Page 5 of Utterly Dauntless (Return to Culloden Moor #3)

CHAPTER FIVE

T he rainclouds finally stopped trying to get Grey's attention and moved off. They left a sheen on the cobbled streets that reflected the yellow glow of streetlamps as he navigated the narrow lanes up to Peg's house. He relished the scent of peat and woodsmoke that hung heavy in the air and assured him he was home.

A dull ache pulsed behind his eyes, but he ignored it like he ignored the rain.

Minutes later, his knuckles rapped against a familiar green door. He'd knocked there countless times before—after that first betrayal, then again when Italy nearly destroyed him, and dozens of times between. Now here he stood again, his heart battered and loupin', but still undaunted.

Peg opened the door and gave him her usual resigned smile. "I wondered when ye'd get here." She stepped back to let him in. "Though usually ye dinnae come so late."

The kitchen welcomed him with its perpetual scents of wood smoke and drying herbs. Peg's cottage had been a sanctuary for him these past years. Tonight, however, the usually cozy room felt charged with possibility.

Bundles of rosemary and thyme hung from the rafters, casting strange shadows in the lamplight. The old stone hearth glowed with banked coals, and the kettle steamed gently on its hook. So many memories lived in this room. He and Aries had spent countless evenings here in those two auspicious, precious years listening to Peg's stories, sharing tea and scones, falling deeper in love.

While he searched for an outlet to plug in his dead phone, he noticed signs of decline that worried him. Cobwebs gathered in corners that the aging woman could no longer reach. Only one cup remained of her prized china set. He'd have to find a way to replace them without wounding her pride.

"Sit," Peg ordered, gesturing to his usual chair. The pink cushion was worn thin from years of Highland backsides. She poured tea into mismatched cups, her hands trembling slightly. "I expect ye already ken she was here."

Grey's fingers tightened around the hot ceramic. "When?"

"This mornin'." Peg settled into her chair with a soft grunt. "And before ye ask, aye, I could have called ye. But she needed to speak with me." Her eyes held his steadily. "And I needed to speak with her."

"No matter. She'd sent me chasing geese in Brighton. Did she tell ye anything helpful, say why she runs?"

"Nay. Says she doesnae ken it herself."

The familiar rage and helplessness rose in his chest. He set the cup down carefully, though he wanted nothing more than to send it flying across the room to shatter in the fire. "I dinnae believe that."

"Neither do I." Peg's shoulders drooped. "Grey, love. Perhaps it's time to let her go. Find someone worthy of ye."

"I cannae."

"Ye can. And ye should."

He stood and paced to the window to stare out into the dark that was, even at that moment, hiding his wife from him. How many times had he watched Aries tinkering in that garden? How many times had he kissed her on those stepping stones between the heather and rosemary?

Finally, he was able to blink those images away. "Ye dinnae understand."

"Then help me understand." Peg's voice cracked. "What keeps ye chasin' after someone who clearly doesnae want to be with ye?"

He turned back, caught by the pain in her voice, realizing it hurt her to speak those words as much as it pained him to hear them spoken aloud. "That's just it. When I found her in Italy..." The memory squeezed his heart. "I was blind then. Thought the emotion in her eyes was love. But now I believe it was fear."

Peg's hand rose to her throat. "Fear? Of what?"

"I dinnae ken. But something haunts her. And I cannae just leave her out there alone with it."

"Ye think she's in danger then?"

"Aye. From what, I cannae say. Perhaps herself. But she needs help whether she kens it or no. And I'll see that she has it."

Peg stared at him for a long moment, conflict clear on her face. Finally, she pushed up from her chair with effort that made his heart ache. She went to a cupboard and pulled down a small tin. From inside, she extracted a folded slip of paper.

"I shouldnae do this." Her voice wavered. "She'll never forgive me. But if ye're right..." She held out the paper. "If my granddaughter truly needs help..."

Grey took it carefully. An address in Belgium was written in Peg's shaky hand.

"That's where my letters start," she explained. "I dinnae ken who gets them or where they go after, but that's how I reach her." She gripped his wrist with surprising strength. "If ye do find her, please dinnae tell her?—"

"I won't. I promise." He tucked the paper into his shirt pocket where it lay over the new hope growing in his chest. This was the first real lead since one of The 79 had spotted Aries in Italy.

"Ye're a good man, Grey Strachan." Peg patted his hand. "Better than she deserves, and we all ken it."

"Dinnae say that." He caught her hands in his. "Whatever drives her, she suffers for it." He smiled sadly. "Remember how I was when I came to ye that first time? When she left without a word?"

"Aye. Ye were angry then. Ready to tear the world apart."

"And the second time, after Italy..."

"Ye were shattered." She squeezed his hands. "I feared for ye then."

"But now I think I understand. The first time she left, it was to protect what was left of her family. Perhaps she does the same now, to protect we two." He swallowed hard. "And that's why I cannot stop."

"Just...be careful, love." Peg's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "And bring her home safe. And soon."

Grey bent and kissed the delicate wrinkles of her cheek. "I'm sending someone 'round tomorrow with the shoppin'. And some wood and peat. And it looks like ye could use a new cup or two."

"Nonsense. Some things were never meant to be replaced."

"Aye, well. Ye'll bite yer tongue and take what ye're given. Anythin' else ye need?"

She shook her head.

At the door, he paused and looked back. Peg stood in her kitchen, small and frail and all forlorn. The years had taken their toll on her as well. Bring her home safe—and soon...

He stepped out into the Highland night feeling a renewed sense of urgency. He and Aries might have the rest of their lives in which to play cat and mouse, but Peg didn't have that luxury.