Page 7 of Utterly Dauntless

"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."

"Thenhelpme 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 reachher." 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.

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