"We figured as much. Collin's well known for his upstanding behavior. God knows we never thought he'd be the one to steal a duke's bonny sister from beneath his nose."
The Kirkland men laughed uproariously, none noticing the look that passed between Collin and Alex. Collin nodded, glad they'd focused on him and not Alexandra. He tried to smile in her direction, but she had looked away already, still chewing her lip.
"Collin," James boomed into the now quiet room, "Will ye come take a look at my new mount? Damned if I can afford one of your get, but I think he's a fine one all the same."
He glanced at his wife to find her scooted forward in her seat to whisper secrets with Jeannie. Probably discussing the true story of the hasty courtship. He wondered what she'd told her new friend.
"Collin?"
"Aye. Let's go."
He made a conscious decision not to glance over his shoulder when he walked away. She would be here when he returned.
Chapter 18
She was missing, and where the hell had she gone? Collin glared over the room, probing dark corners with his eyes as if she might be crouched there like a hunting cat. He'd been gone not a half hour for God's sake, and thinking of her every moment and now she was missing. She and Fergus both. Only Jeannie and her brothers sat there— Jeannie in a snit over something and the men ignoring her.
Collin stalked into the kitchen without a word, anger already overriding his good sense. "Is my wife here?" Mrs. Cook and the two maids froze and frowned at him. There were no hidey-holes in the room after all. "Never mind."
He stalked back to the great hall, walking right past Jeannie's outstretched hand. He glanced toward the door, then toward the alcove of the stairway. Rebecca hung back in the shadows, one foot on the first step as she waved him over.
"Collin," she breathed, pulling him close. He tilted his head down, eyes straining up the stairs. "May I . . . ? I haven't known if I should speak of this . . ."
"What?"
"I do not think it appropriate that your lady should . . . Oh, I must hold my tongue."
"Speak, Rebecca." He was amazed that he could push the words out past the burning in his throat.
"It's just that I see them alone so often. I know they are friends, but they should not sneak off together like that."
"Sneak off?"
"I don't. . . Yes."
A smoldering fire flared to life in his chest. Oh, God. Let it not be so. His foot took the first step, and the other followed, though he tried to make it stop.
"No, not up there, Collin. Here." Her fingers made a hesitant motion toward the narrow door to her left. It had once led to a chapel and now led to nothing but a rubble-strewn portion of the yard. What business would anyone have there?
No business at all, some beast inside him crowed, but pleasure.
Collin jerked his head at Rebecca and she scurried up the stairs to disappear above. He wanted no witness to this mess. Bad enough if he had to see it.
His hand touched the door and flattened against the wood. Odd that he felt nothing beneath his fingers. The door swung open without a sound, revealing nothing but the trees beyond the yard and the stars above. Collin stepped to the threshold, hesitated.
A man's voice floated through the night. "No, Alex."
"But—"
"It canna be."
"Oh, Fergus. Why must you be so stubborn? I've seen you looking—"
"No!"
Footsteps crunched away, nearly running through the frozen grass. His wife cursed under her breath.
Collin reeled. I've seen you looking, she'd said. And hadn't she said that very thing to him? I've seen you watching me. Oh, and he had been. He had.