“I hope all that celebrating includes some private time of our own.” Caitrin rose up on tiptoe to kiss him. “Or I’ll no’ be happy at all.”
“Ach, lass,” Jamie said, turning to wrap her in his arms, “I plan to keep ye verra, verra happy.”
Caitrin rested her head on his shoulder and tunneled her fingers into his hair. “I love ye, Jamie Lathan.”
“And I, ye, lass. Never ye doubt it.”
She lifted her head and leaned back to meet his dark gaze. “I never will. Ye tell me every day, with yer words, yer touch, yer kiss…”
He lowered his head and took her mouth, not caring who might remain in the hall to see them. Then he swept her up into his arms and mounted the stairs, smiling as Caitrin laughed.
As they passed a window in the upper hall near their chamber, she sighed. “Ah, look! ’Tis snowing now. ’Twill be a wonderful Yule,” she told him.
“Aye, ’twill. Starting now.”
Several hours later,someone pounding on the door of Jamie and Caitrin’s chamber roused them both.
“This canna be good,” Caitrin muttered and pulled the covers up to her chin. She wasn’t one to wake up quickly—certainly not at this hour.
Jamie pulled a shirt over his head and hurried to the door. “Naught good ever came of someone pounding on the door in the middle of the night,” he grumbled over his shoulder before he opened it and heard what the man who’d disturbed them had to say.
Caitrin struggled to overhear. Was her da ill? Or someone else in the keep? Ach, nay, had the Yule log sparked a blaze in the great hall? Nay, that couldn’t be it. There would be more of an alarm than one man at the door. Nay, someone had arrived at the gate out of the dark and snow.
“Let them in the keep, man. Put them by the fire in the great hall. And get them a wee dram and something hot to drink,” Jamie said, closed the door and turned back to her. “LadyMadeleine’s escort came back, but one of their men got lost in the snowstorm. We’re going to have to go search for him.”
“Ach, nay.” Caitrin’s stomach sank. She sat up and swung her legs off the side of the bed. “Did they have any idea where they lost him?” She shook her head and sighed. “Daft question. If they did, they’d have brought him with them, aye?” She rubbed her eyes and yawned.
Jamie grinned at that. “They would.” He began dressing for cold weather.
Caitrin yawned again, got up, pulled a dress over her undershift and boots over her stockinged feet. After she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, she bent to stoke the fire while Jamie collected his weapons. “How many men are ye taking with ye?”
“Twenty Fletchers who’ve grown up running around the countryside. They’ll ken where a man might have come to trouble.”
“They will. But in the dark? In a snowstorm?”
“It canna be helped. If he’s hurt, the man may freeze to death before sunrise.” He went to the window and pulled aside the heavy cover. “Which should be in about six hours. On the one hand, ’tis good they didna get far in this storm. On the other, damn it, we could be searching in the dark for hours.”
“Ye will take food and drink and blankets, aye?” Caitrin ordered. “I’ll go rouse the kitchen while ye gather the men. Do ye think I should wake Lady Madeleine?”
“Nay, let her sleep. We’ll ken more by morning. Until then, all she can do is wait and fret.”
Caitrin saw the sense of that, nodded, and headed downstairs, Jamie on her heels.
The men left within minutes, the restored MacGregor men each paired with two Fletchers. Jamie believed their presence would hasten the search, as they could lead his men back to thepoint at which they decided to turn back and realized one of their men was missing.
Caitrin watched them ride out from the open door of the keep, her shawl pulled tight around her shoulders, but she shivered nonetheless as snowflakes swirled and danced in the frigid air. “Come back soon,” she whispered as Jamie passed through the gates, then stepped back inside and pushed the heavy door shut.
She turned around with the intention of sitting by the fire to warm herself but found Lady Madeleine standing in her way.
“What happened?”
Caitrin wanted to make up a tale that had nothing to do with MacGregor men, but she couldn’t do that to this woman, who had lived most of her life with men lying to her. The truth would upset her, but she deserved no less.
“Yer escort came back, but one man is lost in the storm. Jamie has taken them and twenty Fletchers out to find him.”
Lady Madeleine raised a hand to her throat. “Who is lost?”
“A man named Magnus.”
