Page 33

“ Y e should rest, Me Lady,” Talia advised, coming to sit beside her on the sofa. “It has been a long day.”

Mabel shook her head, staring listlessly into the fire in the grate. “I cannae, Talia,” she mumbled. “I cannae rest until I see me boys.”

Talia’s eyes went wide, then she lowered them.

Mabel would have wondered at her strange behavior, but concern for Ollie and Connor far outweighed anything she may have noticed.

Though she had promised her husband she would eat and try to sleep, the tray he had had sent up to her remained untouched. And though she had lain in bed to induce sleep, she was unable to close her eyes, not with the image of sweet Poppy on the ground burned into her memory like a hot brand.

Her worry over what harsh treatment the boys would receive kept her from giving in to the exhaustion that plagued her mind and body.

How could a day that should have gone well end so badly?

Even though she had awoken feeling numb as she had since the night of Laird McCormick’s visit, the day had promised to be good, since she had fewer tasks and more time to spend with the boys.

They had improved greatly in their reading, and she had opted to use one of the stories she had favored as a child instead of the books Talia had recommended. She had granted the girl a day of rest and had been enjoying having the boys to herself.

Campbell’s presence had been unexpected, and his suggestion even more so. But while she should have been happy, all she could think of was the last night he had been in her chambers and the realization that, despite his intentions, she had fallen for him.

The embarrassment of that fact haunted her and had her avoiding him all week, even during meals.

“The Laird willnae be happy to see ye like this,” Talia urged. “At least lie down. Ye look verra pale. ‘Tis already late into the night. Ye should keep yer strength for when the boys are found.”

Mabel knew the governess meant well, but irritation bubbled up inside her. Couldn’t they just understand her grief?

She was supposed to be keeping an eye on the boys, knowing that they were in danger, yet she indulged in frivolity, and now they were captured and possibly hurt.

Still, she hoped that her husband would at least return with positive news about the boys or with them, even.

“Me Lady, ye should?—”

“Dinnae presume to stop me grieving, Talia. Ye are…”

Mabel had been about to dismiss the governess when she heard the faint sound of horses’ hooves in the courtyard. She stood up quickly and donned a robe over her nightdress before rushing out to the courtyard, where she found her husband dismounting his horse.

He was startled to see her, but was quick to adjust. He had a guilty look on his face, but he didn’t scold her.

“Ye shouldnae be out here in the cold, wife,” he said, walking up to her as soon as he handed the reins to a stablehand. “I told ye to rest. ‘Tis already late. Where is Talia? I asked her to watch ye.”

“She tried, but I couldnae sleep. I’ve been waiting for news,” she answered. “Me mind and body are filled with worry for the boys. I keep wondering whether they are well. I cannae sleep.”

Campbell sighed and pulled her close, wrapping her in his warmth.

His eyes were shadowed, and he looked defeated, betraying the words he hadn’t yet told her.

“Ye didnae find anything?” she asked calmly, trying not to show the grief welling up inside her.

Hot tears pooled in her eyes and spilled over when he shook his head with a grimace.

“Oh, me boys,” she cried into his chest.

She knew her behavior was improper—she was the lady of the clan, after all—but she was past the point of caring.

Campbell pulled her closer, rubbing soothing circles on her back as her sobs grew louder.

“I apologize for?—”

“Ye have nothing to apologize for,” he murmured. “Yer tears dinnae offend me.”

“I just fear for the lads. Is there a ransom note?” she asked.

“Nay one saw much today,” he answered. “They remembered a stranger, but nay one saw when the boys were taken.”

Mabel gasped, collapsing into him.

“Who would do this?” she gasped, unable to think of anyone who would kidnap the boys.

She looked up at her husband, only to find his face as hard as flint, unyielding, as though he had an idea who would do something so terrible.

“We should return to yer chambers, where ‘tis warm,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

She followed behind him in a daze, still unable to process the fact that the boys were gone.

As they passed by their corridor, tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to imagine how scared they must have been and how worried they were that no one was coming for them.

They had already endured watching their parents die; could they endure so much more trauma?

When Campbell opened the door to her chamber, she heaved a sigh and stepped inside.

The air between them was charged with many unspoken thoughts, but her husband’s posture betrayed his unwillingness to speak.

“I am sorry for behaving rashly—” She broke off on a sneeze.

Campbell turned to her with a rueful smile on his face. “It seems that me wife has caught a chill.”

A flush of embarrassment crawled up her face as she moved to the bed.

Campbell stoked the fire and turned to her. “Ye should try to get some sleep, wife,” he told her. “‘Tis late.”

“I cannae…”

“Dinnae argue with me.” He smiled, pulling back the covers so she could crawl underneath.

She obliged with a pout on her lips.

Instantly, feeling returned to her toes, and a blissful exhaustion overtook her. She instantly felt guilty for being so warm when she didn’t even know how the boys were faring.

Her face fell again as tears pooled in her eyes.

“I failed to protect them,” she sniffled. “I promised Layla I would take care of them. I promised ye, and I?—”

“’Tis nae yer fault, wife. ‘Tis mine,” he interrupted her.

His tone indicated that he was blaming himself for more than what had just happened, and when she turned to him, she saw that his hands had gone white from how hard he was gripping the covers.

She placed a hand on his, hoping to offer some comfort.

“How is it yer fault?” she asked with a frown. “The boys have a habit of running around.”