Chapter 20
"This is quite the turn out. I've got to hand it to yer wife; she has certainly out done herself on this event," Ryan said as Aaron scanned the crowd.
Pride flowed out of him as if he were a pitcher of spring water being poured out.
His smile stretched as Aaron hunted for his wife in the crowd.
His chest tightened as he searched each face that passed by him with hope that she'd return.
"And where is she by the way? Chloe is lookin' for her and sent me yer way to find her," Ryan continued as a pain in Aaron's chest pricked him. The nagging in his gut refused to relent as he turned around, checking the castle for signs of Izzy.
"She went inside to fetch a wrap for her shoulders," Aaron answered as concern laced his tone. His attention shot to the top window of the castle, and methodically, he glanced at each window in hopes of catching a glimpse of her. "But she should have been back by now."
"Unless she ran into Marge," Ryan stated.
"She wanted to ken if we needed more pies baked.
I told her there is always a need for more pie, but she would only make it if the Lady gave her instruction.
Cannae blame her for bein' suspicious of me.
I have been smellin' the blueberry ones all mornin' and want to sink me teeth into one. "
Aaron's chest tightened as if it had been snared in a trap. He pulled in a long deep breath as the hair on the back of his neck tingled. Something wasn't right. The prickly sensation vibrated from the top of his head to his toes and back again.
"How many men do ye have in the castle?" Aaron asked, directing his question to Ryan.
"There's ten roamin' the halls inside, and I've got another five coverin' the courtyard to the wall," Ryan answered as his hand flew to the hilt of his dirk.
"Somethin' doesnae feel right," Aaron mumbled as he turned his attention once again to the empty windows. Without another word, Aaron darted for the side door. He pushed into the dimly lit kitchen and peered into the storage rooms as he passed by them.
"Laird McNeil," Marge gasped with eyes as wide as saucers. "Dinnae expect ye to show up here."
Aaron arched his eyebrow as he craned his neck to spy around the round, stout woman before him. Although there was no indication Marge would ever betray him, his worry for Izzy intensified his suspicions.
"I'm lookin' for Lady McNeil. Has she come through this way?" Aaron asked as he noticed a dark figure in the corner of the storage room Marge was blocking. With a flick of his wrist, Aaron pulled his dirk from its sheath and directed the blade to the cook's throat.
"Laird McNeil?" Marge whimpered as terror ripped away all her wit and reason. "Please. If this is about the pies, I'll make them now. I just thought we had done enough."
"If ye value this woman's life, ye best step out of the shadows now," Aaron demanded as his eyes remained locked on the dark shadowy figure in the storage room. The shadow shifted and turned to face Aaron.
"All right, all right, there's nay need to be up in arms," a husky voice answered. Aaron's ears perked at the familiarity of the man's voice.
"Douglas?" Aaron asked as confusion pricked the back of his mind. The elderly man hobbled from out of the corner with a bashful grin that stretched from ear to ear. "What… ye ken, never mind. 'Tis nae worth me sanity. Just tell me where Izzy is."
"I havenae seen the lady, me laird," Douglas answered with absolute confidence that left no doubt in Aaron's mind. But it wasn't exactly the answer Aaron had hoped for. His worry for his wife stretched as he stepped back and placed his dirk back in his sheath.
"She came in here nae too long ago. Dinnaee say anythin', just passed through rubbin' her arms. Figure she was huntin' for a shawl or somethin', so I dinnae pay her any heed."
Aaron nodded as the pressure in his chest eased a bit. It wasn't enough to make him abandon his purpose, but it felt good to hear someone had seen her recently.
"Can ye tell me if she was headin' to the east or west side of the castle?" Aaron asked as he started for the doorway.
"She made a left," Marge answered, and so, Aaron went left.
He rushed down the corridor, straining his ears for any sounds other than his boots echoed through the empty hall.
Each room he passed, he found himself peering in to check for Izzy.
And with each room empty and abandoned, the worry Aaron was fighting to keep at bay was in fact strangling him like a noose.
His steps quickened as he charged up the stairs for her chambers.
Unable to shake the doubt clawing at him, he pushed into his room and scanned the bed, chairs, and balcony doors.
The room was still and undisturbed, giving the impression no one had been in it for hours.
Pursing his lips into a tight line, Aaron made a beeline for her old chambers, but as he pushed through the doors, an icy finger raked down his spine.
No one had been in the room for days. Even the hearth was cold from neglect.
"Where are ye?" Aaron grumbled to the empty room.
He pulled in a deep breath trying to steady his frayed nerves.
Stepping out of the room, he started for the stairs and his study.
As much as he wanted to believe that it was merely a matter of passing ships in the night, Aaron couldn't shake the feeling that Izzy wasn't in the castle.
"She wouldnae have just left…" Aaron mumbled to himself as he started tracking the castle for clues to where she could be. Charging through the hallway, Aaron tried to keep his wits about him. There was no way she would run, not when she was trying so hard to make Scotland her home.
Doubt pricked him as he scrambled down the steps. He paused in the middle of the staircase and glanced over the railing. His heart dropped the second he recognized Izzy's floral smock in the nook of the steps.
"Izzy," Aaron gulped and rushed to retrieve the garment.
Aaron's chest tightened as he drew the garment to his nose and took in a long deep breath.
The smock smelled like summer and sunshine.
It pained Aaron to think about what could have happened to his wife, but it donned on him that his biggest fears had come to pass.
The absence Aaron felt in the castle, the discarded garment at the bottom of the steps, it all pointed to one thing.
"Ryan! To arms. I want every able man at me disposal now," Aaron barked as he charged for the garden area. His heart pounded fiercely as he made it to the petting pen. The children's happy faces mocked Aaron as he rushed past them trying to find Ryan in the crowd.
"Me Laird?"
Aaron turned to find Ryan behind him, the concern on his face was palpable. Aaron's chest tightened as he stepped closer, hoping to keep the urgency under control. The last thing Aaron wanted to do was frighten the children he had worked so hard in showing he was a nice guy.
"Izzy is gone."
"What do ye mean gone?" Ryan asked. "I've got men all over this place. Someone would have seen her leavin'."
"Nae if she was taken against her will," Aaron said showing Ryan Izzy's smock. "I found this at the bottom of the stairs."
"She's been taken?"
"Aye," Aaron answered as his attention shifted to the crowd of people around them. Guilt pounded against him like an ax against a trunk.
"Do ye ken where?" Ryan asked as Aaron watched Ryan scan the crowd.
Shaking his head, Aaron wished he had something he could go off of, but the only clue he had was Izzy's fallen smock.
Running his fingers through his hair, Aaron contemplated his next move.
If he hunted for Izzy outside the castle, there was a high chance she was still here.
But if he stayed to look, she could have been taken outside. The decision drove him mad.
"Nay," Aaron answered as he shook his head. Defeat threatened to drive him to his study, but out of the corner of his eye, Aaron noticed a dark spot in the tree line. It was as if a shadow had jumped into another shadow. Curiosity struck him like a baton over the head.
"What?" Ryan asked. Aaron's gaze remained locked to the darkness of the trees and moved slowly through the crowd of children.
"Do ye see, just there, through the shrubs?" Aaron asked, his chest tightening. Was it Izzy? He wasn't sure. He didn't want to be a fool. If he bolted through the crowd and caused a scene only to have it some woodland creature, then he'd have the clan questioning more than just his sanity.
"Aye, but it's nothin'. A fox, or maybe wolf comin' to see what the smell is," Ryan said.
"I'm goin' to get a closer look. Have archers on the wall at the ready," Aaron ordered as he started for the tree line.
Each step felt as if he were trekking through the bog.
He moved slowly but deliberately, refusing to draw too much attention to himself.
At the edge of the party, Aaron paused and turned an ear to the grove of trees.
Holding his breath, he strained his ears and listened.
Over the shrill of the children's laughter, Aaron heard it. The cry was faint and muffled, but he had heard it. Whipping his head to the trees, he hunted for signs of entry. A row of snapped twigs cut a clear path for any experienced tracker. A deadly smirk pulled at the corners of Aaron's lips.
"Let go of me. My husband will kill you for this."
"Izzy?!" Aaron called to the grove.
"Aaron!"
Hope shot through him, giving him the drive and direction he needed.
Like an arrow shot from a bow, he raced to the grove of trees, letting go of all inhibition.
Izzy needed him, and he didn't care what others thought of him; they weren't important.
The only person that mattered was her. She saw him as a man when others only looked at him as a monster.
Guilt fueled his ire. It brewed and festered like an open wound.
Aaron pulled his dirk and checked his grip, ensuring the blade had become a part of his arm.
All his years of experience and training surfaced and pushed aside his irrational state.
Izzy's life was on the line because of him.
He had married her knowing that she'd eventually become a target by his enemies.
"Let me go you fiend."
"Best do as she says, or I swear, when I catch ye, I'll see ye skewered to the end of me blade."