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“Well?” Lady Moira scoffed. “Ye took a nasty blow to the head and have scratches everywhere.” She beckoned over a maid holding a box of salves and bandages. “Let me see those⁠—”

“Auntie,” Alisdair cut in. “Ye neednae worry.” He looked down at Isla with a fond smile. “I will take care of me wife.”

His aunt opened her mouth to complain, but then seemed to notice the look on his face, for she smiled knowingly.

“Of course,” she said. “Isla should rest in yer room.”

Alisdair motioned for the maid to follow him as he carried Isla inside.

“Look at that,” Duncan chuckled. “I was wrong. He’s nae an idiot, after all.”

Alisdair threw him a warning look over his shoulder, but there was no heat in it.

The corridors were empty, silent, but this time the silence was not heavy with grief. Still, a heavy stone lingered in his chest. He shouldered the door to his room open and stepped inside. He waited for the maid to set down the box and retreat, before gently laying Isla on the bed.

“Alisdair.”

“I will wash ye now,” he explained as he knelt on the floor to take off her ruined shoes.

“Look at me.”

Alisdair felt the stone getting heavier, dragging him down. This was the second time he had failed to protect the people he cared for. He must be cursed.

Isla leaned in and caressed his cheek, and he looked up at her. Her face was smudged with dirt, and there was a streak of dried blood on her cheek. He growled as his fury flared anew.

Isla. His Isla. Hurt.

“I am well, Alisdair.”

“Ye arenae!” he hissed. “Ye have a bump on yer head, cuts and bruises everywhere. And the fear ye must have felt…” he trailed off, lowering his eyes.

Isla slipped down from the bed and knelt on the floor before him. His head snapped up, and he took her hands in his.

“Back to bed, Isla. Ye are hurt.”

“So are ye.” Isla traced her fingers over the wounds from the fight with her uncle.

Alisdair shook his head, chuckling. “Who is taking care of whom?”

Isla chuckled too. “I think we are taking care of each other.”

He gazed upon her. His bonnie, courageous wife. Pain gripped his heart and squeezed, and his mind clouded. The sun was just rising over the loch, but he was still dark inside, his mind stuck on that cold night when his family had been brought back dead.

“I am here,” Isla soothed.

He shook his head. He had almost lost her. Had he reached the cabin but a few moments later, Gavin would have killed the love of his life.

“Alisdair.”

“He hurt ye.” His jaw tightened.

“He didnae. Ye came for me.”

“Isla.” He hung his head. “It is because of me that this happened to ye.”

“Look at me,” she demanded. “It wasnae yer fault. It was Gavin’s fault that he obsessed over a woman who wasnae his. And it was me uncle’s fault for being cruel and evil.”

Alisdair rested his forehead on her shoulder, seeking solace in her warmth. She sighed and wrapped her arms around him.