"In the middle of the night? Without telling anyone?" Francesca shook her head. "Something's wrong. I can feel it."
A commotion in the corridor announced Fraser's arrival, already armed, his face grim. "The men are gatherin' in the great hall. What do ye need, cousin?"
"Search parties. Every building on the grounds. The gardens, the stables, the chapel." Declan's voice rang with absolute authority. "No one rests until we find her."
"Aye." Fraser's eyes flicked to Francesca, softening briefly. "We'll find her, me Lady. I swear it."
As Fraser left to organize the search, more servants appeared—Duncan, Krista, others whose faces blurred together in Francesca's panic. They scattered at Declan's commands, taking torches and lanterns, calling Eloise's name.
“Search every room,” Declan commanded, his voice ringing with absolute authority. “Every chamber, every storage room, every corner of this castle. Now.”
The staff scattered immediately, responding to the steel in their laird’s tone. Declan turned to Duncan.
“Send riders to the village. Question everyone. I want to ken if anyone’s seen her, if any strangers have been spotted in the area.” His grey eyes were hard as granite. “And send word to the neighborin’ clans. If someone’s taken her off MacGhee lands, I need to ken where.”
“Aye, Me Laird.”
Francesca stood frozen in the center of the chaos, her mind refusing to accept what was happening. Eloise was missing. Her daughter—because that’s what Eloise was, blood or not—was somewhere she couldn’t find her, couldn’t protect her.
She moved to the window, staring out at the dark grounds. Somewhere out there, Eloise was alone. Frightened. Or worse?—
“We’ll find her.” Declan’s hand settled on her shoulder, firm and grounding. “I swear to ye, we’ll find her.”
“What if something bad has happened to her?”
“Nay.” His grip tightened. “No what-ifs. Nae yet. Stay here while we search. If she’s in the castle, ye will see her.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Ye’ll stay here in case she returns. Someone needs to be here.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to stay behind like some useless ornament!” Her voice rose, sharp with fear and fury. “That’s my child out there!”
“Which is exactly why ye need to think clearly. Let me do this.”
“Me Laird!” A young stable hand burst through the door, his face pale. “We found somethin’ in the courtyard.”
They followed him outside, where a piece of parchment had been weighted down with a stone. Declan snatched it up, his expression darkening with each word he read.
“What does it say?” Francesca demanded. “Declan, what does it say?”
He handed it to her without speaking, and the words swam before her eyes.
If you want the child returned unharmed, bring five hundred gold coins to the old kirk at sunset. Come alone. Any sign of guards or clan members, and the lass dies.
The parchment slipped from her nerveless fingers. “No. No, this can’t be.”
“Fraser!” Declan’s roar brought his cousin running. “Get every man we have. I want scouts on every road, every path leadin’ away from this castle. Someone took her, and they cannae have gone far.”
“Aye, but the note says to come alone.”
“I daenae give a damn what the note says.” Declan’s voice was deadly calm, more terrifying than any shout. “No one takes what’s mine and dictates terms. We find them. We bring Eloise home. And we make sure whoever did this regrets ever settin’ foot on MacGhee lands.”
The raw fury in his words, the absolute certainty of violence promised, should have frightened her. Instead, it steadied something inside Francesca’s chest.
“I’m coming with you,” she said again.
“Nay.”
