“Was this maid trustworthy? Did ye notice anything suspicious about her?”
“Nay, there was nothin’ suspicious. Lady Isla recognized her and seemed to ken the man they spoke of.”
“I can catch up with her if I leave now,” Callum said, looking eager.
Adair looked him over, taking in the mud on his boots and the restless way he shifted his weight. His jaw set. “I will handle this.”
Callum opened his mouth to protest the dismissal, then closed it and gave a short nod. With heavy steps, he descended the stairs and made his way to the side of the castle.
Adair was already worrying about the runaway bride. He did not want to worry about the groom, too.
“When Lady Isla returns, bring her to me.”
“Ye daenae intend to fetch her?”
“Nay.”
If what the maid had told Isla was true, Laird Scott would have no choice but to understand. Besides, Isla had taken a MacDonnell coachman and carriage.
“We can only hope she returns safely.”
Adair was in his study when Isla burst into it.
He rose, assessing her. Her chest was heaving, each breath too fast to be calm. Her dress was wrinkled, hem muddied, sleeves torn. Her hair hung around her shoulders as if it had been wrenched roughly from its coif, dark strands sticking to her damp face.
She looked wild. Furious. Terrified.
He was filled with a sudden fear.
Did I make the wrong call?
“Lady Isla, are ye alright?”
“I wish for a private audience with ye, me Laird.” Her voice was thin, but it did not break.
He spotted Mrs. Donnelly standing in the doorway, hovering with a handkerchief twisted in her hands. He nodded at her. “Leave us.”
She did not hesitate. The door clicked shut.
If she was as discreet as he remembered her to be, he did not have to worry about Callum bursting through the door. He was tempted to lock it either way.
He studied Isla for a moment. The torn sleeves. The mud on her hem. The way her hands trembled at her sides and then stilled, as if she’d forced them to.
“Ye left without a word, Lady Isla. Ye cannae do that,” he said carefully. He was not sure what the right approach was, given her state. “If anything had happened to ye, it would have sparked a war between our clans. Daenae repeat such reckless actions in the future for both our sakes, please.”
“Forgive me, me Laird, but the situation demanded it.” She stood in the room’s center, holding his gaze.
“Do ye wish to rest? We can speak in the morning.”
She shook her head earnestly. “I must speak with ye now.”
“I will send for some water, then.”
He reached for the bell pull when she said, “Scotch would do just fine.”
When he turned his back, she was already eying the decanter on the sideboard.
Adair understood that a laird’s daughter should be able to withstand strong liquor, but he was hesitant to indulge her.
