MacGee filled the space with polite noise. “A fine hall. Warm fire. Good music. I must commend yer hospitality, Laird MacMillan. I have long admired?—”
“Mingle with the people, MacGee. We will talk later.”
With that, Alex disappeared into the crowd.
For the next thirty minutes, he thought of following Erica, but for some reason, he did not. If she had come to this decision, the last thing she needed was him smothering her. The best thing to do was play this close.
Later, as the cèilidh settled into a smooth rhythm, MacGee found him again.
“I must say, Laird MacMillan, what ye have managed to do with the?—”
“Ye can relax,” Alex said, his voice flat. “We ken what ye have been doing since Erica came here.”
MacGee blinked once, the practiced smile freezing on his face. “I beg yer pardon?”
“Yer note,” Alex said. “We saw it. Ye arenae as clever as ye think.”
The smile thinned. “Aye, so ye read me letter. I didnae mean any harm by it. I just wanted Erica to ken what is going on regarding the search for her faither and braither.”
“Nae that one,” Alex cut in. “The one ye sent to her in the market.”
Color drained from MacGee’s face. “I never sent her a note in the market.”
The space between them suddenly tightened. Around them, the reel faltered. A fiddler missed a string. Two guests slowed down, heads bent as if to catch a better sound.
“Is this a joke?” Alex asked, shifting his stance.
“What are ye saying?” MacGee asked, careful now. “The only letter I sent was sealed and delivered here. To the castle, nae the market.”
Alex’s certainty cracked across the grain. He had seen the threat. He had felt the shape of it. If MacGee had not sent the note, then who had, and from where?
“Then who?—”
Before he could finish speaking, a maid rushed in from the side passage, breathless, eyes wide. She dipped into a curtsy that was more a fall. “Me Laird, forgive the interruption. We cannae find Lady Erica.”
The music died down.
Alex turned. “What do ye mean, ye cannae find her?”
“She said she was going to check on the children,” the maid blurted. “We cannae find her or the children.”
CHAPTER 28
Everyonein the hall suddenly seemed to hold their breath, then let it out in a thin, ugly ripple.
“Unreliable,” someone near the wine table muttered.
“Like her faither,” another said. “And her braither.”
“Now she has taken the poor lasses,” a third voice added, low and eager.
Alex turned toward the sound. He did not need to see who had spoken. The tone was enough. He let his gaze sweep over them once, slow and cold, and the line of men bent their heads.
“She was here moments ago,” he said to the maid, already moving past MacGee, already tracking the last place he had seen Erica. “Which door?”
“The side door by the gallery,” the maid replied. “I turned to fetch more wine. When I looked again, she was gone. The nurse says the girls left earlier for the anteroom. She thought Her Ladyship went after them.”
MacGee stepped close. “Let me help. I have men outside. If there is danger?—”
