A Love Unveiled

Chapter Twenty-Five

            Sweeping a hand through his tangled mane, he started for the door and found a sleeping Ivan by his door.

            “Ivan!” he growled, and realized his mistake as the ache in his head grew to a fierce throbbing.

Ivan hastened to his feet and struggled to conceal his knowing smirk.

Catching a hint of his man’s grin, Fallon said through clenched teeth, “I am in a foul mood to hear any of your jesting, so refrain from your quips and tell me why you are sitting at my door?”

“You asked me too.” Ivan replied his voice laced with that casual sarcasm.

Fallon raised a golden brow, “What?”

            Ivan struggled to keep from laughing, “It seems that your betrothed is quite taken with you and last night after a few, well many pitchers of mead, you were quite besotted with your wife-to-be.” He fell silent, letting Fallon’s muddled mind absorb the words, “-well you wooing the lass-”

“Enough!” Fallon shouted, throwing up his hand, not wanting to hear anymore. Clearly he was far too drunk last night to even tell the difference from his bride-to-be to the woman that plagued his groin.

“Milord!” shouted Gavin as he came around the corner to where he and Ivan stood.

            He resisted another groan as he cast a dark glare on the man. “What is it?” he snapped.

            “The servant, Nettie, she has gone missing.”

            Suddenly, the fogginess in his head began to clear. He straightened, realizing he had not seen Alana at all the previous day. “The woman was not in the hall last night?”

            Both Ivan and Gavin shared a glance, “Nay, milord.”

            Mumbling a stream of curses under his breath, Fallon shoved the two men aside and stalked down the hall. With each step, his anger intensified along with a slight inkling of dread.

            This time, he did not knock, but instead, broke through the door to find her room empty and her bed untouched.

            “Dammit!” he spun around and met his men in the hall. “Saddle the horses!”

            Alana felt her blood run cold as alarm crept through her limbs as one by one, all three men dismounted, each casting the other a sideways glance and curved sneers, turning her fear to dread.

            “You bonny chits lost?” the man in the middle was the first to speak. He was the tallest of the three and perhaps the most disturbing to look at.