Chapter Twelve #3
He scanned the grounds, his gaze centering on Winnie's cottage in the distance.
He started to turn from the deserted-looking building when the door opened and a woman stepped out.
Marcus studied the figure as she hurried down the single step onto the ground and started in the direction of the castle.
He followed her progress until he discerned Mary's features, then turned from the wall.
Perhaps she knew something of Elise's whereabouts.
A moment later, he pushed through the postern door and strode through the eating hall to the kitchen.
Mary appeared in the kitchen's back door as he entered.
“Have you seen Elise?” he demanded without preamble.
The girl paused in the doorway. “N-Nae, laird.”
Marcus surveyed the women in the room, all of whom had stopped their work and were looking at him. “No one here knows where Winnie is?”
A general “Nae” went up and he turned from the kitchen. Where the bloody hell was Elise? And as for Winnie…
A cursory investigation of the castle turned up no sign of Elise. Only three weeks earlier he had been searching for her in much the same manner.
Her absence then was innocent enough. Yet the number of times she had gone to Michael's against his express command, combined with last month's disappearance, unsettled him.
Two hours later, after a more thorough search, including the dungeons, Marcus stalked toward Winnie's cottage. The secret passageway had become his nemesis. At every turn, he feared Elise had somehow managed to escape through it, despite the fact he'd had it sealed from the outside.
He found Winnie's cottage empty. Marcus worked his way through the keep, his temper rising with every step.
At last, he reached Lauren's home. Aye, she'd seen Elise, only that had been over an hour ago.
He strode from her cottage, across the compound, and into the kitchen.
Winnie, this time, sat at the table, plucking a chicken, just as she should have been.
“So, milady,” he said, bringing her attention to him, along with that of the other women in the room, “you have returned to the roost.”
Winnie looked up from yanking tail feathers from her victim's rump.
“Have you seen Elise?”
Comprehension shone on her face.
“Don't play games with me, Winnie,” he warned. “You have seen Elise. I can see it in your eyes.”
“No need to get testy.” She turned to her chicken. “Try the women's drawing room.”
Another five minutes and Marcus shoved open the drawing room door. The women jumped as the door hit the wall with a bang. He swept his gaze across the room before settling dangerously on Elise, who sat on the large couch against the left wall. No one moved as he strode toward her.
“Good Lord, what in the world is wrong?” she blurted when he halted in front of her.
With a jerk of his head, Marcus cleared the room. The door closed with a soft click and he demanded, “Where have you been?”
She blinked. “I-I have just come from Lauren's—”
“Not just come. You left there over an hour ago.”
“What have I done now?” she retorted in the same dark tone he'd used.
“It never occurred to you to inform someone—anyone—where you were going?” Marcus grabbed her shoulders. “Don't do this again.” He hadn't realized until seeing her, just how far his fear had run. He hugged her.
She wriggled within his grasp. “Marcus.”
He leaned back and looked into her face. “The next time you leave the castle, tell someone.”
Her brow furrowed, then her lips pursed. She wrested herself from his arms and tumbled back onto the couch. “Go away,” she snapped, and reached to smooth her skirts, which had bunched beneath her.
Marcus sat beside her. “Listen to me. There is mischief afoot, and I won't live in fear for your safety, even within the walls of my own home. Do you understand?”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want from me? I am a veritable prisoner as it is. Now, like some child, I must ask permission before stepping outside my room?”
“Bloody hell, do you think the Campbells came here out of boredom?”
“What do you mean?”
“They wanted you.”
She snorted. “That's ridiculous.”
He raised a brow. “Is it?”
“What are you saying?”
He thought, Who are you? Do the Campbells want you simply to hurt me? But said, “They wish to hurt me. Remember, they tried once before.”
“True,” she agreed. “But why put themselves in danger in order to kidnap me again?”
“I beg you to trust me,” he said. “Allow me some peace. Your confinement is for a short time, I swear.”
Elise studied him. “Your father concurs with this theory?”
“He does.”
“All right.”
“There is something else that would ease my mind.”
She sighed. “What is that?”
“I'm planning another trip to London. I wish to take you.”
Surprise flickered across her face, then her brows rose. “This, after nearly chaining me to the castle walls?”
“Beware, my sweet. You may yet find yourself in chains.”
“Sounds very nice, indeed,” she muttered.
Despite the feminine nonchalance, Marcus detected caution. Did she suspect what he had in store for her? “I said your incarceration would last only a short time. I will feel more secure if you're with me.”
“London?” she repeated.
Ah, there it was, a note of interest. “Aye.”
She looked thoughtful, then said, “Perhaps the Campbells would forget about me in the meantime.”
“Perhaps,” he said, though a niggling doubt said otherwise.
“I will go,” she said.
Marcus braced himself. “Good. Then I'll send for Father Whyte.”