The bed was made, but the shawl on the chair was gone. Her boots were gone. The window stood on the latch, and the curtains rose and fell with the gentle breeze.
He crossed the room and looked down at the courtyard, but he only saw people walking with trays and garlands.
No sign of her.
“Emma,” he called once.
The door was opened with a small creak.
He hurried back into the corridor. A maid with candles pressed herself against the wall, but he did not acknowledge her.
He knew which way Emma would go when she needed peace and quiet. Perhaps that was where she went.
He turned toward the nursery. He got to the door soon enough and looked around the room. Also empty.
No cloak. No glove. No ribbon.
No sign of Emma.
He left and checked the side passage, after which he opened the small door to the servants’ stairs. A few guards that Troy must have posted that morning froze when they spotted him. Their faces seemed to scream,Shouldnae he be getting married now?
“Anyone pass?” he asked.
“Nay, me Laird,” the lead guard said.
Jack pressed his palm against the wall and lowered his head.
So itdidhappen. The one thing he had been intensely terrified of. The one thing he had begged her not to do again.
Exhaling and focusing on the next course of action, he made his way back to the hall, waiting to speak to the crowd that waited there with bated breath.
He walked back to the front, his steps even and his expression neutral. The murmurs died down, and the musicians lowered their instruments.
Jack faced them and exhaled slowly. “I must apologize to every one of ye because the wedding willnae proceed,” he announced, his voice carrying to the doors. “It seems that me bride has run off.Again.”
Someone gasped. A bench creaked. He picked up the bouquet he had intended to give her and let it fall. The petals scattered across the stone floor, and he turned and flattened them with his heel.
On the far side of the hall, Stella began to cry. Catriona rose at once and swayed to soothe her. Jack went to her and held out his arms, and Catriona gave him the child without a word. Stella pressed her face into his coat and hiccupped until her breathing evened out.
Duncan reached him fast. “Jack, saints, are ye nae worried she might be hurt?”
Jack met his eyes, and a sharp smile cut across his mouth. “The simplest answer is the truest. Emma didnae want to marry me, so she ran.”
Duncan caught his sleeve. “What if something happened to her? What if?—”
“She ran,” Jack insisted. “Nothing more.”
He looked at a guard. “Clear the hall and feed the guests. Send the villagers home after they have had their fair share of the food, do ye understand me?”
“Aye, me Laird.”
People rose slowly, and a low murmur spread through the hall. It sounded like work beginning after a bell, not like grief, but he did not listen.
He shifted Stella higher and walked out. The study would be as he had left it. He would sit and count every way out he had missed. Perhaps he could even carve out more time to sift through the castle’s records. He would close what could be closed.
Duncan kept pace beside him, his breath the only indication that someone was following him.
“Jack,” he said softly. “Braither.”
