Highland Scoundrel (Campbell Trilogy #3)(72)

Knowing Ella would soon be missed—if she hadn't been already—and that Jeannie would be in a panic, he sent one of his men back to the castle with a message that the lass was safe and they would return soon.

But hampered by the need to ride slower—even with Ella wrapped snuggly in his plaid before him—and then the storm, it was nearly two hours later that they rode back through the gate to discover that his messenger had just arrived. The man's horse had gone lame and he'd been forced to lead the beast the whole way back. He'd run into Adam and the party of guardsmen looking for Ella and they'd called off the search.

Duncan knew something was wrong when he looked around the barmkin and didn't see her. The crowd that had gathered to see the lass's safe return didn't include Jeannie. His heart took a sudden jump.

The Marchioness of Huntly met him at the bottom of the forestairs. “You found her!”

Actually Ella had found them, but the lass would be in enough trouble without him making note of her skill. “Aye.”

Ella had also noticed her mother's absence. She looked around as he handed her down to her grandmother and asked before he could, “Where's mother?”

“Looking for you,” the Marchioness quipped, her voice severe.

Ella bit her lip, gazing up at her with wide, guilt-filled eyes.

While the lass attempted to appease her grandmother, Duncan turned to Adam. “I thought you said all the search parties had been told to return.” His voice gave no hint to the sudden disquiet that had settled over him.

“Aye, they have,” Adam said. “I know nothing of this.”

The Marchioness's mouth pursed with disapproval. “Jean left after the others with a couple of guardsmen when it started to snow. She mentioned a stone circle. Someplace Ella used to go with her father.”

Ella brightened. “Near the loch! I was going to go there if I couldn't find you.”

Duncan swore. A couple of guardsmen? Loch Kinord and the nearby stone circle were on the edge of Farquharson territory. It explained why they hadn't come across Jeannie on their ride back—she would have taken the road north of the Dee. “How long ago did she leave?”

“About an hour.”

Duncan didn't need to say anything. One grim look at Conall and Leif and they were off, joined by a half dozen Gordon guardsmen.

The thunder of hooves couldn't drown out the pounding in his chest. He hated this feeling—this vulnerability he still felt when it came to her. The thought of Jeannie in danger penetrated his hard-wrought reserve like nothing else. Only his complete focus on the task at hand kept fear at bay.

But when he caught up with her … he didn't know whether he was going to throttle her or kiss her until the half-crazed feeling inside him let go.

There was probably no reason to worry. With the storm it would be unlikely that anyone would be about, but he wouldn't be able to relax until Jeannie was safe and back where she belonged. With him.

Jeannie gazed around at the circle of irregularly sized boulders in the small clearing of oakwoods, feeling her heart sink with disappointment. A thin layer of fluffy, pristine snow blanketed the ground and rocks. It seemed so still. So perfectly quiet … except for the sound of their voices echoing through the trees.

“Ella …” She waited, ears honed on silence.

She'd been so convinced that Ella would be here. Now she was beginning to feel foolish.

A sharp wind blew across the clearing. Jeannie shivered and sank into the deep folds of her hooded cloak. The snow had slowed, but with the daylight fading it was getting cold—very cold. Even with wool-lined leather gloves, her hands could barely clench the reins. She'd stopped feeling her face about an hour ago.

Her heart squeezed. Ella was so small, the icy weather would be even worse for her.

William, one of the guardsmen who'd accompanied her, halted his horse beside hers. “There's no sign of the lass, my lady.” He waited for her to say something, but she was too overcome by disappointment. “We have to turn around; we're too close to Farquharson lands.” Both men had grown increasingly wary as they neared Dinnet.

The warning was well met. The “fighting” Farquharsons had earned their moniker. The clan was part of the Chattan confederation of clans that included—among others—the Mackintoshes. Neither of whom were friends of the Gordons.

They were treading on dangerous ground and she knew it.

Jeannie nodded, taking one last look around, seeing not the beauty of the snow-laden trees and hills, but danger and the myriad of places in which a little girl could get lost.

William gave her an encouraging smile. “I'm sure they found her by now, my lady. The wee lass is probably warming up before the fire as we speak.”

“You think so?” Her voice cracked, sore and ill-used from shouting in the cold.

William's smile deepened. “I'm sure of it.”

Jeannie appreciated his confidence even though she knew he could well be wrong. But at least Duncan and the other men would have returned by now. Duncan would know what to do. If anyone could find her daughter he could. Never had she needed his solid, steady strength as she did now.

Following William's lead, she turned her horse around and threaded back through the trees. They rode for about a mile before Jeannie realized that something was wrong.