“She says she is not.”
“Well, of course she says she is not,” Calder said. “She doesna wish to be burned.” He took another step forward and lowered his voice even more. “And what about her story of being a Roxburghe? Ye ken as well as I that Carthson is the wrong name for that line. Remember the duke? Wasn’t that cheating bastard’s family name Ker?”
Teague took another sip before answering. “She explained that as well. It appears she is his bastard sister.”
“And he ran her off once his father died.” Calder nodded. “That explains her being on the run, but what about the boy? Is he really her son?”
“No. She and Robbie’s mother were set upon by several of the duke’s acquaintances. The lad’s mother failed to survive their escape. Mila refused to leave the boy behind.” Teague admired her for that. Not every woman alone and on the run would take on the additional burden of another woman’s child.
Calder crossed himself. “God bless her, then. God bless them both.”
“Aye, God bless them indeed.” Teague lifted his whisky as though toasting the sentiment. “But I dinna ken what to do about what she told me.”
Calder placed his empty glass on the cabinet with a noncommittal shrug and waved away a refill. “Perhaps she has the sight.” A leery grimace twisted his face. “Either that or she is a spy sent to us courtesy of Walpole.”
“She told me about Sunderland’s death before ye did. And also said I should deny any associations with him, the Bishop of Rochester, and Christopher Layer.”
“She knew about Atterbury and Layer?” Calder nervously shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other as though preparing to run. “Ye think she worked in one of their households? Or is an agent for Walpole? That bastard would stop at nothing to end the Cause.”
Teague thumped his glass back on the cabinet and slowly shook his head. “I dinna feckin’ know what to believe or do anymore.” Especially since whatever he decided would directly involve Mila. Not only had he promised no harm would come to her, but at some point during their pleasuring, he had come to realize that this woman was no idle tumble. Ever since he set eyes on her, she had haunted his every waking hour. And after last night’s visit to his bed, she now resided in his dreams. If he were brutally honest, she had dangerously taken up residence in his heart as well.
Mounting frustration drove him back to staring out the double doors. “What would ye do, Calder?” he asked without looking back.
“I dinna ken.” Calder joined him at the entrance to the garden. “I could talk to the lad. He is a damned poor liar. Evades answering by chattering nonsense about other things. Do ye wish me to speak with him?”
“Aye. Call him in from the stables. When Dorrie brought fresh water to my room this morning, she said she saw him heading that way.”
Calder shook his head. “He isna there. Grissa came down and told him something that set his tail on fire. He shouted to Iagan that Lady Mila was sick, and he had to go to her. That’s how I knew to tell ye of her ailing.”
Teague frowned, replaying the morning in his thoughts. His abrupt departure may have upset the lass. The fearful dread with which she had looked at him came to mind. “She probably sent for him. When I left her this morning, I handled it poorly. She may have misunderstood my actions.” Both insight and instinct told him Mila and Robbie planned to bolt. He felt it as surely as the whisky warming his gut. “Spread the word to watch for them. If caught trying to leave, they are to be stopped.”
Calder nodded and headed toward the hallway. “I will alert Iagan and Auley. They can watch the stables.”
“But be discreet,” Teague ordered him. “Make up a tale about keeping them safe from the duke’s family. In case I am wrong about their running. I will not have embarrassment brought down upon either of them.” He didn’t believe he was wrong—but still. He swung about and joined Calder. “I shall check her chambers and speak to her maid. It is my hope I am not right about this.”
“I would lay odds ye are correct. Yer instincts are always dead on.” Calder paused at the great hall’s entrance. “So, will ye heed her warning? And about the next meeting—shall I send word that all must be delayed till things calm a bit?”
“That is a decision for later.” Teague stepped into the stairwell, then looked back at his friend. “For now, Mila and Robbie are my priority.” His grandmother’s remarks about Lizzie came to mind. “And keep Lizzie away from Bethia, aye? Tell Duff to get a move on and convince that girl to marry him.”
Calder gave a perturbed shake of his head before walking away. “I canna control any of that, and ye damn well know it.” He urged Teague onward with a flip of his hand. “Lizzie willna stop until ye marry, and maybe not even then. She’s as bloodthirsty as a wee midge, and ye know it. Best warn Lady Mila about that too.”
“Soon as I find her, I will.” Teague vaulted up the steps, taking them two at a time. As soon as he reached the third floor, he knew it was too late. Doors opening and closing along with shouts ofnot heretold him that several searched everywhere for his flighty dove and the lad.
He stepped into her sitting room and waited for one of the searchers to scurry into view.
“Chieftain,” Grissa squeaked as she careened to a halt after exiting the smaller bedchamber. She popped a nervous curtsy and kept her gaze lowered. An unusual posture, since all the servants always looked him in the eyes. He had made it clear long ago that they could do so without fear. “How can I be of help to ye?”
“How long ago since ye saw her last?”
The girl’s face went red, crinkling with a sudden onslaught of tears. “After I sent Master Robbie to her, I went to the kitchens to fetch her a tisane to help with her ailing.” The girl hitched in a pitiful, shuddering sniff and cast a disheartened look at Mila’s bedchamber door. “I came back to find the linens stripped from the bed, breakfast gone—crocks included—and neither Mistress Mila nor Master Robbie anywhere to be found.”
“How long?” he repeated. While her account told him they had packed and run, it did not reveal how long since they left.
“Naught but an hour or so. Mayhap two at the most.”
“Ready this place for yer mistress. I want it perfect for her return.” He spun about and charged from the room. An hour. Maybe two. On foot, they would not have gone far. If they took horses, the search area would require expanding. He thundered down the steps, charged across the dining hall, and burst outside.
Once he reached the stables, Iagan and Calder’s looks told him their news would not please him. “How many horses did they take?”
