuse me,” she said, rising from the chair. “I’m going to fetch him myself, from wherever he might be. Please, start eating, and enjoy the food before there’s not a bit of warmth left in it.”
Hunter jumped up. “Nay, Madeleine, ye stay. I’ll go and find him.”
“No, thank you, I really must insist on it being me,” she replied, already heading for the door.
“If you’re the one who brings him back here, it will spoil the mood of our dinner.
It’s impossible to enjoy yourself if there are two people arguing across the table, or not arguing, but simmering with rage.
Please, begin your meal. Hopefully, I won’t be gone too long. ”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grace take hold of Hunter’s shirt sleeve, pulling him gently back into his seat. The laird still seemed reluctant, but as Grace whispered something into his ear, he gave a small nod and relaxed into his chair, reaching eagerly for a piece of succulent pheasant.
Now, where to begin my search? Maddie paused in the vaulted corridor outside the hall, searching the curving stone ceiling and tapestry-covered walls for inspiration.
The obvious choice was the training yard, but Hunter had said himself that Oscar wouldn’t be there. The next most obvious choice was either Oscar’s study or Ryder’s chambers, for the younger brother would almost certainly know where Oscar was.
The only problem was, Maddie still didn’t know this castle at all and had no notion of where either of those places were. She couldn’t have found her way back to Oscar’s study if her life depended on it.
“Is everythin’ to yer likin’, m’lady?” an angel in an apron and a simple black dress said, emerging from one of the branching hallways with a tray of savory tarts.
“Oh, Betty-Ann!” Maddie crowed, relieved. “You are just the person I wanted to see.”
The old woman blushed, smoothing a self-conscious hand across her silver hair. “Well, I daenae think I’ve ever heard anyone say that to me before.” She mustered a husky laugh. “What was it ye wanted me for, m’lady?”
“Our dinner party is missing the guest of honor,” Maddie replied, her ire rushing back in on a bitter tide. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Laird Muir is, would you? He hasn’t yet appeared, and I’d hate to think he’s decided to forego dinner altogether, the night before our wedding.”
The maid blinked, suddenly flustered. “Oh, well, this isnae good.” She moved the tray of savory tarts to her other hand. “I saw him headin’ for the loch just before sunset, as he often does, but he should’ve been back ages ago. Are ye sure he hasnae come down to join ye yet?”
“Unless he has become invisible, I’m quite sure,” Maddie replied brusquely, a little offended that everyone seemed to think she was the one who had made a mistake. “If you would be so kind, might you point me in the direction of the loch? I fear I have a betrothed to fish for.”
Betty-Ann nodded effusively, setting down her tray altogether. “This way, m’lady. And let’s fetch ye a cloak on our way out, else ye’ll catch yer death in the cold.”
“Thank you,” Maddie said, as the maid grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her bodily down the hallway with more strength than one might have expected from such an aged, tiny woman.
Fifteen minutes later, Maddie held a lantern in her hand, a cloak pinned at her throat, as she picked her way through the darkness of the castle’s surrounding woodland.
An owl hooted somewhere in the distance, the sound a fruitless warning to the night creatures that rustled and darted through the undergrowth.
Nature, as Maddie had learned, could be cruel, and only the lucky would survive until dawn.
If you haven’t drowned, you’ll wish you had, she fumed inwardly, squinting to keep the woodland trail within her sight.
Betty-Ann had warned her not to lose the path, or she might end up wandering for hours, and though the kindly maid had offered to accompany her, Maddie had refused.
A decision she was now keenly regretting.
She swore loudly as her foot struck a rock, almost sending her flying face-first into the mulched path. Pain shivered up her shin, piling fresh kindling onto the bonfire of her silent fury.
I’m going to kill you, Oscar. Truly, I am.
Muttering and cursing under her breath, she continued along the barely visible path, hobbling somewhat.
The apricot glow of the lantern reminded her of simpler days at Horndean, when she and her dearest friends would return from the town of Lockton through the woods, laughing and chattering without a care in the world.
How quickly things could change.
A short while later, her shin no longer hurting, the trees thinned and the path opened out onto a pebbled shore.
A spread of black water, as still as glass, stretched ahead of her, playing tricks with her eyes.
The reflection of the trees made it seem like the woods went on, the truth only revealed when the moon peeped out from behind the clouds.
In that fleeting, silvery light, a figure appeared from the mirror-still water, as if a statue had been placed in the loch.
Bare, broad shoulders caught the moon’s glow, dark hair dripping trails of water down a muscled, rippling back.
Scars of every size competed with the lines and contours of that defined back, the sight of so many stealing away the hottest cinders of her anger.
Oh...
She had guessed at his impressive physique, her imagination filling in some of the unknowns, but seeing and imagining were two very different things. And he was... magnificent.
“Ye shouldnae be here, lass,” Oscar’s voice rippled the water, somehow aware of her presence though he hadn’t moved a muscle. As if he’d known she would come to him. As if he’d been waiting, despite what he’d said.