Dominic was behind the bar and glanced up when Thomas came in. Astrid was perched near the end, looking bored. She perked up when she spotted Thomas.
“Have ye seen Emma?” Thomas asked, leaning over the bar towards Dominic. “Nobody can find her.”
Dominic frowned. “Well, how long has she been missing?”
“Since nine o’clock this morning.”
“That’s not so long. Are ye sure ye need to be worried?”
Thomas bit his lip. “My chief healer is worried, so I’m worried. She was sent to gather herbs, so she could have been hurt, or gotten lost, or…”
Or eloped.
Dominic frowned. “Well, why do ye think she’d be here?”
Thomas swallowed hard, glancing over at Astrid. The woman didn’tappearto be listening in, but he’d wager that she was.
“I saw her with a man here,” he confessed.
Dominic’s eyes widened. “You mean…witha man?”
“No! Just talking to him. They were standing close, and he touched her face.”
“Hmm. Well, that doesn’t necessarily mean the meeting was romantic. Did she touch him? Did she maybe move towards him?”
Thomas shook his head. “She didn’t move much at all. She just… just stood there. Stock still.”
Now that he thought about it, it didn’t seem right. When he and Emma had been intimate, she’d moved a lot. She touched him, put her arms around him, and leaned towards him. A woman—or any person, really—that stood like a statue while you touched them was probably not enjoying the moment.
Have I been an absolute fool?
“Dominic, I—”
“Laird MacPherson, may I speak with ye for a moment?” Astrid requested sweetly, materializing at his side. “In private, if possible.”
Thomas swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. “Anything ye want to say in front of me, ye can say in front of Dominic.”
Astrid pouted. “I’d rather not, Me Laird.”
Dominic rolled his eyes. “I’ll go and ask some of the staff whether they have seen anything of Emma. Ye two can have your chat.” He turned and made his way back towards the kitchens, leaving Thomas and Astrid alone.
Astrid smiled at Thomas, fluttering perfect eyelashes over perfect eyes. “I’m glad to see ye again, Me Laird. I don’t see ye enough. Ye will make a woman pine for ye if ye carry on this way.”
Thomas clenched his teeth, squeezing his hands into fists. “Astrid, I hope… I hope I haven’t given ye any reason to have false hope of me. I think ye know what I mean. I am turning my thoughts to more serious relationships these days, and ye are not what I am looking for in a wife. And, of course, I’m sure I’m not what ye want in a husband.”
Astrid gave a dainty, one-shouldered shrug. “In my experience, men don’t know what they want until it is given to them. As for me, I know exactly what I want. I want ye, Thomas.”
Her hand slithered across the top of the bar, reaching for his. Thomas whisked it away.
“Astrid, please. Do ye know anything about Emma’s disappearance? Did ye maybe see something or hear something? Any clue, any hint would help me.”
“Help ye?” Astrid gave a tittering melodious laugh that made a couple of drunks lift their heads from the tables and goggle at her. “So ye can go and make that plain, green-fingered fool Lady MacPherson? I don’t think so.”
Thomas backed away, but she kept coming.
“Astrid, stop. This isn’t helpful. Not one bit. If ye don’t know where Emma is, I’ll take my leave.”
He turned on his heel, marching towards the door.
