He pushed open the door, stunned to find the bedchamber dark and silent, without even a low fire burning in the hearth. He moved toward her side of the bed, his heart beating fiercely against his chest. He reached out his hand and found nothing. The bed was empty, the covers drawn, as if no one had slept there for hours.
His startled gaze swept the shadowed corners. He even went so far as to check behind the screen, but to no avail. Madeleine was not there. He strode from the room, angrily slamming the door.
Myriad unpleasant possibilities flashed through his mind as he checked every room on the second floor, only to find them all empty. Dammit, where could she be? he wondered wildly. Where could she have gone? Farraline? Surely she hadn’t ventured out on another raid…
That unsettling thought filled him with cold fury. As soon as he grabbed his heavy coat from the drawing room closet, he would set out to look for her and not rest until he found her. Enough was enough!
Garrett ran down the stairs, almost bumping into Madeleine as she rounded the corner from the dining room.
“Madeleine!”
“G-Garrett,” she stammered, spots of high color appearing on her cheeks. “Kitty just told me ye were looking for me upstairs. I was on my way to find ye. I must have been in the dancing room when ye came in. I put some extra blankets in there for yer men. ‘Twill be a cold night, I think.”
Garrett pulled her into the drawing room, his gaze swiftly raking over her. She was wearing the wrapping gown he had given her in Edinburgh, the shimmering blue silk matching the vivid azure of her eyes. Her chestnut hair flowed freely down her back and softly framed her lovely features, the thick tresses gleaming with gold in the firelight.
He found himself thinking he had never seen her so bewitchingly beautiful. But why was she looking at him so strangely, as if she were seeing him for the first time?
“I was just coming in here to get my coat,” he said distractedly, glancing at the closet door.
“Are ye going out again? I’ve been waiting for ye, hoping we might talk. Could we—before ye go?”
Garrett stared at her, confused. “I’m not going anywhere. I was setting out to look for you. You weren’t in our room, you weren’t in any of the rooms, and I thought…” His voice trailed off, and he sighed heavily, looking down at his dusty boots. “Who the hell cares what I thought,” he said to himself, running his fingers through his hair. “It seems I was wrong.”
“I dinna understand,” Madeleine said softly.
Garrett met her eyes. “It was nothing, Maddie.” He exhaled sharply. “I want to talk to you—” His words died on his lips, suddenly realizing what she had just said. “You want to talk with me?”
“Aye,” she said, shifting nervously. “But if ye have something to say first, Garrett…”
“No, you go ahead,” he replied evenly, belying his own fierce impatience. He drew her further into the room to afford them some privacy, then abruptly changed his mind just as she opened her mouth. Dammit all, what he had to say wouldn’t wait!
“Glenis was here today, Garrett,” she blurted. “She claims—she claims ye love me.”
“I’ve had enough, Maddie!” he exclaimed at the same time. “When are you going to realize that I love you?”
The room echoed with their voices, followed by a stunned silence.
Madeleine’s knees felt so weak she thought for sure they would buckle beneath her. God’s wounds, he had said it. ‘Twas true. She stared at Garrett, her heart in her throat. His eyes were boring into hers. He had never looked so shaken.
“Glenis told you what?” he asked at last, his voice low and intense.
“She said ye admitted ye loved me when she found ye on the road to Inverfarigaig the night I was captured.”
“When was she here?”
“This morning,” Madeleine answered softly, trembling from head to foot. “But she’s gone back to Tullich. She only came to tell me I was a fool.” She saw the barest trace of a smile touch Garrett’s mouth, and she rushed on. “That’s why I wanted to talk with ye. I want ye to tell me for yerself how ye gained King Geordie’s pardon.” She paused, blushing warmly. Her voice fell to a whisper. “Glenis claimed if I knew yer side of the story, I’d understand how much ye care.”
Garrett sobered, his expression deadly serious. “This is quite a turnaround, Madeleine. Does it matter that much to you to hear the truth?” he asked, studying her face intently.
“Aye, it matters, Garrett,” she breathed. “I must know.”
“Very well,” he replied, moving closer to her. He stopped within arm’s reach, though he did not touch her. “You accused me of being landless,” he began, “which was true when I came to get you out of prison. I bargained away my estate in Sussex, Rosemoor, to obtain your pardon, Madeleine.”
“Yer estate?” she said incredulously. “But ye’re a second son. I assumed ye dinna have She faltered, at a loss.
“Rosemoor first belonged to my grandmother, a gift from her English husband,” Garrett explained, “then it was my mother’s, and she left it to me. Fortunately my brother, Gordon, wanted Rosemoor so badly he was willing to do almost anything for it,” he continued, “and fortunately he was in a position to help me.”
Madeleine listened breathlessly as he recounted his story, his words confirming what Glenis had told her and more.
