She felt the familiar wave of fear crash over her but forced herself to meet his gaze.
“Beatrix is gone,” she said softly.
“Gone?” He went white with anger, his fingers biting into her arm. “What do you mean, gone? Where?”
“Somewhere safe.”
His dark eyes blackened with rage. He lifted his hand. “You’ll tell me where she’s gone or I’ll—”
All of a sudden her husband was at her side. He grabbed her father’s arm, wrenching it behind his back with such force she heard a sickly pop. Her father yelped in pain.
“Touch her again and I’ll kill you. Your daughter belongs to me now. Do you understand?”
With that deadly voice it was impossible not to. He was looking at her father as if he would love nothing more than to prove it.
Christina gazed at him in awe, stunned by his fierce defense of her. No one had ever spoken up for her like that. His reaction was so intense, she wondered if maybe …
Was it possible he did care for her?
Her father nodded mutely, his face twisted in agony. Tor pushed him away with a grunt, her father cradling his arm, which fell unnaturally from his shoulder.
“My daughter, Beatrix,” he said, his voice strained with pain. “She’s gone, and this one knows something about it.”
Tor turned to her, waiting for an explanation—as were the rest of the men.
The thrill of his fierce defense faded. She swallowed nervously, knowing that her sister’s future might well depend on the next few minutes. Would these men be sympathetic, or would they side with her father? Would they try to force her to tell them where Beatrix had gone?
She bit her lip, realizing she should have feigned ignorance. “Beatrix is somewhere safe. That is all I can say.”
“You had something to do with this?” Tor asked.
From his even tone it was impossible to guess what he was thinking—she suspected that would be a common occurrence in her future. Would he punish her for defying her father and helping her sister escape? She took a deep breath of faith and nodded.
He frowned, and for a moment, she tensed.
“She went alone?” he asked.
He didn’t sound angry. Cautiously, she nodded again.
Her father broke in. “You stupid girl. Do you not realize the danger she is in? A beautiful innocent like your sister? It’s like sending a lamb into a pack of hungry wolves. If she’s been harmed, it will be your fault.”
“He’s right, lass,” MacDonald agreed, in a far less belligerent tone. “The Highlands are no place for a woman alone. She could be in danger.”
Danger …
No! Christina refused to let them scare her. She wasn’t alone. There had been many other women travelers on the boat, as well as a friar. Beatrix would come to no harm. With favorable winds, she would be there before night fell.
She chanced a glance at her new husband; he was watching her with a curious expression on his face. “You knew the risk?” he asked.
She nodded, pleading for understanding. “We had no choice. Beatrix …” She twisted her hands, searching for a way to explain. “You see, she isn’t strong. It was far more dangerous for her to stay.” It might have been her only chance to get away.
Her husband gave a curt nod, as if satisfied by her explanation.
She couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t going to demand that she tell him what she knew. The show of trust was more than she could have dreamed.
But her elation was short-lived.
“How dare you!” her father growled. Despite his dislocated shoulder, he looked as if he’d like to grab her again. “’Tis not your decision to make.” To his guardsman he said, “She couldn’t have gone far. Check the jetties for any boats that have departed and ask the guards whether anyone was seen leaving the castle. She knows no one in the area—” All of a sudden he stopped. A steel glint came to his eye. He turned to Lamberton. “Where is the closest nunnery?”
