She tried to put Keegan from her mind and sleep, but he walked into her dreams and taunted her with smoldering kisses.
She hoped she did not talk in her sleep.
∞∞∞
The next morn after breaking their fast, Keegan and the whole of the MacKay party proceeded the short distance to the docks on foot, the guards surrounding the women and their injured chief. Several of the guards had already scouted the village, looking for the outlaws, and seen naught.
Seona’s hand rested securely at the crook of Keegan’s elbow as they walked along the cobbled street. Feeling protective and ’haps a wee bit possessive, he placed his hand over hers and scanned their surroundings—the mix of gray stone and whitewashed buildings, the green hills, and Loch Broom reflecting the cloud-flecked blue sky.
Linden MacKenzie, Isobel’s cousin and the owner of the manor house, had arranged passage for them on one of his merchant ships, a galleon large enough to transport them and some of their horses. The rest of their mounts would be stabled here until the MacKays’ return in a few weeks.
Keegan hoped the weather would hold so they could reach Dornie before nightfall. He would breathe a lot easier when everyone was out of danger.
What dampened his mood was the pain Dirk was in, even though he tried not to show it. Two of his men, one under each arm, helped him board the ship while Isobel looked on with a worried frown.
Keegan surveyed the area again, especially the stone-dotted green hills around the northern and eastern edges of the village. Haldane and his men had a habit of hiding on hilltops and raining down arrows.
MacMillan carried Lady Patience on board. She and four of the MacKay guards were prone to seasickness, and this was one reason they’d traveled overland thus far. Also, none of the MacKaybirlinns or galleys was large enough to accommodate their entire party plus horses. But now they needed to reach Isobel’s brother’s keep, Teasairg Castle, as soon as possible for everyone’s safety and so a healer could treat Dirk’s leg.
Keegan escorted Seona to the small, wood-framed captain’scabin, where the women would remain until they reached their destination. When Seona’s gaze met his for that brief moment, he saw glimpses of secret yearnings in her eyes. He hoped they were the same yearnings he had. After what she’d said last night, he believed they were. He gave her a brief smile and took his leave.
On deck, he and the other guards kept an eye out for enemies until the ship sailed out of the harbor. Maybe Haldane and the few men he had left were off licking their wounds.
Keegan was thankful the sky remained clear most of the day with no severe weather in sight. The gentle but persistent wind in the galleon’s giant white sails propelled them the fifty or so miles south, between the Scottish mainland and the Hebrides. At first, the islands and their jagged mountains were hazy blue in the distance, but once they sailed closer, the green hills speckled with white sheep and black cattle were clear. He recognized the largest of these islands, Isle of Skye, for he’d visited a few years ago with Da and Uncle Griff, the former chief.
Keegan wished Seona could join him on deck so he could point out the picturesque mountain ranges, the Red Cuillins and the Black Cuillins, but ’twas much safer for her to remain inside the cabin.
The sun was low in the sky when the oarsmen paddled through a few narrow straits and along Loch Alsh. Keegan was glad they were almost to their destination with no sign of trouble. Of course, this was only a stopover, for he was tasked with taking Lady Seona home. A sinking dread settled into his gut.
The ship anchored just off shore from Teasairg Castle, in the middle of the loch, and they took smaller boats to the sea gate. Keegan, Seona, Dirk, Isobel, three guards and an oarsman were in the second boat.
Once they docked and the sea gate opened, Dirk hobbled up the narrow stone steps under his own power. The guards and Isobel followed. Keegan made sure he could catch Seona if she stumbled on the uneven steps. At the top, Dirk was breathing hard and his face was ashen. Although he wasn’t moaning in pain, Keegan knew he was feeling it.
Chief Cyrus MacKenzie, frowning darkly, and his brothers, met them in the cobblestone bailey.
Cyrus eyed Dirk’s lower leg below his plaid. “Saints! What on earth happened?”
“Arrow through the calf,” Dirk said. “’Twas one of Haldane’s men. We had a couple of skirmishes during our travels.”
“Show them up to Isobel’s chamber,” Cyrus told the maid standing nearby, then he turned to one of his men. “Go find the healer and send her to Isobel’s room.”
“Aye, m’laird.”
Isobel briefly greeted her brothers while the rest of their party disembarked from the small two-oared boats. Two guards helped Dirk across the bailey and toward the entrance to the keep.
Leaving Seona with Isobel and Patience, who were surrounded by several MacKay guards, Keegan followed Dirk and the two men into the corner of the almost empty great hall. He trailed after them up the narrow turnpike stair and into Isobel’s old chamber to make sure the room was safe.
The maid rushed to the small hearth to start a fire while the two guards helped Dirk into the large bed. He sank into what had to be a thick featherbed. Even if Keegan hadn’t known this was Isobel’s bedchamber from when she was a lass, the lacy curtains and abundance of floral embroidered pillows would’ve made it clear.
“I thank you, lads,” Dirk mumbled, his words slurred.
“M’laird.” One of the guards dipped his head. “We’ll wait in the corridor.”
“Uh-huh,” Dirk grunted, his eyes closed.
“How much whisky have you had?” Keegan asked.
“Enough.” Dirk forced a grin but his face was sweaty and pale from the exertion and pain.
