Highland Warrior (Campbell Trilogy #1)(81)
Finally, he answered, “Whatever my duty requires.”
“And if he is fighting with the outlaws?”
“I will arrest him.”
Argyll smiled, well pleased.
“After all . . .” Jamie paused to return his smile. “I’ve heard you have a mind to be lenient where the Lamonts are concerned. Very lenient.”
Argyll’s smile fell, knowing he’d just heard the terms of his recompense for the rash act that had jeopardized everything they’d strived for and maligned Jamie in the process. He scowled and then said dryly, “Oh yes, I’m often regaled for my leniency.”
Jamie grinned and shook his head. “And people say you are without humor.”
Argyll’s mouth quirked. He well knew his grim reputation. “And what if you don’t find anything?”
“If one of my wife’s brothers is alive, I’ll find him.”
They both knew it was only a question of when, not if.
“Just make sure you find him soon, before he does something I cannot undo. My ‘leniency’ is not without limits. Remember, you are charged with clearing Bute of outlaws and took surety for the Lamonts. Ultimately you will be held responsible for their actions.”
Jamie nodded. The sooner he found any survivors, the better—before one of his wife’s brothers put them all at risk. Argyll, he knew, could be pushed only so far.
Chapter 18
A week later, Jamie rode through the gate of Rothesay Castle, exhausted and disappointed. He’d scoured the mountainous area north of Loch Lomond to no avail. If one or more of the Lamont’s sons had survived, they’d ventured too far into the treacherous mountains for Jamie to find them now. With winter bearing down on them, he’d have to wait until spring and then try again. Assuming he wasn’t chasing a ghost. There was always the possibility that the rumors of survival were unfounded.
The entire journey back to the Isle of Bute, he’d debated what to tell Caitrina. Should he wait until he had proof—or tell her what he’d heard, even if it turned out to be only rumor? Did he dare set fire to her hopes with so little? She was still so vulnerable and just coming to terms with their deaths. Would further disappointment send her catapulting back into the dark abyss of loss?
Hell, he still didn’t know what to do—an unusual state for a man who prided himself on his decisiveness. Perhaps when he saw her the answer would come to him. He was also not looking forward to telling her about the MacGregor’s death, assuming the news had not arrived before him. After over a week of separation, the closeness they’d shared before he left seemed tenuous and fragile.
Gazing around the barmkin, he half expected to see her. The closer he’d drawn to Rothesay, the more anxious he’d grown. He’d missed her more than he thought possible.
But there was no sign of her. He frowned. He’d hoped she’d missed him as well, but apparently she wasn’t eagerly awaiting his return.
He dismounted and tossed the reins to a waiting stable lad as his men filed in behind him. “Where is the lady?”
The boy shook, refusing to meet his gaze. “I–I do-don’t know, my laird.”
The lad’s terror rankled; Jamie did not relish inspiring fear in children. His fearsome reputation, it appeared, had not lessened any with his marriage. He bit back his impatience and asked calmly, “Did my man not arrive with news of our arrival?”
“Y-y-yes, my laird. About an hour ago.”
Seeing the boy’s eagerness to leave, Jamie dismissed him and gave orders to his guardsmen to see to their horses before giving them leave to find food and drink. It had been some time since they’d had a regular meal. He intended to do the same after he’d spoken with Will, the guardsman he’d left in charge while he was gone—just as soon as he found his wife.
He entered the keep, and passed through the deserted great hall on the way up the stairs to their chamber. He opened the door and looked around inside, seeing no sign of her. A prickle of alarm coursed through him.
Where the hell was she?
Caitrina raced up the stairs, her lungs near bursting. She drew her hand across her forehead to wipe away the sheen of perspiration and gulped in air, her breathing hard and erratic. After Mor had appeared at the cave with news of Jamie’s imminent arrival, she’d run the entire way back to the castle without stopping. His sudden return had caught her unprepared. He’d been gone for so long, Caitrina had begun to wonder whether he was ever coming back. And just her luck, he’d decided to do so when she was visiting her brothers in the caves.
Brian had shown some signs of improvement, but Caitrina wanted desperately to get him to Rothesay. Niall, however, was being stubborn. No matter how much she argued, she could not convince him that Jamie would not toss them in the dungeon or, worse, serve them up to Argyll.
Her slippers tapped on the cold gray limestone as she navigated the narrow staircase. Upon reaching the top floor, she crossed the corridor toward their chamber and paused for a moment to catch her breath and mutter a quick prayer that he hadn’t been here long enough to search the keep.
Her step faltered as she walked through the doorway. A rush of emotion swelled over her as she took in the familiar tall, muscular form. Though she might fear his questions, there was no denying how relieved she was to see him safe and in one piece. The danger of his occupation was never far from her mind. Nor was the rampant hatred of the Campbells that made him a constant—and prized—target.