“And how might I ask do ye lose them without me?” Gunn paused in his scanning of the floor and cast a jealous look her way.
“There are more ways to lose the silly things than what we just did.” She combed her fingers through her hair, cursing the messy curls. “It’s just long enough to get in the way but still too short for a decent braid. I wish I had never cut it.”
He handed her three pins, then grinned and plucked two more from the laces securing her stomacher. “Why did ye cut it…and how many are we looking for?”
“Seven. Usually. Ebby thinks the number six has something to do with the devil, or some such nonsense. I dinna remember exactly what she said.” She tried to tame the tresses into some semblance of order and pin them back in a simple knot before they slipped free again. What she wouldn’t give for another elastic band or plastic hair clip. The simple band she had brought from the future had snapped. “Ugh! It’s like a wriggling eel or something. I dinna ken how Ebby manages it. And I cut it because I needed a change. I tend to do that when I am unhappy.”
“Good to know.” He came up behind her and nibbled a trail of tingling kisses across her nape. “If ye ever cut it again, I will know I have not kept ye pleased.”
“I dinna think that will be a problem.”
And she didn’t. This incredible man believed her. He had accepted her unbelievable story on her word alone. It both amazed and touched her. It also meant more to her than all the riches in the world.
She gingerly patted her hair one last time. “This is as good as it’s going to get without Ebby’s expertise. If ye want to see if Jasper is still in the hall and find out what he wanted, I am ready.”
“Hmph.” Gunn pulled her back into his arms and held her close so she could feel what he would rather be doing than speaking with the war chief. Even through her petticoat and skirt, the hard length of him tempted her to lock the library door and forget everything beyond it.
“Gunn,” Jasper called out from the hall. “I fear this canna wait.”
“I will kill him,” Gunn promised softly.
“No. Ye know he wouldna interrupt us again unless it was urgent. He knows what we were doing.” She attempted to placate him with a quick kiss. “Later, aye? We have the rest of our lives.” She didn’t want to wait either, but he was the chieftain, with all the responsibilities that entailed.
“Come in with ye, man.” Gunn snorted like a disgruntled bull as he adjusted the folds of his kilt in a futile attempt at hiding the tenting created by his erection.
Jasper entered, his expression grim. “Lady Murdina has escaped her rooms.”
Immediate fear for the children clutched Lorna. “I should find the bairns.”
Gunn caught hold of her. “Wait. We need to know more first.” He motioned the war chief closer. “How?”
“I am not certain.” Jasper stood there, scowling, his fists clenched. The man’s anguish was obvious. “Forsy said when she went to give the woman her daily tisane, Lady Murdina was gone.” He slowly shook his head. “The guard at the door is a good man. Alert. Loyal. He said he neither saw nor heard anything.”
“She had to have found the tunnels,” Gunn said. “I shouldha ordered access to her rooms sealed.” He pounded his fist into his palm. “I am a damned fool. Underestimated that deceitful wretch again.”
“There is more,” Jasper said. Dread and something even darker filled his tone. “Her brother is dead.”
“Dead?” A sense of impending doom made Lorna’s heartbeat pound hard into her throat. “I have to find the children. Now.”
Gunn waved her on. “Go!” Then he caught her back and pressed hissgian-dubhinto her hand. “Do whatever ye need do to keep yerself and the bairns safe. Understand?”
“I will.” As she ran from the room, she tucked the short dagger snugly between her breasts. The annoying stays finally proved useful, holding the blade in place.
Headed for the stables, she slowed only long enough to snatch her cloak from the peg beside the kitchen’s rear door. The wonderful day had suddenly gone bleak and forbidding.
If the woman was in the tunnels, she could hide like a rat in the walls for days. Desperation must have driven her to it. What could she possibly hope to accomplish by leaving her rooms? Surely Lady Murdina had enough sense to realize that she had no means of escape from Thursa. Not only could all in the clan recognize her on sight, but it was the dead of winter and bitterly cold. The snow left by the storm from weeks ago was still as thick as the day it fell.
“Children?” She tried not to sound as panicked as she felt even as she broke into a run and charged into the stable. “Children?”
“Here with the kittens,” Frances called out.
Now that she knew they were safe, she could breathe. She eased around the glowing brazier that the stable master kept burning in front of the stall where the mother cat and kittens stayed. The gruff old man had mumbled something about keeping the chieftain’s daughter from coming down with ague from the cold, but Lorna had caught him smiling down into the stall and watching the kittens on more than one occasion. It was more than a little clear he intended the warmth of the brazier for the wee felines as much as the bairns.
But as she cleared the iron firepit and looked into the stall, she halted, and the choking panic returned. “Where is Bella?”
Both children looked up. “She said she would be here after she used the garderobe,” Frances said, then frowned. “But she shouldha been here by now. Reckon she is feeling poorly?”
“Which garderobe?” If Bella had been on her floor, she would have used the privy attached to her room. Lorna struggled to keep the panic out of her voice. “Which one, Frances?”
