Page 21 of Married to the Icy Highlander
Arthur had been pestering him for information and details about his wedding night the entire ride down to the pub. He was still pressing him for details as if he had been alone last night and was in need of warm memories. But Neil was never one to spread such stories, least of all about his wife.
“I dinnae ken why ye wouldnae want to rehash it… unless ye have something to be embarrassed about?” Arthur prodded.
“We didnae come here to gossip about bedroom sport, Arthur. We are here to look for information.”
Arthur sighed as if he were being deprived of his next meal. “And I dinnae ken when ye stopped bein’ fun.”
Neil side-eyed him. He didn’t even want to ask what it was that his friend meant because he was sure it wasn’t anything good. If Arthur was too hard up to have his own memories to dwell on, that was his problem.
Arthur grinned and leaned annoyingly close to him. “If ye could just pull the stick that’s lodged itself in yer arse, perhaps?—”
“Ye better nae finish that sentence,” Neil warned.
Arthur waved his hand dismissively but then dropped the subject. “Fine. How do ye ken that Blaine even wants to be found?”
Because Blaine clearly couldn’t make such a choice on his own. Whatever reason he had to run off in the middle of the night like some bandit, Neil was going to find out one way or another. If he had to drag his brother back here kicking and screaming in order to get some answers, he would do that too.
And if Blaine had gotten himself into some sort of trouble…
No, that wasn’t something Neil was willing to consider. It was safer to allow himself to stew in his anger instead of letting his worry for his brother fester and overwhelm him. He needed to keep a clear head, and fretting over possibilities wasn’t going to help him in the slightest.
As soon as he marched into the pub, the familiar music and smells wrapped around him. The other patrons in the pub turned to look at the pair of them and nodded their heads in respect as they moved to one of the tables in the back corner, where Neil’s informant was waiting for them. Arthur veered left to get each of them a pint.
There was only one body Neil was interested in seeing tonight.
He dropped heavily onto a chair, the wood creaking under his bulk as he shook the hand of the man across from him.
Alastair was a good enough man, but he operated under his own moral code. He was allowed on MacTristan lands because Neil gave his permission. They had a mutual understanding, in a way.
Alastair had a thinner and shorter frame, but he was fast. Neil believed that it was the man’s average features, dark hair, and bushy eyebrows that made people overlook him. All sorts of conversations took place in front of him without the speakers ever truly knowing that they were being overheard. How? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. It suited him just fine so long as the pair of them stayed on the same side.
“M’Laird.” Alastair nodded his head in deference, and Neil did the same in greeting.
“I thought I might find ye here,” Neil started. “Ye ken there’s a room for ye at the castle if ye ever need it.”
“Aye.” Alastair grinned. “Ye ken that I prefer sleepin’ outdoors. Dinnae care much for walls around me.”
He gestured to the walls of the pub with a shrug, hoping that Neil would just understand.
To some extent, Neil did. He never could turn off his battle mind, always looking for the exits and the parts of the room that were the most vulnerable should something happen out of the blue.
But he understood the preference of not wanting to feel trapped, confined. He did not doubt that Alastair had been behind bars at least a few times. But he would never ask him about that.
“To get straight to business,” Alastair started. “I dinnae ken where he is. I havenae heard anything.”
That wasn’t at all what Neil wanted to hear. “That cannae be possible.”
“But it is, I’m afraid,” Alastair sighed, leaning back into his chair. “I’ve kept me ear to the ground—and will keep doin’ it, of course. I ken that ye’re worried that he hasnae sent a letter yet…”
Neil rubbed a hand down his face and heaved a sigh. “Apparently, he did.”
Why did Ceana receive a letter and he didn’t? He didn’t like it at all. She reacted as if he had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe he should have read the letter instead of jumping to conclusions, but at the same time, whatever was in it hadn’t been meant for him and would have most likely sent him into a fit of rage.
If they were lovers, then she shouldn’t have lied to him. She had said that they would have a white marriage—loveless and convenient. So, what reason did Blaine have to run? It didn’t make any sense at all.
But then again, Neil had never seen Blaine take a lover after he had turned eighteen.
“Och?” Alastair murmured.
