Page 23 of The Mad Highlander
23
C ayden sat in the chair in his room. The door was slightly ajar so she would not be woken when he left. The candles and lamps had been extinguished, but there was enough light from the moonlight filtering in through the open window to show Iris’ form beneath the blankets and her creamy face.
Ye look like an angel sleepin’ there.
Cayden felt undeserving of such beauty. She was peaceful as she slept, and his eyes traced every single inch of her face, so he could conjure her in his mind as he rode through the night. He leaned forward and brushed some of the hair from her face, placing it behind her ear. She murmured in her sleep but did not wake.
He had never felt this way about anyone else. When he had brought her back to the castle, her beauty was obvious. He had also enjoyed her feistiness. A part of him knew that love often came after a couple were married, but he was not that type of man. He would protect her as he did with his Clan, but he could not love her. He deeply enjoyed her company, but stronger feelings were dangerous feelings.
“Ye have a splendid beauty,” Cayden whispered.
He leaned close again and kissed her cheek. He was glad she had fallen asleep—it would make it much easier to slip out without having to say goodbye. He was not sure if her heart could take it. It might delay him, and he would rather make a quick exit so he could get down to business.
Cayden would handfast her on his return with her brother—that was the bargain. He knew she was a woman he would be happy to have by his side, but it might not be possible for a while—Iris would be frustrated by the delay, but he was sure she would understand. Rescuing Ashton was only the beginning. War was coming whether they liked it or not, and they had to prepare for that. He might die in battle, and he would rather they were not handfasted if that were to happen; it would create too many complications.
The Laird leaned forward again and gently kissed Iris on the lips. Again, she murmured something but did not wake. Her lips were pale pink, small but plump. Her nose was delicate, like a button on a jacket, and her eyes were the color of the leaves at the start of spring—when they were open.
He stroked her cheek gently, wanting to crawl into bed with her and embrace her. His worries would be taken, but only for a while. He could forget them but could not stop them from coming to his door and breaking it down.
A shadow darker than the ones already in the hallway appeared on the other side of the door. Cayden looked toward the slight opening and nodded. The shadow disappeared.
Cayden kissed Iris one more time, another gentle peck on the lips, and he lingered close to her, taking in her scent again. He would remember that on his travels, too. Iris had taken to rubbing the petals of wildflowers on her neck and wrists, and she had given him a container of the same flowers as a memento. He could close his eyes and inhale, and he would be with her for a moment.
There was no time to waste, and the Laird drew himself away from the woman he would wed. He slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him, placing his hand against the wood.
“Sleep well. I shall return to ye soon,” he whispered.
Cayden crept away from the room and then stepped less lightly when he reached the stairs. The night outside was black—everyone in the castle would be asleep. It was a surprise then when he saw his mother down at the stables with his six men.
“Maither, what are ye doin’ here?” he asked. “Ye should be sleepin’.”
“I can sleep when ye return home safely. I wasnae able to sleep tonight, and I’ll nae be able to sleep any other night until me son comes back to me. I’ve already lost one lad, and I dinnae want to lose another. I cannae.”
“I ken, Maither. I’m travelin’ with me best men, and Murdoch willnae ken we are comin’.”
“Aye, that may be, but ye still need to be careful,” Margot told him. “Laird Murdoch is as ruthless and cunning as they come. Ye say ye are nae walkin’ into a trap, but I want ye to promise me ye will act as ye are. When ye get to his castle, believe everythin’ is a trap.”
“I will,” Cayden said.
“And if ye run into trouble, ye deal with it, Cayden Hart. I dinnae care what ye do in that castle—ye get out with yer head, all right?”
“Aye.” Cayden breathed out through his nose.
“Come here,” his mother demanded.
Cayden took his mother in his arms, and she felt old and frail. His father had done a lot of that to her, and time had finished the job. She still had a lot of life ahead of her, but she was not the woman she once was.
“I love ye,” Margot whispered to her son.
“I love ye, too.”
“I ken I have been hard on ye at times, but I’ve only wanted the best. Yer faither might have thought of ye as a spare to yer brother, but I never thought that. Ye were a braw bairn, and ye have turned into a fine young man. Ye have the rest of yer life to live, and I really do want grandchildren. Ye are to come back and give that to me.”
“I will.” Cayden kissed his mother on the cheek. “Go to bed and try to get some rest. Go on.”
When the embrace ended, Margot nodded and walked back into the keep. Cayden watched her walk through the arch and disappear into the darkness. He gave it a minute before he turned to face his men.
“There’s still time to back out if ye dinnae want to come. I would understand completely. We are goin’ into the heart of enemy land, and if one of us falls, all of us fall. Either we all get out of there alive, or we all die inside. What say ye?”
The men looked at each other as if it was unthinkable they would even consider it. When one of them folded their arms over their chest, the other five followed suit.
“Guid,” the Laird growled. “Are all the provisions packed?”
“Aye,” Brodgar replied. “Enough to get us there and back.”
“Guid.” Cayden took a minute to check all the horses. They were traveling as light as possible. Each man had a shortsword and dirk on their belt. The packs on each horse contained a blanket, candle, and tinder box, and enough bread and dried meat for four days of riding. The only problem was ensuring’ enough food for the horses, but they would work it out on the way. There was always something for them to eat and drink.
Cayden patted his horse before he looked at his men and nodded. The seven of them mounted the animals together, and the Laird led the way out of the castle.
He did not ride fast. He ached to get to the castle as quickly as possible, but they would wear out the horses before then. They moved at a moderate pace and quickened or slowed so they would arrive at the time he had informed Hunter.
The seven men rode through the first night and well into the second evening, stopping to rest the horses occasionally and to fill the waterskins. Wherever they found water, the horses drank thirstily. They camped under the stars on the first night in Scallig Forest. They heard wolves howling through the night, but a fire in the middle of their camp kept them at bay.
The second day took them around Loch Oben. It provided a good place to stop and eat. They not only had their fill of water, but they dipped their heads in to refresh. It was late on the second full day of riding that they arrived in the Cumberland Woods.
When Cayden stopped, the other men followed. The woods were not expansive, making them too small to be hunting grounds. The seven men tied their horses to trees and took a final drink of water. Cayden moved around the men, silently patting them on the shoulders. There was no need for talk, and they didn’t want to risk anyone venturing close to the woods and hearing them.
When everyone had drank, Cayden gestured for them to follow. They moved through the trees in one line, stepping lightly even though they did not have to. The trees started to thin, but the clouds above still gave them ample cover. Cayden stopped behind one of the thicker trees, and he looked into the distance.
If it were not for the three squares of light, he might think they were looking at the night sky. There would be some still awake but not many. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the darkness that was tall in the sky.
There was no time for rest. They had reached Murdoch Castle, and they would infiltrate it that night. The only hope was that they would emerge with Ashton Whyte and disappear into the darkness.