Chapter 18
Francesca's heart slammed against her ribs as she ran down the corridor, Declan's footsteps pounding behind her. The stone floor was cold beneath her bare feet, but she barely noticed.
"Eloise!" She burst into the child's chamber, her eyes frantically scanning the room.
The bed was empty, covers thrown back as if Eloise had risen in a hurry. Bluebell's basket sat undisturbed in the corner, the rabbit sleeping peacefully. Both kittens were curled on the windowsill. But no Eloise.
"She's not here." Francesca's voice cracked as Declan entered behind her, already half-dressed, his shirt unlaced. "Declan, she's not here!"
He moved past her, checking under the bed, behind the heavy curtains, anywhere a child might hide. "Eloise! Lass, if ye're hidin', now's nae the time for games!"
Silence.
Betsy hovered in the doorway, wringing her hands.
"I came to check on her before retirin' for the night, me Laird. Found her bed empty, just like this. “When did anyone last see her?” Declan’s voice cut through the growing chaos in the great hall, sharp and commanding. He’d been in his study when word reached him, and now, he stood at the center of the room like a general preparing for battle.
“Last night, Me Laird,” Betsy said, wringing her hands.
“I tucked her in meself with all her wee beasties. She was fast asleep.”Francesca's mind raced.
"Her nightdress." She moved to the small trunk where Eloise's clothes were kept, rifling through it.
"It's still here. She got dressed. She left on her own. "
"Or someone took her after she'd risen." Declan's jaw tightened, his grey eyes going hard as granite. "Betsy, wake Fraser and Duncan. Have them gather the men. I want every room in this castle searched. Every chamber, every storage room, every corner."
"Aye, me Laird!" Betsy fled.
Francesca stood frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the empty bed. Her breath hitched. "What if someone—"
"Nay." Declan gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Daenae think that. Not yet. She could be anywhere in the castle. The kitchens. The stables. Ye ken how she wanders."
"In the middle of the night? Without telling anyone?" Francesca shook her head. "Something's wrong. I can feel it."
A commotion in the corridor announced Fraser's arrival, already armed, his face grim. "The men are gatherin' in the great hall. What do ye need, cousin?"
"Search parties. Every building on the grounds. The gardens, the stables, the chapel." Declan's voice rang with absolute authority. "No one rests until we find her."
"Aye." Fraser's eyes flicked to Francesca, softening briefly. "We'll find her, me Lady. I swear it."
As Fraser left to organize the search, more servants appeared—Duncan, Krista, others whose faces blurred together in Francesca's panic. They scattered at Declan's commands, taking torches and lanterns, calling Eloise's name.
“Search every room,” Declan commanded, his voice ringing with absolute authority. “Every chamber, every storage room, every corner of this castle. Now.”
The staff scattered immediately, responding to the steel in their laird’s tone. Declan turned to Duncan.
“Send riders to the village. Question everyone. I want to ken if anyone’s seen her, if any strangers have been spotted in the area.” His grey eyes were hard as granite. “And send word to the neighborin’ clans. If someone’s taken her off MacGhee lands, I need to ken where.”
“Aye, Me Laird.”
Francesca stood frozen in the center of the chaos, her mind refusing to accept what was happening. Eloise was missing. Her daughter—because that’s what Eloise was, blood or not—was somewhere she couldn’t find her, couldn’t protect her.
She moved to the window, staring out at the dark grounds. Somewhere out there, Eloise was alone. Frightened. Or worse—
“We’ll find her.” Declan’s hand settled on her shoulder, firm and grounding. “I swear to ye, we’ll find her.”
“What if something bad has happened to her?”
“Nay.” His grip tightened. “No what-ifs. Nae yet. Stay here while we search. If she’s in the castle, ye will see her.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Ye’ll stay here in case she returns. Someone needs to be here.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to stay behind like some useless ornament!” Her voice rose, sharp with fear and fury. “That’s my child out there!”
“Which is exactly why ye need to think clearly. Let me do this.”
“Me Laird!” A young stable hand burst through the door, his face pale. “We found somethin’ in the courtyard.”
They followed him outside, where a piece of parchment had been weighted down with a stone. Declan snatched it up, his expression darkening with each word he read.
“What does it say?” Francesca demanded. “Declan, what does it say?”
He handed it to her without speaking, and the words swam before her eyes.
If you want the child returned unharmed, bring five hundred gold coins to the old kirk at sunset. Come alone. Any sign of guards or clan members, and the lass dies.
The parchment slipped from her nerveless fingers. “No. No, this can’t be.”
“Fraser!” Declan’s roar brought his cousin running. “Get every man we have. I want scouts on every road, every path leadin’ away from this castle. Someone took her, and they cannae have gone far.”
“Aye, but the note says to come alone.”
“I daenae give a damn what the note says.” Declan’s voice was deadly calm, more terrifying than any shout. “No one takes what’s mine and dictates terms. We find them. We bring Eloise home. And we make sure whoever did this regrets ever settin’ foot on MacGhee lands.”
The raw fury in his words, the absolute certainty of violence promised, should have frightened her. Instead, it steadied something inside Francesca’s chest.
“I’m coming with you,” she said again.
“Nay.”
“She’s my child.”
“Which is exactly why ye’re stayin’ here.” He rounded on her, his size and presence overwhelming. “I willnae have ye put in danger. I willnae have them take ye too.”
“You can’t make that decision for me!”
“I can, and I will.” He stepped closer, his grey eyes blazing. “Ye’ll stay in this castle where I ken ye’re safe, and ye’ll let me do what needs to be done. That’s nae a request, Francesca. That’s an order.”
“An order?” She laughed, the sound brittle and sharp. “You think you can order me to sit here while my daughter is out there, terrified and alone?”
“I think I’m the laird of this clan, and what I say goes.” His voice dropped lower, more dangerous. “And right now, I’m sayin’ ye stay behind these walls where nothin’ can touch ye. Do ye understand?”
“No! I don’t understand!” She shoved at his chest, knowing it wouldn’t move him but needing to push back against something. “How can you expect me to just wait here doing nothing while she’s… while she’s out there alone.”
Her voice broke, and suddenly his arms were around her, pulling her against his chest in a grip that was more restraint than comfort.
“Listen to me.” His voice was still hard, still commanding, but something had gentled in it. “I ken ye’re terrified. I ken ye want to tear apart the world to find her. But ye runnin’ into danger willnae help Eloise. It’ll only give them another hostage.”
“I can’t just sit here.”
“Ye can, and ye will. Because I’m tellin’ ye to trust me.” He pulled back enough to tilt her face up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Trust me to bring her home. Trust me to keep ye both safe. Can ye do that?”
She wanted to scream no. Wanted to fight him, to demand he let her help, to do anything but stand helplessly by. But the absolute certainty in his eyes, the way his hands held her like she was precious and breakable and his to protect, cracked something open inside her.
“If anything happens to her, I’ll not forgive myself.”
“Nothin’ will happen to her.” It wasn’t a promise. It was a vow, delivered with the full weight of his authority behind it. “I swear it on me life, on me clan, on everythin’ I am. I will bring Eloise home.”
He released her and turned to Fraser, his entire demeanor shifting back to the ruthless commander. “Gather the men. I want our best trackers, our fastest riders. We move in ten minutes.”
“The note said to come alone.”
“I daenae care what the damned note says.” Declan’s voice could have cut stone. “These bastards took a child from me home, from under me protection. They’ll learn what that mistake costs.”
“Aye, cousin.” Fraser’s expression was grim. “What about Lady Gretchen?”
“Send for her.” Declan glanced back at Francesca. “She’ll stay with ye until we return.”
Then he was striding away, barking orders that sent men running in every direction. Francesca stood in the courtyard, watching him organize the search with ruthless efficiency, and felt utterly helpless.
“Come, Me Lady.” Betsy appeared at her elbow, gently guiding her back toward the castle. “Let’s get ye inside. I’ll send for yer aunt right away.”
“I should be out there searching.”
“The Laird is right, though it pains me to say it. Ye’re safer here.” Betsy’s voice was gentle but firm. “And if those villains are watchin’, they’ll expect to see ye here, distraught and waitin’. That’s what will keep them from suspectin’ the Laird has every man in the clan trackin’ them.”
Francesca let herself be led inside, each step away from the courtyard, feeling like betrayal. They settled her in the morning room, where Krista appeared with tea that Francesca couldn’t bring herself to drink.
“She’ll be all right, Me Lady,” Krista said softly. “The Laird will find her. He always protects what’s his.”
“But what if he doesn’t find her in time? What if they,” Her voice cracked. “What if I brought her all this way just to lose her?”
“Ye didnae lose her. Someone took her.” Krista knelt beside her chair. “That’s nae yer fault.”
“Isn’t it?” The words burst out, raw and aching. “I thought Scotland would be safer than London. I thought bringing her here, away from the gossip and the scandal, would protect her. But I was wrong. I failed her.”
“Ye protected her from yer father’s coldness and London’s cruelty,” Betsy said firmly. “Ye gave her a home and love.”
“And put her in danger!” Francesca stood abruptly, pacing to the window. “If I’d left her with my aunt from the beginning, if I’d never taken her as my own, she’d be safe right now.”
“She’d also be miserable and unloved.” Krista moved to stand beside her. “Ye gave that child somethin’ precious, a mother who would fight for her. That’s nae nothin’, Me Lady.”
Through the window, Francesca could see Declan mounting his stallion, his movements sharp and controlled. Even from this distance, the fury radiating from him was palpable. He said something to Fraser that made his cousin nod grimly, then the group of riders wheeled their horses toward the gates.
“He’ll find her,” Betsy said quietly. “I’ve never seen the Laird like this, so coldly furious. Whoever took the wee lass will wish they’d never been born.”
Francesca pressed her hand to the glass, watching until Declan and his men disappeared beyond the castle walls. “He loves the little girl.”
“What’s that, Me Lady?”
“When he was organizing the search. He said, ‘No one takes what’s mine.’ He meant Eloise.” The realization made her throat tight. “When did that happen? When did he learn to love her?”
“The same way ye did, I’d wager,” Krista said with surprising gentleness. “The Laird doesnae give his heart easily, but when he does, it’s fierce and complete. He’ll move heaven and earth to bring that child home.”
“And if he can’t?”
Neither maid answered because there was no comfort in false promises.
Time crawled by with agonizing slowness. Lady Gretchen arrived within the hour, taking one look at Francesca’s pale face before pulling her into a fierce hug.
“They’ll find her,” her aunt said with absolute certainty. “That laird of yours is not a man who fails.” Lady Gretchen guided her to a chair. “Now, tell me everything. When was she last seen? What did the note say? Has Declan formed a plan?”
Francesca recounted what little she knew, her voice mechanical as she forced the words past numb lips. Lady Gretchen listened intently, her sharp eyes missing nothing.
“Ransom,” she said finally. “That’s something at least. They want money, not to harm her.”
“They threatened to kill her if Declan doesn’t come alone.”
“Which is precisely why he’ll bring half the clan with him, I’d imagine. Your laird doesn’t strike me as a man who follows orders from kidnappers.” Lady Gretchen patted her hand. “He’ll outsmart them. Wait and see.”
But waiting was torture. Every minute that passed was another minute Eloise spent terrified and alone. Another minute where anything could go wrong. Another minute, Francesca couldn’t protect her.
“I should have checked on her earlier,” she whispered. “I should have looked in on her when I woke instead of assuming she was sleeping late.”
“And if you had, you might have been taken too,” Lady Gretchen said sharply. “Then where would we be? Stop torturing yourself with should-haves and focus on what comes next.”
“What comes next?”
“We wait. We trust. And we prepare to welcome that child home with all the love and comfort she’ll need after this ordeal.” Her aunt’s voice softened. “She’ll need ye to be strong, Francesca. Not broken by guilt that isn’t yours to carry.”
Francesca nodded, but the words rang hollow. Because the truth was simple and devastating: Eloise was gone, taken by someone who meant her harm, and Francesca was here—safe behind castle walls—while her child faced unknown dangers alone.
Please let Declan find her. Please bring her home safe.