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“Just started training her a month ago. By far the smartest one I’ve ever worked with.”
Sloane’s fingers sank into the wiry hair along the dog’s neck. “She’s also a pretty one. Proud.”
“Full of herself, that is her one downfall. But also strong-willed and a protector to the last. She’s been dubbed Theodora.”
Sloane chuckled. “Fitting.”
He cleared his throat. “Lach’s not going to like this, you sneaking into the castle.” His thumbs tucked into the top of his trousers as he eyed her. “What are ye doing here, lass? They think you’re still in London.”
She looked to Vinehill castle looming behind Domnall, the strong, tall walls outlined in the moonlight. “Which is exactly why I need you to get me in and out of the castle without Lach or any of the staff aware. I don’t want my brother to have the slightest inkling that I was here.”
“Which means you’ll be leaving again after ye get into the castle? What’s this about? You’re not in trouble, are you?”
“No, Dom, I’m fine—I just need to see Torrie without Lachlan or my grandfather trapping me into staying.”
“Ye need to see Torrie?”
She nodded.
His eyes went hooded. “These have been dark days for her.”
“She hasn’t been healing?”
“Her body, aye, as painful as it’s been. Her mind is a different matter.”
Sloane’s bottom lip drew inward, her look drifting off to the tower that held Torrie’s chamber. “I had thought my leaving would be better for her. So she wouldn’t feel the need to repeat the minutia of the fire every day, every hour with me. How it could have been different. How we failed. What it cost her—cost us.”
Domnall shrugged. “I think it was better for you. Torrie—I don’t ken. She keeps all that to herself now. Except for the outbursts.”
“There are still outbursts?”
Domnall nodded.
Sloane drew in a deep breath. “Still, I need to see her.”
He pointed to her shoulder. “Then pull your cloak up to cover your head and I’ll get you up to Torrie’s room through the north tower. And then I never saw ye. If Lachlan discovers I ken you stepped foot in the castle without seeing him, he’ll have my bloody bollocks cut off.”
Sloane smiled. Domnall had never curbed his tongue about her, just the same as her brothers. She’d always appreciated that about him. She tugged the hood of her dark cloak over her head. “Thank you, Dom.”
“Where are ye sleeping, lass?”
They started up to the castle through the shadows, Sloane following the large Scotsman.
“In Buchlyvie.”
“Hell and damnation, Sloane—that’s a two—three hour ride in the dark.”
“I made it here without trouble.”
“No. I’ll not have ye in the woods by yourself. I’ll be waiting with your horse at the stable when ye are done to see ye back to Buchlyvie.”
“It’s not necessary, Dom.”
He looked over his shoulder at her, his booming voice rising above a whisper. “Bugger that. I may help sneak ye in and out of the castle, but I’ll not be taking chances with your well-being, lass.” He turned forward, keeping his pace. “And I’ll nae argue the matter with ye.”
Sloane smiled at his back. She’d had two big brothers by birth. And one additional big brother by luck. “Aye, I will gladly take the company back to Buchlyvie, Dom. Thank you.”
Five minutes later she was trudging up the northern tower’s steep circular staircase behind Domnall and his candle, questioning with every step her motives for coming to Vinehill to visit with Torrie.
