“Nay,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “He threatened… but ye came before he could do more.”
James exhaled, relief crashing over him so powerfully it left him unsteady. “I swear to ye, Eloise, nay one will ever touch ye again. Nae while I draw breath.”
She looked up at him, her expression soft but searching. “Ye risked everythin' for me… why?”
He stilled, the question striking deeper than any blade, yet the answer rose without resistance.
“Because I cannae bear to see harm come to ye,” he said quietly. “I tried to tell meself this was only duty… only protection… but it isnae.”
Eloise’s breath caught, her fingers tightening in his tunic. “James…”
For a moment, she said nothing, only stared at him as though seeing him anew.
Then she leaned into him, her forehead resting against his chest. “Thank ye,” she whispered.
James closed his eyes, holding her tighter, the chaos of battle and fear finally giving way to something deeper, steadier.
Eloise, me lass. Mine now and until the end of time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The gates of Castle Calibroch opened to the thunder of hooves, and the courtyard swelled with life as the riders returned. Word had spread like wildfire, and the clan gathered in a great mass, voices rising in relief and triumph at the sight of Eloise alive.
James barely noticed them, though he heard the cheers, his focus fixed entirely on the woman seated before him. As he dismounted, he turned and lifted her down as though she weighed nothing, his hands firm and unwilling to let her go.
“Easy now,” he said.
The moment her feet touched the ground, the crowd parted, and Beatrice came rushing forward with a cry.
“Eloise!” Beatrice flung herself into her cousin’s arms, her voice breaking as she clutched her tight.
“Bea,” Eloise whispered, her own voice trembling as she returned the embrace. “I’m here… I’m safe.”
“I thought I had lost ye…again,” Beatrice said through tears, pulling back only to grasp her face as if to assure herself she was real. “Daenae ever frighten me like this. I cannae handle another disappearance.”
Eloise gave a weak, tearful laugh. “I shall try me best.”
Fiona pushed her way through next, eyes wide with worry. “Miss Eloise!” she cried, wrapping her arms around her without hesitation. “I was that afeared for ye, I couldnae sleep a wink.”
“Thank ye, Fiona,” Eloise said, touched, returning the embrace gently. “Ye are too kind.”
James stepped forward then, his voice cutting through the noise with quiet authority. “Fiona.”
The maid turned at once. “Aye, me Laird?”
“Have a bath drawn and food brought to Miss Eloise’s chamber. At once.”
“Aye, me Laird,” she said.
“I'll help,” Beatrice said.
James bent and lifted Eloise into his arms once more, holding her securely against his chest.
“James,” she said softly, startled, her hand coming to rest against his shoulder.
“I willnae hear yer protest,” he replied, already striding toward the keep. “I’ll take care of ye.”
She looked up at him, something warm and uncertain in her eyes. “Ye neednae carry me everywhere, ye ken.”
