Chapter 24
“I told ye, a woman must always ken how to defend herself!” Valerie yelled at Leana as she grabbed her arm.
Leana barely had time to realize what was happening. There was chaos all around her. Maxwell lay at her feet, still bleeding, his eyes glazed over, while Kenneth threw himself at Laird Matheson. At the same time, Jonas hurried toward them, pushing them away from the confrontation.
As Kenneth’s guards surrounded them, Leana cast her gaze around in search of Hunter and Brenda. Relief flooded her when she spotted them in the tower, safe with the castle guards.
But the fear never left her heart, for she could only think of Kenneth. If any harm came to him because of her, she would never forgive herself.
She watched him intently, but he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Now that she was safe, he moved with a different kind of ease. Sure of himself, as if he had already won the battle.
Leana was not far behind the two Lairds, so she was able to hear him saying to Laird Matheson, “I was just comin’ to find ye.”
“What for?” Laird Matheson asked, a sinister smile plastered on his face.
Treacherously, he lunged at Kenneth, the movement swift and ruthless, a predator striking in the dead of night.
Leana’s breath hitched, her fingers clenching at the fabric of her dress as dread coiled in her chest. She had heard the stories—tales whispered in dimly lit halls of his unrelenting savagery, of the foes left broken in his wake. Now, she was witnessing it firsthand.
The eyes of Laird Matheson burned with a cruel determination, every motion precise, calculated, meant to inflict damage without hesitation.
Kenneth braced himself, muscles coiled, prepared for the onslaught, but the sheer force of his opponent’s assault made the air crackle with danger.
But his movements, though swift, did not catch Kenneth off guard. Years of battle had honed his instincts, making every attack predictable before it even landed.
He shifted his weight at the last possible moment, dodging the strike with a precision that spoke of experience rather than luck. Without hesitation, he retaliated—his blade finding its mark with an unerring force that sent his opponent staggering.
A sharp gasp escaped the man, his eyes wide with realization before his knees buckled beneath him. Kenneth stood firm, his breath steady, his grip unwavering. The battle was over before it had truly begun.
Leana did not immediately understand what had happened, for Kenneth moved with great skill and speed. Yet she could see the moment he struck Laird Matheson with the hilt of his sword.
Laird Matheson staggered backward and almost fell. He let out a grunt and threw his sword at Kenneth with all his might, hoping to knock him out.
But Kenneth was faster. He caught Laird Matheson’s arm and, without hesitation, drove his sword into the bastard’s chest.
Laird Matheson let out a groan just before falling to his knees in front of Kenneth, who fixed him with a cold silvery gaze.
“To punish ye for hurtin’ her. But ye’ve made this too easy,” Kenneth spat as Laird Matheson fell at his feet.
His blood pooled beneath him, mingling with Maxwell’s, and he let out a gurgle.
“Now, yer people are free from yer tyranny,” Kenneth declared, watching the man slowly bleed to death.
Relief, as well as fear, shot through Leana as she watched the scene. Finally, Laird Matheson was dead, but the fear she had felt at almost losing Kenneth had not ebbed.
This made her run in his direction, without a care in the world. Her eyes filled with tears as he turned to her and opened his arms wide.
This made her run in his direction, without a care in the world. Her eyes filled with tears as he turned to her and opened his arms wide.
She surged forward, her steps quick and unrestrained, the weight of everything slipping away with each stride.
When she reached him, she didn’t hesitate—she threw herself into his embrace, her fingers clutching at his back, anchoring herself to him as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had been tilting beneath her feet.
His arms wrapped around her with certainty, a silent promise, his warmth pressing against her, steady and strong. The tremble in her breath eased, and in that moment, she knew—here, in his hold, she was safe.
“I was so afraid somethin’ would happen to ye!” she cried.
“Aye. I was afraid for ye too,” Kenneth murmured, wiping away her tears with his fingers.
Her heart fluttered at his touch, for she could not forget what she had heard. Even if he didn’t know it, she had already been there, cornered by Maxwell’s men, when he had declared his feelings to everyone.
Perhaps the confession they had both made when they weren’t certain whether they would live to tell the tale lay between their bodies, melting in that promising embrace, for Leana felt that everything was different… in a way.
It hadn’t been clear to her how she felt about Kenneth that morning, but the fear of losing him had forced her to face her feelings.
It was a new, strange, and powerful feeling that dominated her and prevented her from turning away from him, even when she felt other people approaching.
Among them was Jonas, who was herding the villagers away.
“I hope ye understand that Leana Beaton isnae a witch,” he boomed, “and that the words spoken against her were nothin’ more than the lies of two dead traitors.”
If there was any doubt, no one voiced it, for indeed the villagers seemed to regret believing that the young healer had evil intentions.
And though it had been a bitter moment for Leana, the knowledge that she was no longer in danger and that Kenneth was safe finally laid her fear to rest.
It was even better when she heard familiar voices calling to her, just as her heart began to race. Only then did she turn away from Kenneth.
“Leana! Leana!”
“Papa, Joanna, Irene!” she cried thickly.
Her sisters and father rode toward the castle, the pounding of hooves echoing across the open fields. Wind whipped through their hair, but the young women scarcely seemed to notice—their tear-streaked faces spoke of urgency, of sorrow left unrestrained.
Joanna gripped the reins tightly, her knuckles white, her posture rigid with determination.
The horse beneath her heaved, its sides slick with sweat, its breath coming in labored huffs.
She had pushed it hard, too hard, but there was no hesitation in her movements.
As they neared, her shoulders sagged, exhaustion weighing down her frame, yet she refused to slow.
“Leana, me goodness! I’m so glad ye’re all right!” Irene gasped as jumped down from the horse and ran toward Leana.
Joanna and Irene threw their arms around her, showering her with kisses, while their father dismounted from his horse in time to reach them.
It was only the relief of having her sisters with her that finally made Leana feel safe. For all the time they had been away from her, she had felt as if a part of her soul was missing.
At that moment, she felt lost amid so much joy, but that didn’t stop her from listening to Kenneth as he barked orders to Jonas.
“I want ye to send a messenger to Castle Matheson. Inform them of what has happened, and tell them that they are now under me protection.”
Then Kenneth will be me Laird too!
The revelation was unexpected for everyone, and Leana noticed that her sisters didn’t know what to make of it, as they both looked confused.
They had probably only heard bad rumors about Kenneth. Some of them like the ones she’d heard the day she met him, but they must not have heard the rest.
They didn’t know that he was the kind of Laird who cared about his people—a man who would do anything to protect those he loved.
The man Leana had fallen in love with.
Her father moved instinctively, stepping between them, his stance firm despite the uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
His breath came shallow, his shoulders squared as if shielding her from a threat that wasn’t truly there.
Kenneth halted, his gaze sharp, assessing the man who had so quickly positioned himself as a barrier.
A muscle in his jaw tightened, but he made no move to force his way forward.
Had the rumors been true—had he truly been the danger her father feared—this moment would have played out differently.
Yet here they stood, the air thick with misplaced suspicion and unspoken tension.
But Kenneth paused anyway, watching the man and Leana’s sisters impassively.
“Laird MacReid, I received a letter informin’ me that ye had kidnapped me daughter,” her father accused, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
“Why did ye nae tell us about this in yer letter, Lea?” Irene asked.
“We would have come to get ye,” Joanna added.
Leana sighed. “Exactly, that’s why I didnae say anythin’.”
She pushed her sisters aside, and as she approached her father, Kenneth said, “Mr. Beaton, I assure ye that yer daughter is free to leave whenever she wishes.”
“Good. Because we’re leavin’ right now,” her father declared.
“Faither, ye daenae have to do this, really,” Leana interjected. “Kenneth has been so kind to me. His whole family has taken care of me…”
She went on to tell her father and sisters everything that had happened minutes ago, including how she suspected that Laird Matheson was involved in all this witchcraft business.
Meanwhile, Valerie rushed to them with Brenda.
They told the healer’s family how much they appreciated her, which seemed to help Leana’s sisters and their father change their perceptions of Kenneth.
Hunter threw himself at Leana and hugged her tightly.
She looked down at him fondly. “Me little hero,” she cooed, kissing the crown of his head.
“Leana, I’m so glad ye’re all right!” the boy cried, looking up at her with wide, teary eyes. “I heard ye’re leavin’, but please, I want ye to stay with us!”
“I…” she trailed off, looking at Kenneth, who rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“Hunter, we cannae be selfish and demand that Leana stay with us. She has a home to return to,” he reminded him.
Then ye wish me to leave…
The thought broke Leana’s heart, for she wanted to stay with Kenneth. But maybe he didn’t feel the same way. Maybe his declaration of love was just the heat of the moment. Maybe he had regretted it and only now realized that he did not love her…
It was a painfully heartbreaking thought, but she had no way of finding out whether what fear dictated to her heart was true or not.
“Mr. Beaton, me name is Brenda, and I am Kenneth’s maither,” Brenda said, taking a step toward her father and sisters.
“All this time, Leana has been our guest, and now I ask that ye be our guest as well. Spend the night with us and rest, and if ye wish, ye and yer beautiful daughters may leave at first light.”
“Faither, that wouldnae be a bad idea,” Irene piped up, apparently realizing that her sister’s captors weren’t bad people. “The horses are exhausted after ridin’ all this way…”
Her father didn’t seem convinced, but it was Leana herself who dispelled his doubts. “Please, Da. I daenae want to leave without sayin’ goodbye properly.”
Her eyes were filled with tears she dared not shed. Her sorrow was so obvious that even her father hesitated for a moment.
“Alright, then. I guess we’ll stay the night,” he relented with a sigh.
Kenneth stepped closer, the world around them melting into a blur as he seized the fleeting moment when no one was watching.
The heat of his presence brushed against her skin, sending a shiver racing down her spine.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, his voice a low murmur charged with something unspoken.
“Come to me tonight.”
The words coiled around her, weighty, brimming with meaning she couldn’t immediately grasp.
Leana’s gaze flickered to his face, searching, desperate for an answer within the sharp angles of his expression, the intensity that lingered in his eyes.
But he offered none. Instead, he pulled away, the distance between them growing in the span of a heartbeat.
Without another word, he turned, retreating toward the castle, his broad figure disappearing into the dusk.
She remained frozen, her pulse hammering, her thoughts tangled in the request he had left behind—a request she wasn't sure she knew how to respond to.