Page 62 of Scot of Deception
Something didn’t sit right with Blaine. Something clawed at him, nagging him from the very depths of his gut. It was as if something was wrong, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but knew to be true.
It had to be his decision to leave like that, without fighting for Kathleen. That was what unsettled him, the thought that he could have done something to at least try and prevent the heartbreak that would follow and torment him for the rest of his life.
He had to go back to Castle Stalker and at least attempt to talk to her. He would never be able to live with himself if he gave up on their love so easily. Once, he had told himself he would fight for her, for them, no matter what it took, and now it was time for him to prove it.
He was in the middle of the woods when he decided to turn his horse around and head right back to Castle Stalker. Even if in the end, it turned out that Kathleen didn’t want to even see him, he had to try again. He had to give it his all or he would live with the regret for the rest of his life.
Pushing his horse to its limits, Blaine rushed through the country, the trees whizzing by in a blur of green. When he made it to the castle, though, what he found was not what he had left behind.
There was a tension in the air, thick enough to cut with a sword. The moment he stepped foot in the castle grounds, he was met with a sense of unease, and the first thing he noticed was that the soldiers were mobilizing.
Could it be that Clan Campbell had already attacked? There seemed to be no damage, no signs of battle and destruction. Perhaps the Campbells were much closer, though, and Laird Stewart was sending all his men out to defend the keep.
Blaine looked for a guard who knew him, and found a man to whom he had spoken before. He approached him, stepping in his way as the other rushed to gather weapons and hand them out to his fellow soldiers, and when the guard saw him, he gave him a look of surprise.
“Mr. Farquharson,” he said. “Ye’re back?”
“Aye,” said Blaine. “What’s wrong here? Did the Campbells make a move?”
“Och aye,” said the man. “Laird Stewart is sendin’ everyone out.”
“Why?”
“It’s Miss Mackintosh,” said the man, and Blaine’s blood ran cold, fear freezing him from the inside.
Kathleen? Did somethin’ happen tae Kathleen?
“Laird Stewart,” he demanded. “Where is he?”
“In his study, I think,” said the guard. “He asked that he nae be disturbed.”
Well, he’ll have tae be.
“Thank ye,” Blaine said and quickly spun on his heel, running inside the keep. No one tried to stop him. He must have looked like a mad man, dashing around the corridors like that, but if anyone thought it strange, they didn’t comment on it. After all, servants and soldiers alike were too busypreparing for battle, and no one batted an eye as he rushed past them and towards the laird’s study.
Once there, he didn’t bother knocking on the door. He only threw it open, much to the surprise of the people inside—the laird himself, Fenella, Bran, Ilyssa, and some members of the laird’s council. All of them turned to stare at him in shock as he clutched at the door handle, panting to catch his breath, his chest heaving with every gulp of air he took.
“What… what happened?” he asked. “Where is Kathleen?”
“Ye’re back?” Laird Stewart asked, half-standing from his chair.
“Kathleen,” Blaine insisted. Perhaps he appeared terribly rude to them all, but this was not the time for him to waste any moment exchanging pleasantries. “Tell me what happened tae her.”
“She left the castle,” Ilyssa said, stepping forward from where she had been standing near the window, gazing at the world outside. “I can only assume tae find ye. An’ a messenger brought this…”
As Ilyssa spoke, Laird Stewart passed a piece of paper to one of the councilmembers, who in turn, passed it to Blaine. Itwas a short, succinct message; nothing more than a request for gold in exchange for Kathleen’s life, signed and sealed by Laird Campbell himself.
“How dae we ken this is real?” Blaine asked. “How dae we ken he has her?”
“Well, she’s nae here,” Bran said through gritted teeth. For a moment, he sat in the same armchair Blaine had occupied earlier that day, still and silent, but then he slammed his hand down on the desk, sending every item on the surface rattling—and everyone in the room jumping with surprise. He pushed himself off the chair and stomped over to Blaine, who said nothing but stood firm, meeting the man’s gaze with as much defiance as he could muster. “It’s all yer fault. If it hadnae been fer ye, naething would have happened!”
“Bran, calm yerself,” Ilyssa said, approaching her husband to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Ye ken how Kathleen is. If she puts her mind tae somethin’…”
“If it wasnae fer him, she wouldnae have left like this!” Bran pointed out, and Blaine couldn’t even disagree with that. He had played a big part in this, that much was true. He had been the cause of all her distress, and he had very likely been the reason why she had left the castle in the first place. Had he stayed, had he tried harder to connect with her, then she wouldn’t have fallen into Campbell hands. “An’ now he’s back! Why are ye back? What are ye daein’ here?”
Blaine didn’t know if it was wise to admit the truth—that he was back to speak to Kathleen and attempt a reconciliation. And yet, he did so anyway.
“I’m here fer Kathleen,” he said calmly, holding his head high. “I wish tae see her.”
