The Scot's Angel - Keira Montclair Page 0,19

me verra well over the years. I’ve also learned that when it comes to bones, the sooner the better.”

“Mama is still in much pain. She’s in Grandpapa’s chamber, sleeping.”

“’Tis a fine place for her. Take me to her, will you, my dear? Your sister is settling the horses.”

Claray spun around and led Aunt Jennie through the hall and straight to her mother. Her father, who’d sat by her mother’s bedside since the accident, bolted out of his chair. “My thanks for coming so quickly, Aunt Jennie. Can you help her?”

“I’ll do whatever I can, Connor.”

Claray backed up to the door. “May I get you anything, Auntie?”

“A bowl of broth would be lovely. Something to warm my bones. ’Tis getting quite chilly outside.”

Papa said, “Find her some bread and cheese with it, Claray.”

Happy to oblige them, she hurried out the door, pleased to see Aunt Kyla. “Papa wants broth and some bread or cheese for Aunt Jennie. I’m going to the kitchens.”

She was on her way there, when Dyna swung the door open and entered in a huff. “Oh, are you going to the kitchens? Something for me, too, please.”

“Dyna, have you seen Thorn?” She was so anxious, she had to ask about him as soon as possible or her heart would beat out of her chest.

“I’ll go to the kitchens,” Aunt Kyla said, following her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I wish to confer with Cook anyway. You visit with your sister, Claray.”

Filled with gratitude, she hugged her aunt impulsively before chasing after Dyna, who’d continued on to the hearth and stood warming herself. “Are the lassies sleeping?”

“Aye, I just put them down for their naps.” She stared at her sister, saying a quick prayer that Dyna would have good news, but the wee feeling in her gut told her she didn’t. “Have you seen him, Dyna?”

“Thorn? Nay. Why?”

“He left after the accident and hasn’t returned. No one has seen him yet. I don’t know what to do.” Though she tried to stop the constant wiping of her damp palms on her skirt, she failed horribly.

Dyna let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know what you can do, Claray. If Thorn doesn’t wish to be found, there are plenty of places in the Highlands for him to hide. We saw Loki’s group leaving, but we saw no one else, and Thorn was not with them.”

“Will you and Derric go look for him?”

“Claray, we just traveled harder than I’ve ridden since battle. I’m not going anywhere until the morrow. I want to kiss my lassies when they wake up. Could be he returned to Castle Curanta. If that’s the case, Loki will let you know, I’m sure. Give it a day or two.”

She hadn’t thought of that. It was certainly possible he’d headed straight back to his home because he was so upset over all that had transpired here. Claray nodded, knowing it made perfect sense, but it wasn’t what her heart told her to do.

Her heart told her to go to him.

But Dyna was right. She was no fighter or adventurer. There was little she could do, so she took herself to her tower room and gathered her drawing things. While her sister and many of her cousins preferred to practice at the archery field, her source of comfort was in drawing.

Her grandmama was the one who’d taught her to draw, a slow, painstaking process that Claray had reveled in. Grandmama had worked with her often, and the result of all that work showed. Every drawing she made was, in her heart, for her grandmamma. It was her way of thanking the woman who had made such a difference in her life. The woman who had, singlehandedly, plucked her from the arms of the men who had tormented her and used her against her mama.

Even though Madeline Grant was gone, she would live on in Claray’s heart forever.

Now Grandsire was gone too, and Claray missed him terribly. One of her goals this Yule was to draw a picture of him. She’d worked at it over and over, hoping to get it right, but he refused to be captured in a mere picture.

She worked on it for some time, so focused she had no notion of how much time was passing, when a knock on the door interrupted her work. “Enter.”

Aunt Jennie came in, carrying a small package wrapped in twine. “I brought you a wee gift.”

“How is Mama? Did you fix her?” She set her materials down in