Page 62 of In Bed with a Highland Brute

“What past is that?” she whispered softly. “Murdoch, ye ken all my secrets.” She moved toward him on the wall, coming so close that their hips brushed together. He could feel his length stirring, wanting her. “Is it so bad tae ask tae ken one of yers?”

“Nay.” He sighed, knowing it was the truth. It was only just like her to ask such a question.

“So, tell me something, tell me the truth,” she pleaded. “What about yer past made ye pull away that morning?”

It is complicated tae explain.

He parted his lips, ready to say something when a bell rang in the distance. He jerked his head toward it, recognizing it at once.

“What is that?” Eloise asked, her gaze following his own in the darkness toward the castle walls and the portcullis.

“It’s the guard’s bell. We’re under attack.” Murdoch stepped back from the wall and took her hand. “Come on.” She jumped down off the wall to follow him and they hurried back into the room.

The pipers were no longer playing, they had frozen, they stood completely still, as were many of the dancers, all looking around with equally bemused looks on their faces. At the top table, Fergus stood from his seat, his hands planted on the table.

“What is going on? Guards? Tell me something. Give me a report.”

Three guards burst through the great hall’s door, one bumping into another in their haste. Their faces were red from having run up from the curtain wall.

“Me laird!” one of the guards called. “It’s soldiers. They’ve been seen approaching through the village. They’ve set fire tae one of the guard towers.”

“What standard do they fly? What emblem? Tell me,” Fergus urged, his voice deep.

“It is the Douglas clan emblem, me laird.” The guard’s answer had many around the room panicking, a commotion beginning as friends looked toward one another in fear.

Murdoch’s hand tightened around Eloise’s own, determined to keep her safe.

“The Douglas clan?” she whispered. “What dae they want here?”

“A young upstart of a laird who wishes tae make his mark on Scotland by going tae war,” Murdoch hastened to explain to her, dragging her through the great hall as many scrambled to leave.

“Men! Soldiers! Gather at once!” Fergus’ voice boomed. “We must be ready. The ladies and children can stay in the dining room at the back of the castle. It is easier tae guard. Quickly now.” He clapped his hands, urging everyone to take action.

Murdoch drew Eloise toward the top table where his father was as the others gathered there as well. Clyde stood with a pale-looking Harper beside him and Beatrice attending behind her. Avery and Ian moved to Murdoch’s side, their familiar hardened expressions from battle reappearing, as Callie and Aila moved forward too.

“Murdoch, take yer friends. Lead a way tae the portcullis. If the Douglas clan breaks through there, they’ll have an easy path tae the keep.”

“Aye.” Murdoch nodded, turning to his friends who were already making a plan to retrieve their weapons.

“Clyde, lead the guards to the curtain walls and take the orders for the archers.”

“Aye, Father.” Clyde walked past Murdoch. The two of them clasped their forearms momentarily, nodding to each other. It was a silent gesture they’d often used before battle, one of encouragement, of brothers fighting together, then Clyde was gone, hurrying off to his post.

“Ladies, please, keep yerselves safe. I must lead me men in front of the keep.” Fergus reached for the sword in his belt while Murdoch moved to his father’s side and took his shoulder, grasping at the opportunity to talk to his father in a low whisper, so no other could hear.

“Ye said before, Father, that ye were weary of battle. Are ye ready for this?” Murdoch asked in a low tone. “Nae one would blame ye if ye werenae.”

Fergus winked at him, a sudden smile on his features.

“I am nae the man I was, but I’ll be damned if I dinnae stand before my clan and the castle, defending them from a tyrant like this Douglas upstart. Trust me, me son.” Fergus clapped him on the arm. “Look tae yerself, and I’ll look tae me.”

As Fergus walked off, Murdoch turned to see the ladies were arguing with Ian and Avery.

“Nay, Callie,” Avery said firmly. “Ye are nae going intae a battle.”

“Calm yer blood, ye fool,” Eloise said before Callie could argue back. “We’re talking of helping Wilson, the healer. Nae of going tae battle.” She turned to face Murdoch. “We will be of use. We willnae cower in corners.”

Murdoch held himself back from pulling her into an embrace. The determined way in which she had spoken was inspiring indeed, and even as Avery complained against the idea, he nodded.