“Nay one knew of any such summons. Nay decorations were amiss. Puzzled, we hastened back tae the chamber, but Selene was nae there.”
A chill crept up his spine. They had searched the solar, then the corridors, then hurried back again to the dining hall, their confusion mounting with every unanswered question.
At last, with no other explanation left to them, they had assumed Selene must already be in the chapel.
Kenneth’s gaze flicked instinctively toward the altar where his bride should have been standing.
Of course, she was not there.
Something was amiss. The unease that had been coiling in his chest tightened, hard and cold, as he turned back toward Callum and Father Mulcahy. Selene was not merely late. Something had gone terribly wrong.
Callum was beside him, calm, as ever. “Let us look fer her again.”
They raced back to the keep and moved swiftly through every place she might have been. Kenneth told himself she might have fallen, that she might have taken ill, or suffered some sudden spell that had left her disoriented. Such thoughts were easier to bear than the alternatives pressing at the edges of his mind.
The search widened – the solar, the walled garden, the infirmary. Along the way, servants were questioned but no one had seen her pass.
It was in the kitchens that they came across young Jamie.
The boy was crouched behind a long trestle table, his thin shoulders hunched, his face ashen beneath a smear of soot. He looked no older than twelve, his hands were shaking so violentlythat he could scarcely keep them clasped. When Kenneth approached, the lad flinched as though he would be struck.
Maureen stopped short, recognition dawning in her eyes. She turned to Kenneth. “That’s the lad who came with the message that sent us tae the dining hall.”
Kenneth’s fierce gaze fixed on the boy and he lowered himself to Jamie’s level.
“Ye will tell me exactly what ye did,” he ground out, “and who it was who told ye tae dae it.”
Jamie’s lip trembled. At first he shook his head, words failing him, but under Kenneth’s unrelenting presence, the truth spilled out in a rush.
“It was a man… near the stables, this morning.” The boy’s voice shook. “He came up tae me and said he would give me gold pieces if I did what he asked.”
Kenneth growled. “Did ye ken this man’s name?
Jamie shook his head. “He gave me a coin and said all I was tae dae was deliver two messages. The first tae the two younger ladies, then another message fer the other lady.”
Kenneth struggled to quiet his impatience with the lad. “What was this message tae the third lady?”
“They said they were organizing a surprise and that there’d be nay trouble fer me. I was tae lead her outside, nay farther than the postern gate. That was all. I didnae mean nay harm.”
Kenneth’s jaw clenched as the lad continued. As instructed, he had led Selene out into the snow beyond the gate, and then, suddenly fearful, he had fled. He did not know what had happened after that.
Kenneth was already on his feet. There was no more to be learned. He rushed toward the postern gate, Callum a step behind, their breath fogging in the chill air.
The snow told a tale that words could not.
Several sets of footprints marked the ground, their pattern uneven and chaotic. One set veered sharply, heels dug deep as though someone had resisted being dragged forward. The signs of struggle were unmistakable.
Kenneth stared down at the disturbed snow, the truth settling with brutal clarity.
Selene had not wandered off.
She had been taken.
He turned from the trampled snow and bellowed for the alarm to be sounded. Moments later, the bells’ urgent clangor spilledacross the grounds, shattering what remained of the morning’s calm.
Together with Callum he raced to the barracks to rouse the soldiers. Orders followed in swift succession – gates to be watched, horses readied, men armed.
Kenneth ran for the stables, his boots slipping on the icy stones as he went. Arkan greeted him with a sharp toss of his head as if sensing the urgency in his master’s stride. Kenneth swung into the saddle and hauled the reins tight, keeping his hands steady despite the fury pounding through his veins.
