The tatters of her torn skirt whirled around her legs, giving Jamie a heated and heart-rending glimpse of her thigh, but her expression chilled him.
“I could feel the truth in his words. He was ready to kill ye where ye stood.”
Sudden shame hollowed his belly. This wasn’t about him. His anger wasforCaitrin. Not at her. For what she’d been through. What MacGregor had almost done to her. Jamie took her in his arms. “Look at ye, lass. He attacked ye, and ye have the strength to worry about what he might do to me?”
Caitrin pulled from his embrace and backed up a few paces, wide-eyed. “Not here. If he comes out and sees ye do that, nothing I can say will stop him.”
“Ye canna believe...”
“I ken it.”
The lass was determined, he’d give her that. “I’ll walk with ye to yer chamber, then. I dinna wish for any other man to accost ye.” He glanced at her torn skirt.
She tilted her head and eyed him, as though considering refusing his escort, but she said, “Verra well. I dinna ken where the guards who brought me went. Or Malcolm. I thought I heard his voice.”
“Malcolm took them away when I arrived, probably to keep them from interfering.”
They proceeded in silence, Jamie thinking furiously, weighing alternatives as they went. He suspected Caitrin simply didn’t wish for their voices to attract any attention as they moved through the MacGregor’s halls, but if she thought they’d finished talking, she was wrong. When they reached her door, he opened it for her, but remained outside, decisions made. Now if Caitrin would only do as he asked. “Pack anything ye canna do without and be ready. I will come for ye late tonight. Ye canna remain here any longer.”
“My da…”
“I’ll speak to him. But right now, be about getting ready to leave. Ye are in danger, and ye are putting yer da, me, and my men in danger, as well. This has to end.”
“What if Alasdair…?”
“Kyle will be outside yer door until I come for ye. He’ll be armed.”
“Is he better than Alasdair?”
“I hope we dinna have to find out. Latch this door and open it only to me or Kyle.”
Jamie didn’t wait for her agreement, simply closed the door and fetched Kyle to stand guard, then went to Fletcher.
“’Tis time,” Jamie told him without preamble. “MacGregor attacked Caitrin again. I saw it with my own eyes. If ye dinna believe her, believe me. He isna a fit man to be husband for yer daughter.”
Fletcher dropped his face into his hands. “What have I done?”
Sympathy bloomed warm in Jamie’s chest as he finally heard genuine dismay in Fletcher’s voice. “Ye tried to find a good man for her and an advantageous ally for yer clan. There’s nothing wrong with that. Nor with admitting ye made a mistake.”
Fletcher lifted his head and glanced around his chamber. “We must leave immediately.”
Jamie couldn’t argue with that, though Fletcher’s sudden capitulation surprised him. “We will.” Why wait until tonight? “Caitrin is gathering what she needs. Ye must do the same, but stay here until one of my men comes for ye. Kyle is at her door against more trouble. Dinna go looking for MacGregor. I dinna intend to leave any hostages behind.”
“How will ye get her out?”
“With the help of one of MacGregor’s men. We’ll meet her in the village and leave from there. Bring only what ye can carry. Ye’ll be walking to the village.”
Fletcher nodded. “Go do what ye must.” He moved to the table behind him and picked up a document. “First, I must burn this.”
Something in his voice told Jamie what Fletcher held. “The betrothal agreement?”
“Aye.” Fletcher hesitated.
With his back turned, his expression could not help Jamie determine what was going through his mind. The longer Fletcher studied the document, the tighter Jamie’s nerves wound, disbelief warring with the urge to cross the room and rip it from the man’s hands. “Ye didna sign it after what he’s done the last few days?”
“I signed it days ago, before the boar hunt.” Fletcher finally looked up from the document and turned to face Jamie. “MacGregor had already signed it. I thought he behaved as an eager bridegroom would. Nothing more than that.” He flinched as Jamie started toward him. “He hasna seen it,” he stammered, “and doesna ken I’ve signed it.”
“Burn it,” Jamie spat, near to shouting in his fury that Fletcher had decided days ago to give Caitrin to a man who mistreated her.
