She shoved backfrom the table, her chair scraping loudly across the stone floor. Heads turned. More whispers. Her vision tunneled.
"There'snay one to stop ye—" Theodore began.
"I cannae breathe."Her voice pitched higher, panic clawing up her throat. She stumbled to her feet, nearly knocking over her cup. "The walls—there's too many people—I cannae?—"
Theodore stood,reaching for her. "Madison?—"
"Daenae touch me!"The words burst out before she could stop them. The entire hall went silent. She pressed her hands to her chest, gasping. "I'm sorry, I dinnae mean—I just—I need out. Please."
She didn't waitfor permission. She turned and fled toward the doors, her breath coming in ragged gasps, not caring that every eye in the hall watched her run.
Every stepshe took was a test of her strength. Her leg ached and burned as it pleaded for less strenuous activity. But she wasn’t going to stay in a room with slandering lips and haughty eyes.
No,she needed a sanctuary and the only place she could think to go was back to the safety of her chambers.
“I’m a fool,”she muttered as she closed the door and dropped to the floor, relief washing over her like cool water to a dried spring. Tears pooled in her eyes as she shook her head. How was she ever to go back to her family if she couldn’t even handle strangers looking at her? Madison didn’t know. Too much had changed for her since she’d been taken for the hunt. Far too much terror and horror and pain had been afflicted on her to make her ever feel safe again.
Madison rockedas the tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m safe. Nay one will hurt me. Nae here… I’m safe.”
12
Theodore's gaze remained fixed on the door, half expecting Madison to return. Minutes passed, and when there was still no sign of her his chest tightened. He reached for his dram, but the burn did nothing to ease the hollow ache spreading through him. Madison had walked out—no, fled—in front of everyone. And while he'd defend her with his last breath, there was no stopping the gossip from spreading like rot through grain.
He exhaled slowly,dragging his fingers through his hair until it stood in rough disarray. The hall had fallen quiet at first, shocked into silence. Now the low hum of conversation crept back, but the mood had shifted. No longer the vibrant chatter of a feast, but hushed speculation. Pointed glances. Pursed lips.
The unspoken questionhung in every stare: What madness has seized our laird?
"Ye'd thinkthe people would have somethin' better to do with their time than gawk at yer ugly face," Boyd said, dropping into the seat beside Theodore without ceremony.
Theodore's mouthtwitched despite himself. "I must say, ye're a sight for sore eyes."
He waved the servant over.Before Theodore could speak, the young man had refilled his glass and poured whisky for Boyd.
"Well, I daenae ken about that."Boyd's grin was lopsided. "Suppose it depends on who's lookin'. If there's a pretty lass with eyes for only me, then I'll have to bid ye farewell."
Theodore studiedhis friend more closely. The flush in Boyd's cheeks, the loose-limbed sprawl. "What's got ye in such fine spirits?"
Boyd reached for his glass,but Theodore snatched it away. "I'm nae one for spoilin' a good time, but I need ye sober in the mornin'. We've a promise to keep."
"I've made nay such promise."Boyd slumped back in his chair, resigned. "But seein' as ye're me laird, I'll do yer biddin'."
Theodore nodded,then fell silent. His gaze drifted back to the door.
"Tell me,"he finally said, voice low. "What makes a lass run off without a word?"
Boyd scratchedhis upper lip thoughtfully. "Did ye eat onions? I've been told if ye have foul breath, the ladies want nothin' to do with ye."
"I'm bein'serious." Heat prickled beneath Theodore's skin. "Madison ran out of here as if her feet were on fire."
"Might haveto do with her head achin'." Boyd finished his water and slammed the cup down. "Bells were ringin' right before the meal, aye?"
Theodore's breath caught.The bells. Of course—the loud, jarring clang that announced meals across the island. How had he not thought of it? She'd been struck in the head during the hunt. The noise must have sent pain lancing through her skull.
Guilt twisted in his gut.
"The bells,"Theodore said, voice tight. "Lower the tone. Have the pitch changed so they daenae ring so sharp."
Boyd's eyebrows shot up."Do ye have any idea how much that'll cost?"
