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Now, he needed her, period. He wanted her to come with him so that he’d have more time with her. They could eat and talk, and mayhap she’d sing to him again. “Aye,” he said. “Right.”

When Raghnall looked back at Dornie, he saw more of his people embarking on wooden barges with sacks and chests and boxes, taking their cattle and sheep. He nodded to Odhran and Eamhair and their children, who were on the barge, and they nodded back, pressing out brave smiles. He hoped no harm would come to them or any of his people. As the barge approached Eilean Donan, he saw men working on the outer walls and roofs, spreading mortar into the cracks, nailing fireproof animal hides to the roofs.

The castle was clearly preparing for a siege.

Raghnall watched it all, his hand curled around the handle of his sword. “Actually, lass,” he murmured. “’Tis best ye leave right away.”

When they docked, Raghnall directed his people where to go. As they passed through the gates, he explained to the guards who they were and was told they were expecting people from Tigh na Abhainn thanks to the messenger who had arrived yesterday.

The first inner bailey was packed with people camping in tents. Animals bleated, chickens squawked, and geese honked. Campfires burned here and there. People’s faces were somber, worried. Mothers huddled with their children, stirred pottage in cauldrons, and turned bannocks frying on cast-iron pans. Young lads and older men trained on swords. In another corner, James trained several men and women to shoot arrows into hay dummies.

In the second inner bailey, Raghnall noticed several lean-tos. Nothing more than four posts and a roof, they wouldn’t last long but were a quick solution to keep food away from rain and sun. Several men whittled wood for arrows and bows, and three blacksmiths worked in the smithy, repairing swords and making arrowheads.

A dark worm of worry churned in Raghnall’s gut. He’d never been in a besieged castle before.

And then a thought struck him—what about Seoc? Would the boy arrive right in the middle of the siege? Could Raghnall get Iòna a message to stay away for now?

His heart sank in worry. He couldn’t be responsible for the deaths of both Seoc and Mòrag. Nae.

When they were a few feet away from the main keep, Angus emerged from the door, his face a mask of determined concern. Rogene hurried after him, saying something. She was now four moons pregnant, and with her sickness passing, she’d finally gotten that glow many expectant mothers had about them.

Raghnall wondered how he hadn’t noticed how different she was from everyone he knew, how those little habits of hers—like eating with a small pitchfork, and cleaning her teeth, and insisting on boiling water before drinking, and many more little things—were different. She knew how to write and had been appointed as scribe to write up the marriage contract between Angus and Euphemia, even though most scribes were monks. Men.

His reflections were interrupted when Rogene and Angus stopped abruptly before them.

Rogene beamed. “Ah, our newlyweds! How are things? How’s marriage?” She looked Bryanna over carefully, then her eyes narrowed on Raghnall.

For a moment, he thought he wouldn’t be able to hide anything from his sister-in-law, but it was Bryanna who replied, “It’s fine. He knows.”

“He kens?” Angus’s dark eyes landed on Raghnall.

“Aye.”

“And what do ye think about that?” said Angus.

“I think the lass needs to go back to where she came from, right away. The enemy is on our doorstep. I didna ken she’s from the future, or I wouldna have marrit her. So she needs to go.”

Angus crossed his arms over his chest. “So ye want to annul the marriage?”

“There’s no need for that,” said Bryanna. “The marriage happened, if you know what I mean.”

Angus’s and Rogene’s dubious gazes locked with Bryanna’s. But, giving credit to the lass, she didn’t waver. After several moments, Rogene relaxed and exchanged a knowing glance with her husband. For a split second, envy towards his older brother burned in Raghnall’s chest. Just for the blink of an eye, part of him wished he had someone to exchange a knowing glance with and agree without a word.

Not just someone.

He could imagine a glance like that passing between him and the strange woman he was married to. And he liked the idea of that more than he wanted to admit to himself.

Angus cleared his throat. “I am sorry, lass, but ye will have to stay in Eilean Donan a wee bit longer.”

Rogene pressed her lips together. “Unfortunately, the pile isn’t cleared yet. It’s as though someone, like a certain faerie we all know, really wants you to stay.”

Bryanna paled a little, then gave a stern nod. Her shoulders straightened, and her chin rose. “Then I guess I’m going to help here as much as I can.”

Rogene squeezed her hand. “Thank you. Let me show you where you and Raghnall can sleep.”

As Raghnall watched the small, thin figure of Bryanna walk towards the main keep, relief flooded his body, lifting him like a gust of warm air. He hated himself for liking that the lass would stay with him longer.

As she reached the door to the keep, she turned and met his eyes for a moment, and something stirred in his loins. Because instead of regret and fear, there was that light in her eyes again, and even a small smile curled her lips.