He almost joined them but then hesitated on the threshold and didn’t go in. He couldn’t face his people’s questions right now. No, what he needed was something else entirely. So he strode away, deeper into the keep where it was quieter and darker, the only sounds distant and soft.
Finally, he fetched up outside a closed wooden door. He raised his hand to knock but hesitated. He suddenly felt as nervous as a lad. What was wrong with him? He’d not left things well between him and Rose and he regretted barking at her the way he had. He’d not been able to help himself. The thought of her riding out into the storm—into danger—had twisted his guts with terror and that terror had transmuted into anger.
Rose’s angry expression had been enough to tell him exactly what she thought of his edict against her riding to Hemkirk, but at least she’d done as he asked. At least she was safe. Now all he had to do was make her see it was for the best.
He rapped on the door. There was no answer.
“Rose?” he called. “Lass? May I come in?”
When there was still no response, he pushed the door open and cautiously stepped inside.
The study was empty. The fire had burned down to embers, the chair was pushed back as if she’d risen in a hurry, and her cloak was missing from the peg. A sudden stab of alarm sent his pulse racing. Leaving the study, the strode through the keep.
“Go check Lady Rose’s room,” he snapped at a passing servant. “And see if anyone has seen her in the last hour.”
Instinct told him that Rose would not be found in her room. Nor in any other part of the castle. Had he thought she’d accepted his ban on her going to Hemkirk? Pah! He should have known better!
He strode to the main doors and threw them open. The wind snatched them from his grasp, sending them crashing back against the outer wall of the keep with a boom. Cailean hurried down the steps and over to the stables, the door banging open as he stepped inside.
Inside, the air was thick and warm with the scent of hay and horse. His eyes scanned the stalls. His own mount was there, shifting restlessly, but the fourth bay was empty.
His stomach clenched. Damn the woman! Why could sheneverdo as he asked?
“My laird?”
He spun as a stable hand carrying a bucket of oats stepped inside, seeming surprised to see him there.
“Where is she?” Cailean growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The lad swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. “Where is who?”
“Lady Rose.”
“I… I dinna know, my laird. I havenae seen her.”
Cailen pointed at the empty stall. “Which horse is missing?”
“Snip, my laird.”
Of course it was. The sure-footed one. The one Rose had ridden the other day. He felt like punching something. That stubborn woman had looked him in the eye only hours ago and thendefiedhim. Andnow she’d gone and ridden out into the teeth of a storm—alone.
He slammed his fist into the stable wall, the wood rattling in protest.
Fool of a woman.
“Help me get Arrow saddled.”
The stable lad hurried to obey. When it was done, he led the horse out into the courtyard.
Glancing towards the keep, he saw Catriona emerge onto the steps, looking around for him. “Go to Maggie, now!” he shouted to her. “And stay inside!”
“But—”
“Now, Cat.”
She scowled at him but obeyed without further word and he mounted up, the wind tearing at his cloak. The fat drops of rain thickened into a deluge as he galloped through the gates.
The storm had arrived. And Rose was out there in the heart of it.
