Page 168 of Highland Spy

When all the men had gone still, Connor let his arm fall in limp exhaustion, as did the women around him. He turned to them and found each one still standing—with a few scratches and cuts, but standing nonetheless.

“I’m so verra proud of the lot of ye.” He grinned at them and stared at each one in turn before finally letting his gaze fall on Ariana.

There was a cut on her cheek, where a couple drops of blood had chased one another down to her jaw, and a red circle of blood showed on the upper arm of her sleeve. But she was alive.

And she was safe.

“Connor.” A male voice boomed through the great hall before Connor could speak to Ariana, before he could even pull her into his arms.

He surveyed the crush of those standing and those fallen until he saw who had spoken. A tall man with dark hair and a far too familiar face.

Kenneth Gordon.

It was Kenneth who had come to his rescue.

“I believe ye might want to see this,” Kenneth said, nodding to where Connor had built a false wall in the large, open room.

Connor approached, and found Delilah with King James’s neck locked in the crook of her elbow. A blade glinted at his neck.

“Now’s yer chance,” Kenneth said, nodding toward the king. “For freedom.”

Chapter 40

“I dinna want to kill him.” Connor didn’t take his eyes off where Delilah held the king trapped with her elbow and her blade. “But I do want my freedom.”

“Granted,” the king said readily. His hat had disappeared and a tuft of his auburn hair jutted up on the side. “I’ll give you Urquhart back and release you of your debt to me.”

“My debt to ye?” Connor spit. “The debt ye led me to believe I owed.” He pulled in a long, slow breath for patience. “I can still kill ye.”

“It’d cause a war,” King James said with a snide grin.

“Aye,” Connor conceded. “One many Highlanders would want and one ye wouldna care about because ye’d be dead.”

The king shrank back against Delilah, who removed her blade and pushed him away from her. But it wasn’t Connor’s words which frightened the king. It was Ariana.

She had appeared beside Connor, as if she could not stay away. And truly he was grateful, for he wanted her by his side, not just in this moment of victory, but for the rest of his life.

“If you ever try to hurt Connor,” Ariana said in a threatening tone, “I’ll find you, and I will kill you.”

“And if ye ever try to accuse her of witchcraft, I’ll kill ye myself.” Connor stared hard at the king. “It doesna matter what shadow ye hide under, how many guards ye have protecting ye or how safe ye think ye are. I’ll always find ye.”

The king’s face paled and the line of his mouth almost disappeared from view.

“And if ye try to harm either one of them,” Kenneth said, “ye’ll have a war on yer hands between the Highlands and England. And I dinna think yer men would stand a chance against Highlanders.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the fallen English soldiers. “The Grants have the protection of the Gordons and all our allies as well.”

Connor turned to Kenneth and gave him a grateful nod. “Thank ye.”

Kenneth lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Our clans are united now.” He raised his brows at Connor. “Through marriage.”

Cora.

A brotherly kick of protection slammed into Connor.

Kenneth must have expected Connor’s reaction, because he put up his hand and spoke in a calm voice. “She came to me.” He turned toward the entrance of the great hall and nodded. Cora strode out from around the corner. She wore a fine arisaid with a kerchief atop her brown hair.

His sister, a wife.

Connor drew in a breath at the sight. He beckoned her closer and she obeyed, marching forward with her back straight and proud.