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Alexander walked over and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I ken I can trust ye, me friend.”
Nathair nodded. “An’ I ye. Ready for a fight?”
Alexander touched his bare shirt where his pin should be. In truth, he had never felt less prepared for a fight in his life. But he nodded, blue eyes shining with determination, and said, “Readier than I’ve ever been in me life.”
It was just before sunset when Cicilia finally reached the castle. She hadn’t ridden to the village, and she’d half-winded herself by running all the way back. She raced through the Castle doors into something approaching chaos. The entrance hall was swarming with young men dressed in fighting clothes, holding weapons, and discussing tactics.
Do they ken about the attack? Do we have hope after all?
She’d heard horses and men close behind on her entire rush up there and knew there was very little time before the mob attacked. Where was Alexander? She could not see either him or Nathair in the throng, and even if they knew there was an attack incoming, they couldn’t possibly know the extent of it all.
She grabbed one young soldier by the arm. “Where is the Laird?”
The soldier looked at her and paled. “Miss O’Donnel! Me Laird said ye were to go directly to yer quarters when ye entered.”
“Where is he?” she demanded again, a little more firmly. “I’m nae goin’ anywhere until I see him.”
The soldier gulped. “In the residential wing, givin’ further instructions to the guards. But he says ye are nae to take the main stairway; ye’re to take the back way directly to—”
“Thank ye,” Cicilia interrupted him. Before he could say anything else, she had dashed off in the direction of the main staircase. If that was where Alexander waited, then that was where she needed to be, too.
She took the stairs two at a time, feeling the physical exertion pulling at her lungs. She was fitter than most women of her age and status thanks to her years of farm work, but it still took her breath away how quickly she was rushing up the steep steps.
By the time she located Alexander, she could hear clanging from below as the first wave attacked. He turned away from the guard stationed outside of her bedroom to hurry down, then noticed her standing there.
The surprise on his face would be funny if this was nae so serious.
“Cicilia,” he groaned, slapping the heel of his palm against his forehead. “What in the world—could ye nae have stayed away? Never mind that now, get inside. The twins are already there.”
Cicilia shook her head fiercely. “Nay! Nay, Alexander, I cannae. I was lookin’ for ye, an’ ye need to ken about the attack—”
“I ken about the attack,” Alexander interrupted. “Nathair an’ me have kent for a while. We dinnae want to worry ye, an’ I’m sorry if that was the wrong thing to do. Ye must understand. I just want to keep ye an’ the twins safe.”
That emotional realization hit Cicilia so hard in the chest that she temporarily felt her breath taken from her lungs. When she gathered herself again, she said, “Catherine—Matthew—Alice?”
“Jeanie’s taken them to safety. The twins refused to leave without ye,” Alexander told her. He was speaking gently, but she could hear the impatience in his tone. A roar echoed up the stone walls of the staircase as, below, Nathair joined the fray. “They’re in yer room now. Go.”
“Alexander, ye need to listen,” she insisted. “Please, I—”
“I’ve nae got time to chat right now,” Alexander told her, the impatience more visible now. “Can ye nae hear that the fightin’ has started? I need to be down there wi’ me men, now.”
“Alexander—” she started, but her words were cut off as his arms were suddenly around her waist, hefting her up over his shoulder. He held her like that while she kicked her legs, so surprised she didn’t even remember to protest with words.
She let out a surprised yelp as Alexander cheekily smacked her rear just before he started to move towards her bedroom.
“Ye’ll be safe in yer rooms,” he told her, one hand resting on her buttocks as he carried her to the door. “Yer siblings are in there.”
He pushed the door open with his foot. The twins waited inside, and they both started giggling as they saw their sister hefted over Alexander’s shoulder like a pig at the farm.
“Ye found Cil!” Annys cheered as Alexander brought her inside and lowered her to the ground.
“I found him,” Cicilia protested. “An’ he will nae listen to me! Alexander, ye need to ken—”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her quickly but passionately, and pulled away. “Dinnae ye look so worried. There’ll be more kisses when I get back. We’ve got this under control.”
He pressed something into her hand, and she looked down to see his sgian-dubh, the knife he wore with his kilt. “Use this only if ye need to,” he warned her. “Stay hidden. Stay safe. Protect yerself an’ the bairns.”
“I—” she started.
