Despite the cold edge to the air and the fact that the sun had set nearly an hour past, Reid wiped sweat from his brow with his shirt sleeve.

He lifted his fingers to his mouth and whistled, halting his warriors’ sparring.

Bluish gray gloaming had allowed them to continue training even as the snow had begun to fall lightly, but now it was getting dark enough that they risked injuring each other with an inaccurate jab of the pike or swing of the sword. Besides, the flakes were coming thicker, coating the training grounds with a dusting of slippery white snow.

“We’ll resume in the morning, unless the snow has other ideas,” he said to the men.

As they began filing into the great hall, good-naturedly ribbing each other over this or that defeat or victory in practice, Reid fell in behind them with a smile. Aye, he was glad to go inside for a warm meal with the men, but more than that, he was eager to see Corinne.

The servants were just placing steaming trenchers on the trestle tables when he stepped into the hall. His gaze went to the dais, but Corinne’s seat was empty. She must be hard at work in the solar yet again. Reid’s blood coursed warmly. He was more than happy to join her there—and mayhap enjoy a different sort of feast.

Grinning, he climbed the stairs, but when he entered the solar, it was empty, as was their chamber. Disappointed, he returned to the hall. Seanad passed him on her way to a seat at one of the tables.

“Have ye seen Corinne?” he asked.

Seanad’s dark blonde brows drew together. “No’ for a few hours, Laird,” she replied. “She was in the solar, I believe, and then I saw her pass through the hall with Gellis.”

Where could she have been headed? Besides her tour of the castle with Wallace, Corinne hadn’t spent any time in the other watch towers—she’d had no reason to.

As if conjured by his thoughts, Reid’s gaze landed on Wallace, who sat at one of the tables with Hamond, Alain, and a few others.

“Wallace,” Reid said, approaching the table. “Did ye happen to see Corinne go into one of the other towers this afternoon?”

Wallace stood formally, his tall, thin frame unfolding from the bench. “She didnae go into the towers, Laird, but I did see her cross the yard to the sea gate. She and Gellis went to the village a few hours past.”

“What?” Despite his best efforts to remain calm, unease pricked along the back of Reid’s neck. She hadn’t left the castle since their wedding day.

A terrible thought drifted up from a dark corner of his mind. What if she’d slipped away with the intention of escaping him?

Nay, he told himself firmly, discarding the idea. He would have believed before they spoke their vows that she might try to flee, but not now. They’d shared too much. She’d told him she loved him.

“Forgive me, Laird,” Wallace said, his chin drawing back in mortification at the edge in Reid’s tone. “I watched her go from the northwest tower, but I didnae try to stop her. I didnae realize I was no’ to allow her to—”

“Nay, Wallace,” he said, distractedly trying to soothe his proud seneschal’s ruffled feathers. “Ye did naught wrong. Corinne is free to come and go as she pleases. I am only surprised she hasnae returned yet.”

The truth was, he couldn’t fathom why she would go to the village in the first place, let alone why she hadn’t come back before nightfall—especially now that the weather had broken and snow fell steadily. Mayhap he was overreacting. Still, he wouldn’t take any chances with her wellbeing.

“I’m going to the village.”

“I’ll go with ye,” Alain said, rising from the bench.

“And I,” Leith said.

“And I,” Hamond added, rising a bit slower than the younger men.

Reid wished he hadn’t already sent Cedrick to the MacDonnell border, for he wouldn’t mind having another warrior with him. Then again, he didn’t need a war party to descend on the village and cause alarm when Corinne was likely just visiting the shops.

With a nod to his men, he hurried upstairs to sling a cloak around his shoulders. When he returned to the hall, the three stood ready and waiting for him with their cloaks—and their swords belted to their waists. Though he wore his as well, he prayed he wouldn’t need it. Still, his men could no doubt sense his unease and had prepared accordingly.

Timothy was waiting outside the sea gate, just as much a guard on duty against boats approaching the island as he was an oarsman. The normally stoic man blinked in surprise as Reid and the others strode toward him through the snow.

“Did ye transport my wife and her lady’s maid to the shore, Timothy?” Reid asked as they shoved off from the little beach.

“Aye, Laird,” Timothy replied.

“And did they say where they were going?”

“Nay, Laird.”

Reid let out a frustrated breath. “Did aught seem…amiss?”

Timothy thought for a moment. One of the reasons Reid had assigned the man to be the castle oarsman was because he was just as watchful as he was quiet. As the rower of the sole sanctioned transport between the village and the castle, Timothy had a great responsibility. He was always alert for suspicious behavior, and he likely knew quite a bit more about his charges than they realized.

“Lady Corinne was at ease, Laird,” Timothy said at last. “Though Gellis was sweating despite the cold.”

Sharp apprehension stabbed Reid in the gut. Something wasn’t right.

“Did ye see which direction they went when they got to the village?”

“Aye, Laird,” Timothy said as he rowed faster, clearly sensing Reid’s fear. “Down the main road, toward the kirk.”

The moment they bumped into the dock, Reid leapt from the boat, the others close behind him. “We’ll check the kirk first,” he said, striding over the snow-dusted planks.

But when they reached the modest church, it was dark and quiet inside, with no sign of Corinne. Reid found Father Ewan taking a simple meal in his private chambers attached to the back of the chapel.

“Did Corinne come here, Father?” he demanded, no longer able to muster a polite tone.

Father Ewan blinked at the four warriors filling his wee chamber.

“Nay, Laird,” he replied, shaking his head. “I havenae seen Lady Corinne since yer wedding day.”

With a muttered apology, Reid stormed out of the church and into the cold night.

“Fan out,” he snapped. “Sweep each street leading to or from the kirk. If we dinnae find her, we’ll start knocking on doors.”

With curt nods, Alain, Leith, and Hamond each took a direction and began moving away from the church. Reid ducked into a nearby alley, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he strode through the narrow, dim pathway.

All too soon, he reached a dead end. Muttering a curse under his breath, Reid turned to retrace his steps, but something on the ground caught his eye. He bent down, lifting a strip of red and green plaid from the snow.

A MacDonnell plaid.

It could be naught, for a few MacDonnells lived on Mackenzie land—Gellis, for one. Yet Reid’s instincts told him something was amiss, and this was part of it.

He whistled, and in a moment, his men came running around the corner.

“Did ye find her?” Alain panted, his breath puffing white.

“Nay,” Reid said, holding up the torn plaid. “But I found this.”

The men came closer. “What the hell is a MacDonnell plaid doing lying around next to the kirk?” Hamond asked. “And why would—”

Glancing down, Hamond knocked snow off his boot. And froze.

Reid’s gaze followed Hamond’s. Though it was dark in the alley, he could make out something bright lying in the snow next to Hamond’s boot.

Reid crouched, scooping up the snow to eye the little red slash across it.

As realization hit him, it was as if the ground had opened up and Reid was falling, falling straight into the mouth of hell.

There was no mistaking that color.

“This is…” he began, his throat so tight that he had to swallow before continuing. “This is a lock of Corinne’s hair.”

Reid stood slowly, the blood roaring in his ears and his vision narrowing to the two objects in his hands—a scrap of MacDonnell plaid and a piece of Corinne’s hair. Someone had hurt her. Someone might be hurting her now.

His lips curled back into an involuntary snarl as his hands closed into fists.

“To the stables,” he hissed. “We ride for MacDonnell land.”

“Laird,” Alain said, his voice a warning. When Reid pushed past him, Alain caught his arm and spun him around. “Reid!”

He drew himself out of the storm breaking inside him long enough to meet Alain’s gaze. His friend’s eyes were clouded with worry, his light brown brows lowered.

“This could be a trap,” Alain said, keeping his voice even.

“I dinnae fucking care!” Reid roared. “I’m going after her.”

“And we are going with ye,” Alain said, gripping Reid’s arm tighter. “But try to think, man. We are at peace with the MacDonnells. Why would they take Corinne? And what kind of kidnapper leaves a lock of hair and a scrap of kilt to be found after he’s gone?”

“How the bloody hell should I ken,” Reid snapped. “Ye’re wasting time. Every moment we stand here talking, Corinne could be—” He choked on his next words, all rational thought shattering at the idea of her being in danger—or dead already.

“We should contact Laird MacDonnell,” Hamond said. “Or at least gather more men.”

Reid barely managed to repress another bellow of frustration. “There isnae time,” he rasped. “Even now the snow is covering any tracks or other signs there may be.”

Leith at last spoke up. “Then we need to ride now,” he said, his young face hard-set.

“Aye,” Reid said, jerking free of Alain’s hold. “Do what ye like, but I’m going.”

Only the briefest hesitation flickered in Alain’s eyes before he set his jaw and nodded to Reid. “Trap or nay, I’m with ye.”

Without waiting another moment, Reid bolted in the direction of the stables. He burst inside, the other three close behind him, making the sleepy stable lad watching the animals start awake.

At Reid’s sharp orders, the lad hurried to help the men saddle and bridle their horses, then held the stable door open for them as they rode out into the night.

When they reached the northern edge of the village, Reid reined in his horse. Though the clouds were thick overhead, the moon was nearly full behind them, casting a diffuse silver-blue light across the sparkling blanket of snow stretching before them.

“There,” Alain said, pointing ahead. Reid squinted, just making out a trailing row of divots beneath the fresh snow.

Without hesitation, Reid spurred his horse into motion, plunging them into the night.

He would find Corinne, and he would make whoever had taken her pay. He vowed it.