“There must be, aye,” Caitrin answered, keeping her voice as steady as she could. “But I kent this chamber and these windows. I didna think ye would mind.”
She held herself still as MacGregor’s gaze swept over his desk. Had she left it exactly as she’d found it, or would he know she’d looked at what he kept there—and found his plans?
“But the moon hasna finished setting,” MacGregor pointed out with a nod to the window. “Yet ye appeared to be leaving the solar. Had ye seen enough, then?”
Caitrin swallowed. “The sun is rising. I started getting sleepy so I decided to return to my chamber to prepare for the day. If ye’ll excuse me, I’ll go there now.”
“Nay. Ye’ll remain here. Take a seat.”
“I wish to leave, Alasdair.”
“Ah, now ye will call me Alasdair?” He narrowed his eyes. “What were ye doing in my solar?”
“I just told ye. Now, please, ye canna detain me. I am no’ yer betrothed yet.”
MacGregor gave her a long look, then smiled that cold smile she’d learned to hate. “But lass, I’ve signed the agreement already. Ye may well be my betrothed. Ach, ye didna ken? Yer da hasna kept ye informed? Too bad. Now sit.”
Pulse racing, Caitrin did as she was told, choosing one of the high-backed chairs facing the hearth while MacGregor sent one of his men to summon her father.
“My father? Why?” She twisted around in the chair to regard MacGregor as a sense of foreboding washed over her, leaving her skin pebbled and her heart in her throat.
“Be silent. Or tell me who ye are spying for. Yer da? Lathan? I will go easier on ye if ye tell me the truth before yer da gets here.”
Caitrin flinched and lowered her gaze. She dared not say a word. No matter what kind of trouble she’d gotten herself into, arguing with Alasdair would only make it worse. She bit the inside of her lip. What would he do to her father? She had the proof Jamie needed, but it would do them no good if they were all dead. Should she admit what she’d done to save herself or her da? Nay! MacGregor would hang Jamie and the rest of the Lathans before the sun set. She kept her eyes down and her mouth closed.
“Nay? Very well.”
While they waited for Fletcher to arrive, MacGregor sat at his desk and examined a few documents. Would he notice the missing blank pages? Had she put the ink back where he’d left it? Cold sweat dripped down Caitrin’s ribs by the time someone rapped on the door.
“Come.” The volume of MacGregor’s barked order made Caitrin flinch. Just how angry she’d made him remained to be seen.
Fletcher frowned when he noticed her presence, but addressed MacGregor. “Ye asked to see me. What is so urgent at this early hour?”
“I surprised yer daughter in my solar, leaving as I arrived. What do ye suppose she was doing here?”
“I came to watch the moon set,” Caitrin interjected, hoping to prevent her father from making the situation worse.
“She has always been fascinated by the night sky,” Fletcher confirmed, his frown deepening.
“Indeed. Does skywatching involve rifling my desk?”
“What?” Fletcher glanced her way and Caitrin could only shake her head, hoping he would defend her. “Of course no’. I doubt she went anywhere near yer desk.”
“No’ even to satisfy her feminine curiosity?”
Caitrin realized MacGregor’s mild tone boded ill. For her? For Fletcher? Did her father realize MacGregor made threats like a big cat, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to toy with its prey before sinking in its claws? When Fletcher gave a nervous chuckle and responded, “Ye never can tell with a lass,” Caitrin gave up hope of escaping without some punishment. But she had to try.
“It is as I told ye, Alasdair. I watched the moon until I became sleepy. I was leaving for my chamber when ye arrived.”
“Ye entered the laird’s solar without permission. I canna prove what ye did or didna do while ye were here. But the fact remains ye were here. Were ye spying for yer da? For that, ye should be given to the lash.”
Caitrin couldn’t contain her gasp, but Fletcher’s “Nay” covered up any sound she made.
MacGregor held up a hand. “Out of respect for my future betrothed, I willna rule in that fashion. But ye will be restricted to yer chamber, under guard, for three days. Ye’ll have bread and water and naught else for comfort. If, at the end of that time, I havena found any evidence ye tampered with anything here, I will release ye.”
“But…” Fletcher spluttered. “Ye think to treat my daughter this way and believe I will agree to marry her to ye?”
This is what it took to make her father see reason? Perhaps the punishment MacGregor meted out would be worth it. Her heart lifted. Would this negotiation for her hand end right here?
