Page 24 of Married to the Scarred Highlander (Unwanted Highland Wives #4)

24

S he was gone, and all he could think about was how he was going to get her back.

“Well, ye really blew that one, Braither,” he heard Ersie say from the entrance as the carriage disappeared from view.

He glanced over his shoulder. “What makes ye say that?”

“She’s left, has she nae? Or has Freya just stolen the bairn?”

Ciaran rolled his eyes, joining his sister. “Aye, she’s left to stay at MacNiall Castle. She said she needed time.”

“Time? Time for what?”

“Just. Time,” he gritted out, already annoyed by her line of questioning.

“Just. Go. Get. Her. Then. Ye. Daft. Fool,” she said, clipping her words sarcastically.

He spun around angrily. “Ye dinnae ken anythin’—”

“Nay? Do ye truly wish to ken how much I dinnae ken about this entire situation, then?” Ersie said firmly, waving her hand in the air between them.

He eyed her cautiously.

What does she ken?

“Come on, big braither, let’s go,” she said, waving him inside the keep.

The two of them walked silently into the farthest receiving room, used on very rare occasions, where they knew they wouldn’t be disturbed.

As the door closed and they sat down, Ersie sighed.

“Are ye just goin’ to sit here and sulk?” Her voice was far too smug for his liking.

She tapped her foot impatiently and crossed her arms over her chest. Her dark hair was still tangled from the fight, and she looked like she’d barely slept.

I wonder if I look that wretched.

“I’m nae sulkin’. I’ve only just arrived here. What are ye on about?” Ciaran muttered, running a hand over his face.

“Aye? Because ye look like we didnae win the battle last night.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “If ye came here to gloat, ye can piss right off.”

Ersie chuckled, shifting her weight to stand only to drop into the chair across from him, kicking her booted feet up on the table. “Nay, I stayed to remind ye that ye let a perfect woman slip through yer fingers. Where did yer wife go, then?”

“She’s nae me wife anymore.”

Ersie raised an eyebrow. “Did she say as much?”

“Well, nay,” Ciaran said, raking a hand through his hair.

“So, she’s still yer wife?”

“For now,” he muttered darkly.

His sister sighed dramatically, stretching her arms over her head. “Ye’re a damned fool.”

“Watch it, lass,” he warned.

“Ye also look like shite,” she said, shifting the conversation easily.

Ciaran huffed a humorless laugh but didn’t respond.

“Ye’re thinkin’ too much.”

“Dinnae have much of a choice,” he muttered. “There’s a great deal to consider.”

“Aye, sure. It’s important, but is it truly that much to consider?”

He exhaled. “I just let her go.”

“Go after her, then.”

Hearing the obvious solution to his problem only set his teeth on edge. He stayed silent.

She smirked. “I just think it’s strange that ye’ll quell an uprising without hesitation, but ye cannae fight for one woman.”

Ciaran shot her a glare, but she held her ground, unwavering as ever.

“She left out of spite.”

“She told ye as much?” she shot back quickly.

“Nay, she left because she couldnae trust that I’d ever be the man she needed. And I ken that well enough because she asked me and I hesitated.”

“Arenae ye the man she needs, though?”

That’s the damned question, is it nae?

“She deserves a real husband,” he admitted, his voice low. “A man who can give her more than just a name and a castle. More than a lifetime of uncertainty.”

“D’ye truly believe ye arenae capable of givin’ her what she needs ?”

“She’s asked for a bairn.”

“Ye seem capable, or do I have that wrong? Did ye get more… injured in the uprising than ye’re lettin’ on?”

Ciaran’s jaw clenched. “Our faither was a coward and a monster.”

Ersie didn’t even flinch, but something softened in her gaze. “Aye, he was.”

“He told me that it runs in our blood.” The words came quieter, as though saying them aloud gave them more power. “What if—” He hesitated. “What if I am like him?”

His sister’s breath hitched, just for a moment. Then, she shook her head. “Ye killed him, Ciaran.”

“I had to.”

“Aye, ye had to. Because ye arenae him.”

“That doesnae mean it cannae happen.”

“Listen, Braither. Ye think Laura doesnae already ken who ye are? That she doesnae see the man ye’ve become?” She shook her head. “She wouldnae care for ye if ye were truly a monster. And she does care. But she willnae wait forever for ye to figure that out.”

I’m nae worthy of her.

After a long moment, he sighed, shaking his head. He didn’t want to quarrel with the sister that he had only just gotten back, and he certainly didn’t want to think about Laura for fear that he’d do something he’d regret.

“Ye fought well last night.”

Ersie stilled, blinking at him. Then, slowly, her lips curled into a grin. “Did ye just compliment me?”

Ciaran rolled his eyes, but he didn’t take it back. “Aye. Ye did well. Thank ye for protectin’ me?—”

“Yer…?”

Family .

It was what he wanted to say. Instead, he stayed silent.

Her grin widened, and she simply said, “Ye’re welcome.”

It was a quiet moment between them, one that Ciaran hadn’t realized he needed.

Despite everything, she had proven herself a warrior. He had always known she was capable, but last night had solidified it. She protected his family— their family. Had taken action without a second thought and had stood beside him in battle like a true leader. She deserved to hear it.

“Doughall is a lucky man. He is lucky to have ye as his second-in-command. I was surprised ye didnae go with him. He left earlier today, wanted to be the first to arrive at his castle so everything is perfect when Freya joins him.”

Before Ersie replied anything, Mrs. Morrigan came into the room, bearing a large tray of fresh bread and steaming tea.

“What the—” Ciaran said, quickly standing to meet her at the door, taking the heavy tray from her frail hands.

“I didnae think I asked for company this mornin’.” He exhaled through his nose and set the tray down on the table that Ersie’s boots rested on.

The old woman ignored him as she sat down in his chair. She sighed with heavy satisfaction. “Aye, well, I figured ye would both be too stubborn to feed yerselves.”

His sister bit back a laugh, reaching for a piece of bread.

Mrs. Morrigan poured herself some tea, then studied him with those all-knowing eyes. “So, what’s yer plan, lad?”

Ciaran frowned. “Plan for what?”

The healer raised an eyebrow. “For Laura, of course. Or did ye think ye could just let her walk away and that would be the end of it?”

His grip on his cup tightened as his sister simply beamed at him, self-righteous and smug.

Mrs. Morrigan hummed. “I suppose I could stay on as yer healer while she’s gone, though I doubt she’ll stay away for long.”

Ciaran perked up at that, as did Ersie, who spoke first. “Aye? And why do ye say that, Mrs. Morrigan?”

“Love is a stubborn thing. It doesnae matter if ye try to walk away from it—it’ll always pull ye back in.”

Ciaran scoffed. “Love? That’s what ye think this is?”

Mrs. Morrigan gave him a pointed look. “I think ye already ken what this is, laddie. Ye’re just too damn proud to admit it.”

Ersie leaned forward. “Women in love search for reasons to stay… nae reasons to leave.”

“She’s already gone, Ersie. What are ye sayin’?”

Ersie only chewed on her cheek as Mrs. Morrigan set her cup down, then rose to her feet with a groan. “Well, I’ll be off then. But if ye’ve got any sense left in that thick skull of yers, ye’ll go.”

Ciaran said nothing as the woman left the room.

His sister giggled quietly.

“Ye annoy me,” he gritted out, which only made her laugh harder.

“What are ye waitin’ for? Do ye want her or nae?”

“She told me to give her time!”

“Women dinnae need time, Braither. They need someone to make them forget about time altogether.”Ciaran’s eyes flashed up at her, but she had already walked away from him and out the door.

He sat in silence long after she left, his mind racing.