Alexandra nodded and hugged Arran tightly. He held her for a moment, then let go, feeling her absence almost at once.
"Be safe," he urged. He turned to look at Rory. "Both of ye."
Rory grinned. "I'll keep her safe, never ye fear," he promised.
Alexandra mounted her own horse, and then, with a final smile and wave, the two McKenzies set out with their guards. Elsie moved to Arran's side and put her arm around them as they watched the horses disappear over the horizon. Rolland stood nearby, the kind of steady presence that made Arran glad his sister had found him.
"Let's go inside," Elsie said when the McKenzies had fully disappeared from view.
Arran nodded, and with one last wistful look, turned back to the castle. There was still so much work to be done.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Christopher had abandoned all he had ever known to come here, he had expected that happiness would stay with it. He was sure he'd be leaving the part of himself that enjoyed freedom and whimsy behind, and it had been a sacrifice he was willing to make for the sake of those he loved.
But for the first time since he had arrived, he felt a warm happiness that followed him in every step he took, protecting him against the chill of the night and giving him the kind of hope he hadn't ever dreamed he would find here. He wasn't alone here, not anymore. Finally, he had broken through Morag's shell, and what he'd found underneath was something he had been searching for his entire life.
He knew love better than most young men his age; growing up around Aila and Lachlan, Taryn and James, and Sorcha and Oliver, he saw what it was when couples truly adored each other. But that had always been forthem, bonds forged in tension and fighting and reclaiming their destiny. Christopher had never expected it would come forhim.
Arran and Alexandra's quiet, still unspoken and unacknowledged adoration for one another had been somethingdifferent, something inevitable. The wild adventurous love he saw when he met Rolland and saw him with Elsie had taken him by surprise, but though it suited his sister's spirit, Christopher had known then that he wasn't bound for that. He was not the easygoing, cheerful Rolland nor the dedicated, kind Arran. He was just Christopher.
Except… except now he'd found Morag, and she'd brought something out in him that he hadn't known was there. She'd encouraged a wildness in him, a yearning for wild desire that he knew she shared, and he'd found in her a hidden warrior woman waiting to break free. Far from the darkness she thought surrounded her, she was pure radiance when she allowed herself to shine, and every day that passed left Christopher more and more eager to be the cause of that light.
He didn't dare put a name to the feeling, not yet, but he knew for the first time that he could truly succeed—and he'd do it with Morag at his side. When he took her home to meet his family, when he showed her how the world could be, they'd have a future that was unstoppable.
Christopher knew that he should sleep, but as the sun rose in the sky, he was far too stimulated to rest. Instead, he stopped in his room only to change into fresh clothes then headed right down to the stables.
Ever since he was a boy, he'd whispered his secrets in Beatha's ear when he wasn't ready to share them with anyone else, even his parents and siblings. He hadn't done so in some time, but he was eager to go down and see his beloved horse today. While he was there, he could check on Splendor, too.
He wanted to make sure the McKenzies' horse was all right and perhaps even search the animal and his saddlebags for any clues about what might have happened to his rider. Most likely, he had been carrying scouts, not one of the family—Splendor was an excellent choice for long-distance missions.
Christopher entered the stable, whistling, and went straight to Beatha's stall. He smiled when he saw how well she was being looked after. Despite the cruelty of Alistair Campbell, many of his servants were here because they had little choice, and the stable master truly cared for the horses.
"Good mornin', lass," he said as she whinnied excitedly in greeting.
Beatha leaned over her stall, and he patted her snout then fed her a sugar lump he'd snuck out of the kitchens on his way past. He was about to start telling her about the night before when a voice surprised him, causing him to jump.
"Ye're here early."
Christopher spun to see Ian, of all people, standing by the stall where Splendor had been housed. The Kincaid horse was watching warily, his ears pointed with distrust, his lips pulled back across his teeth. Ian stood a little further back, watching the horse but clever enough not to move too close yet.
"Ye're here earlier," Christopher replied, relief and anxiety flooding through him in equal measure. He thought about what he'd been just about to reveal. Thankfully, Morag's secret remained safe. "Did ye come down tae check on Splendor?"
"Splendor?" Ian asked. "Is that his name? It's a suitable one. Though he doesnae seem tae like me very much."
Christopher patted Beatha again, then moved closer to Ian. "He's scared. Ye need tae be more calm as ye approach him. Imagine how ye'd feel in his place."
Ian frowned and tilted his head, but he didn't try to argue. "How do I do that? I've nae been aggressive."
"Relax yer body when ye get near him. Be firm, but gentle. Talk tae him, too; remember that he's a livin' thing, and nae a tool."
Christopher displayed what he meant by slowly approaching Splendor, whispering his name and soft, reassuring words as hewalked. Splendor eyed him nervously, but as Christopher got closer, the horse cautiously leaned forward.
Christopher didn't rush. He moved only a tiny part at a time, talking quietly the whole while, determined not to scare Splendor. At last, when he reached the very front of the stall, Splendor lowered his head and allowed Christopher to pat his nose. Christopher smiled in victory and praised Splendor a few times before slowly retreating and returning to Ian's side.
"Remarkable," Ian told him, sounding genuinely impressed. He spoke now with the friendliness he often had when they were alone, not with the rage of the heir he always put on when he was around other people. "Who'd have kent my wee brother Murdoch would be skilled with horses?"
With a small, awkward smile, Christopher said, "It's nae so hard. I'll show ye how tae tame him, if ye like."
