Chapter 12
W hen the door slammed in his face and Birdi, back rigid, disappeared into the night, Angus jumped to his feet. What had he done? Said? “Augh, women!”
He wrenched open the door, expecting to find Birdi standing before the croft, back to the door, arms folded across her chest, mouth in a firm line, as he’d seen Lady Beth pose whenever she was really annoyed with Duncan. Instead he found naught.
His own annoyance forgotten, he strode out and scanned the road for her. Nothing. No Birdi, just black and gray shadows that came and went under the light of a reiver’s moon. One—thanks to fast roaming clouds—that offered just enough light to see where one set a foot down, but not enough to be seen by.
Where the hell had she gone? He shivered as the wind kicked up off the loch, pictured what she wore, and cursed again.
She knew no one here save for Kelsea and her da… That’s it. She went to see Wee Angus. And she’ll, nay doubt, catch the flux in the process. He strode toward Fraser’s croft.
The trail of peat-rich smoke rising from the Fraser chimney, the warm light peeking out from behind closed shutters, eased his mind considerably. At least she was warm. He knocked.
Fraser answered. “MacDougall, come in. Come in. We were just talking about ye.” He smiled as the door swung wide.
Angus, feeling the idiot for worrying for no reason, stepped over the threshold. His gaze swept the room. Finding only Kelsea and the babe by the inglenook, his heart stuttered. He told himself to remain calm—that Birdi had to be close at hand but his hands began to sweat.
“Has Birdi come by?”
Fraser’s brow furrowed. “Nay. I’ve not seen her since I brought yer sup. Why?”
“My apologies for disturbing ye.”
Angus left a bemused Fraser and Kelsea in his wake and raced to the Boar’s Head Inn. He couldn’t imagine why she’d go there, but it was the only other place he could think of that she was even the least familiar with, would feel comfortable walking within given her limited sight.
Back hunched, he pushed through the first and second doors and came to an abrupt halt. The tavern room was still crowded with shouting and grumbling men, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and stale ale, but it held no Birdi. Cursing, he shouldered his way through the crowd, ignoring the men who hailed him, hoping she’d sought refuge—from what he still didn’t know—at the back of the room where the shadows were deepest.
No Birdi.
He’d run out of logical places to look, and the clan’s talk of the marauding Gunns did naught to relieve his anxiety.
Should he raise the alarm, send the men out looking? She’d pitch a hissy if she’d simply gone to relieve herself… Ah, that’s it. He blew out a breath. She’s not gone, but only relieving herself.
He turned to go and came nose to nose with Ian MacKay, an old friend and knight he hadn’t seen in years, not since they fought side by side in Burgundy.
Ian clapped a firm hand on Angus’s shoulder. “MacDougall, ye auld charger! What the hell are ye doin’ this far south?”
Angus grinned. Ian hadn’t aged a day. He was still as handsome as ever. “Looking for my ladywife. I seemed to have misplaced her.”
Ian laughed and heads turned. They always did. As big and brawn as Angus himself, Ian’s laugh sounded like thunder. “I had heard ye were on the hunt.”
Good God, did every soul in the realm know what he was about? “And what are ye doing here?” Angus asked. “Last I heard, ye were breaking virgin hearts in every alcove ye could find in Edinburgh Castle.”
“Aye, and in the attic as well, but unfortunately Albany tired of losing the competition for the fairest lasses, and sent me on this damn mission.”
“What mission?”
Ian threw an arm around Angus’s shoulder and leaned toward his ear. “Not here.”
Angus nodded. Politics and intrigue were Ian’s bread and butter. The dirtier the better, and the less said in public the better, as well. When Ian tried to guide him to a far corner, Angus remained rooted. “I’m sorry, Ian, but now isna the time. I have to find Birdi.”
“Birdi, huh?” Deep dimples slowly formed on either side of the scoundrel’s mouth as he studied Angus’s visage. “I’ll come with ye then. I need meet her.”
As they stepped into the chilled night, Ian said, “Start at the beginning. How did ye come by this lass?”
Knowing Ian was discreet if naught else and needing a sane head to fathom what he no longer could, Angus muttered, “This insanity all started with a wager. I was…