Page 91 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“Ye’ve settled in well, Iona,” Niamh said warmly, as she took a bite from the cheese she held. “I’m glad tae see ye so at ease here.”

Iona smiled, though there was a flicker of unease in her eyes. “Aye, I’ve grown fond of this place. Yer kindness... everyone’s, has made it easier.”

The warm scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meats filled the air in the great hall of Castle MacDuff. Ruaridh sat beside Iona, their shared laughter mingling with the soft clatter of utensils.

Alistair sat across from them and smiled at the couple. Niamh beamed with quiet satisfaction, her presence a constant comfort.

It had been a long time since Ruaridh had felt that relaxed. The warmth of the fire in the hearth, the easy conversation, and the soft hum of the castle’s morning routine had brought a sense of peace tae his heart. He glanced at Iona, noticing how her eyes lingered on the windows, as if waiting for something. He knew exactly what was on her mind, news from the king’s castle on whether the case against Murray had been established or dismissed.

Ruaridh watched her for a moment, but didn’t press her about the tension he sensed. Instead, he nudged her gently. “Ye’ll be a fine lady of this castle, Iona. Ye duties will suit ye.”

She returned his smile, though the shadow still clung to her. “I just wish... I could ken fer sure that we’ve seen the last of MacNab. I wonder if he’s gone tae the king yet tae answer fer his lies.”

Ruaridh leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening slightly. “The king will handle Murray. He’s nay longer our problem.” He met his father’s gaze, seeking Alistair’s reassurance. His father gave him a solemn nod, though his furrowed brow indicated that the matter wasn’t quite as settled in his mind.

“Then why dae I still feel uncomfortable?” Iona’s voice wavered slightly. “As though this is far from over.”

Before Ruaridh could respond, the heavy door to the hall burst open. A young guard entered, breathless, his face pale with urgency.

“Me lairds! Me ladies,” the guard bowed slightly, gasping as his words split out fast. “A scout on the rooftop has caught a glimpse of men in the woods. Many men. They’ve hidden themselves well, but it’s nay mistake. The castle is surrounded.”

The room froze. Ruaridh’s instincts kicked in, and before anyone could speak, he jumped to his feet, his chair scraping across the stone floor.

“It can only be Murray,” he said, his voice cold with realization. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as his mind raced.

Iona’s face drained of color, and Niamh rose from her seat, her movements quick and deliberate. Iona stood, backing away from the table, her chair falling with a loud crash behind her. “He’s here fer me,” she gasped, her voice shaking. “He willnae give up. I’ve humiliated him before the king... He’ll never stop.”

Ruaridh moved toward her in a few swift strides, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “Iona, ye need tae be calm. Dae as I say. Go with Maither.” He turned to Niamh. “Maither. I need ye both tae be safe. Take her tae the underground stone shelter. Now.”

Iona’s eyes were wide, panic beginning to take root, but Ruaridh’s voice remained steady.

Niamh stepped forward, nodding gravely. “Come, Iona. We must be quick.”

Iona didn’t resist, but as she moved toward the door, she glanced back at Ruaridh. There was a quiet resolve in her gaze, but it was tempered by fear. “Be careful,” she whispered.

“I will,” Ruaridh replied. He turned to his father, his expression firm. “Faither, ye need tae stay back. Ye’re too old tae fight. Go with Maither and Iona. Protect them.”

Alistair stood, his face etched with both pride and defiance. “I willnae sit idly by while me clan is threatened.” His voice was strong, but there was a hint of weariness in his eyes.

“Faither—” Ruaridh started to argue, but his mother interjected.

“Let him fight if he wishes, Ruaridh,” Niamh said, her tone soft but firm. “He is the Laird of this clan.”

Ruaridh’s eyes flicked to his father once more, then back to Iona. His gaze hardened. “Then let’s make sure this ends quickly.”

Niamh gave her husband one last glance. “Promise me, Alistair,” she said softly. “Promise me ye’ll stay alive.”

Alistair’s face softened, and he crossed the distance, cupping her face gently. “I promise, Niamh.” He kissed her forehead before turning back to face Ruaridh.

As the door closed behind Niamh and Iona, Ruaridh’s mind sharpened. The castle had gone from calm to chaos in an instant. The sound of men rushing through the halls, weapons clanging, and horses being saddled filled the air.

At that moment, Duncan hurried into the room, his boots echoing on the stone floor. “What’s the command, me lord?”

Ruaridh’s mind was already racing, taking stock of everything he needed to do.

“Duncan, put as many men as possible tae guard Iona and me maither in the stone shelter.”