“Do ye think she left of her own will?” he asked sharply, glancing at her for only a moment.
Beatrice hesitated, her brow furrowing. “I… I daenae think so,” she admitted, though doubt flickered in her eyes. “She has fled before, aye… that is how she came here. But she wouldnae go without a word this time. She would tell me.”
The first toll of the alarm bells rang out then, loud and echoing through the stone halls. It sent a jolt through James’s chest.
“Then it is possible she has been taken,” he said grimly, more to himself than to her.
Beatrice’s face went pale at his words. “Taken?” she whispered, her voice barely holding together. “By whom?”
James did not answer at once, though Mairead’s face flashed unbidden through his mind, followed by a darker, more dangerous thought.
He turned abruptly, stopping so suddenly that Beatrice nearly collided with him.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm and commanding. “Go to her chamber. Search it thoroughly.”
Beatrice blinked, still shaken. “Search…?”
“Aye,” he snapped, though not unkindly. “Look for anythin'. A note, a sign, anythin' that might tell us where she has been taken or who is responsible.”
Beatrice swallowed hard, nodding despite the fear in her eyes. “Aye, me Laird,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I will look.”
“Good,” James said shortly, already turning away. “Daenae let anyone disturb ye while ye search.”
Beatrice gave a quick nod and hurried off down the corridor, her skirts gathered in her hands as she ran. James watched her go for only a moment before he moved again, his pace quickening. The bells continued to ring, their relentless toll echoing through the castle and into the courtyard beyond. Servants began to emerge from doorways, guards rushing forward in confusion and alarm.
“Seal the gates!” James roared as he descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Nay one leaves this castle without me command!”
A pair of guards snapped to attention at once. “Aye, me Laird!” they called, sprinting toward the gates.
James’s hands curled into fists at his sides, fury and fear twisting together in his chest. His mind burned with one thought, over and over again.
Eloise is gone.And someone within me walls is responsible. And I think I ken who.
James did not knock. The door to Mairead’s chamber slammed open beneath the force of his boot, striking the stone wall with a resounding crack that echoed through the corridor. Mairead spun at the noise, her hands clutching the edge of a table, her eyes wide with shock.
“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, her voice sharp though it wavered at the edges. “Ye cannae simply barge into me room, me Laird.”
James stepped inside like a storm given flesh, his presence filling the space with a dangerous intensity.
“Where is she?” he thundered, his voice low and lethal.
Mairead blinked, recovering quickly, her expression smoothing into a sweet tone. “I daenae ken what ye mean,” she said softly, tilting her head as though confused.
“Daenae lie to me,” he snapped, taking a step closer. “Tell me where she is, or I swear to God ye will regret it.”
Mairead’s eyes narrowed then, the sweetness falling away to reveal something colder beneath. “Ye presume much,” she replied coolly, though her voice held a flicker of defiance.
“Presume?” James barked, his restraint fraying. “Her chamber shows signs of struggle, and ye expect me to believe ye ken nothing?”
He closed the distance between them, his towering presence forcing her back a step. “Ye have been nothing but trouble since ye returned,” he growled.
Mairead lifted her chin, refusing to retreat further. “Everythin' I have done has been for the good of this clan,” she shot back, her voice rising. “For the strength of Calibroch, for the alliances that matter.”
James stared at her, incredulous. “Ye call this strength?” he demanded. “Ye call harmin' an innocent lass strategy?”
Mairead’s expression hardened, her eyes flashing. “She is nae innocent,” she countered sharply. “She is a problem. A distraction. Ye were meant for somethin' greater than some wanderin' girl with soft words and softer hands.”
James’s breath came heavier, anger coiling tightly in his chest. “I understand what ye were raised to believe,” he said, “But I will nae forgive this. Nae now. Nae ever.”
