If anything happened to him, she would never be able to live with herself.
The pain in her chest was excruciating. It tore through her lungs making it hard to breathe.
She had no idea where to look. No idea how to find him in this foreign city.
Through her panic only one clear thought emerged.
Lord Sin.
He would find Jamie. She was sure of it.
Now, she just had to find him.
Sin scanned the crowd around him while he rode through the streets, seeking his bane. He’d cornered poor Aelfa and with little provocation, the maid had confessed Caledonia’s plan. Now he just had to get to the inn before the wench bought her horses.
With Simon behind him, they were making good time.
Out of the crowd, Sin spied a light-blue veil on a woman so tall she stood head and shoulders above those around her. Even though she appeared frantic and hurried, he recognized her instantly.
“Caledonia!” he called.
She stopped immediately.
Instead of running away as he expected, she rushed to his side. “Blessed saints and glory!” Her face was streaked by tears as she placed her hands against his right leg. Her desperate touch shouldn’t have affected him at all and yet it burned his skin with a throbbing heat that pulsed straight to his groin. “I am so glad to see you.”
Her words set him back. Never in his life had anyone said such a thing to him, let alone held such a sincere look about it.
Something bad must surely have happened for her to want to see the likes of him.
It was then he realized the boy wasn’t with her. Sliding from his horse, he held her by her arms. “What has happened?”
“It’s Jamie!” She grabbed his arm and started pulling him down the street with her as she looked all about. “He’s gone and we have to find him. He was here a few minutes ago and he vanished. Jamie!” she shouted his name.
Several people looked at them, but no one answered.
“Simon,” he called, “the boy is missing. Can you see him from up there?”
Simon shook his head and moved his horse to stand beside them. “Where were you when he vanished?”
She wiped her eyes with her hands and looked up at Simon. “Not very far from where we were yesterday. Maybe one street over.”
“By the milliner’s shop with the stuffed squirrel in the window?” Simon asked.
“Aye. I believe so.”
Sin arched a brow at the expression on Simon’s face. “You think you know where he might have gone?”
“Aye.”
Caledonia took a deep breath and her grip on Sin’s arm tightened.
“But,” Simon said, his voice sour, “I’ll only take you there provided neither one of you ever mentions the bed incident to me or anyone else. Ever.”
Caledonia blushed. “I am so sorry for that. But I did wash out your eyes. Do they still burn?”
Simon’s face turned the color of Caledonia’s hair, though from anger or embarrassment Sin couldn’t tell.
When Simon spoke, his voice was colder than a snowstorm in January. “They are fine. Thank you, milady, for your kindness.”
