Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
“Keep goin’, ye foolish lass,” she muttered under her breath, her voice trembling yet stubborn.
The Highlands stretched wild and unforgiving before Eloise, the heather brushing against her skirts as she ran with no thought but forward.
Daenae stop now.
Night clung to the land at first, the moon her only guide, until the slow gray of dawn began to creep across the hills. Her breath came sharp and fast, her lungs burning as her feet stumbled more than once over hidden stones.
“I’d rather face the wolves than him,” she whispered, her voice raw, her mind flashing with all she had heard of Laird Drummond. The thought steeled her more than rest ever could, and she straightened despite the ache in her limbs.
As the sun rose pale over the distant peaks, she slowed at last, her strength faltering as the long hours took their toll.
“Let the Highlands take me if they must,” she murmured. “But I’ll nae be bound to that man.” And so she walked on, slower now, but no less determined.
By midmorning, the sound of creaking wheels reached her ears, faint at first, then clearer. A lone wagon appeared pulled by one horse with a farmer seated at the front.
“Ho there! Wait a moment, if ye please!” Eloise said.
The farmer drew the horse to a stop, eyeing her with wary curiosity as she approached.
“And who might ye be, wanderin’ alone out here?” he asked, his tone cautious but not unkind.
Eloise caught her breath and said, “I'm nay one. Only a lass in need of a bit of kindness.”
The man scratched at his beard, studying her torn hem and wind-reddened face as he said, “Kindness comes dear these days, lass, and folk daenae give it lightly.”
Eloise nodded, swallowing her pride as she replied, “I’ve little to offer but this ribbon,” she said slipping it off her hair. In return for hitching a ride as far as ye go.”
He tilted his head then reached out for the ribbon, inspecting it. Then jerked his thumb toward the back of the wagon. “Well then, climb up if ye must, but I’ll nae be answerin’ for where ye end up.”
Relief flickered across her face as she said, “That’s more than enough, sir, and I thank ye kindly.
” She moved quickly, settling herself at the back with her legs dangling over the edge, the wood rough beneath her hands.
As the wagon lurched forward again, she let out a slow breath, the first hint of safety settling around her.
“Where are ye bound, then?” the farmer called over his shoulder after a time, his voice carrying on the wind.
Eloise hesitated, then answered honestly, “Away.”
He let out a short chuckle and said, “Aye, that’s plain enough, but away has many directions.”
She stared out at the rolling hills and replied, “As far from these lands as the road will take me.”
The day wore on as the wagon creaked along, the rhythm of its movement lulling her into a weary rest as she slumped over, half between sleep and awake. The wagon jolted and she snapped awake and looked at her surroundings.
Eloise watched the land pass by, though she scarcely saw it, her thoughts tangled in what lay ahead.
“I daenae ken where I’m goin’,” she admitted softly to herself. The truth of it settled heavy in her chest, yet it did not break her resolve.
“Anywhere is better than there,” she added in a whisper, her gaze fixed on the horizon.
By the time the sun dipped low once more, painting the sky in fading gold, the farmer drew the wagon to a slow halt.
“This is as far as I go, lass. This turn takes me home,” he called, glancing back at her with a measured look.
Eloise slid down carefully, her legs unsteady as they met the ground. “Ye’ve done me a great kindness, sir,” she said, offering a small, earnest smile.
He nodded once and replied, “Take care where ye tread, for the wilds daenae favor the unprepared.”
She inclined her head and said, “I’ll remember it, and I thank ye again.”
Without another word, he turned the wagon and set off, leaving her alone once more.
She knew to get off of the main road and turned to the woods. The forest loomed dark ahead, its shadows thick as night settled in once more. Eloise stepped beneath its cover with cautious steps.
Branches snagged at her skirts and scratched at her skin, leaving thin lines of pain that she scarcely noticed at first.
“Just a bit farther, then I shall rest,” she murmured, though she had no measure of distance left within her.
Her strength waned with each step, exhaustion pressing down until her limbs felt heavy and slow.
She stumbled once, catching herself against a tree, her breath shuddering as she fought to keep moving.
“Daenae stop now,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
At last, through the thinning trees, she caught sight of something that made her pause, a distant shape rising against the darkened sky. A castle stood there, its outline stark and silent, a promise of shelter or danger she could not yet know.
Eloise stared at it, her heart pounding anew, uncertainty warring with desperate hope. “It could be worse than the wild,” she murmured, her voice shaking as doubt crept in. Yet the cold bit deeper, and her body cried out for rest, leaving her little choice.
Drawing in a steadying breath, she lifted her chin and said, “A stable. Anywhere. I cannae stay out in the open. Move, just move.”
And with that, she turned her steps toward the unknown, choosing the chance of refuge over the certainty of ruin at home.
“We’ve lost it clean this time,” James said.
The stag had slipped them twice before vanishing into the mist, leaving James standing still among the trees, his breath steady though his thoughts were not.
Beside him, his man-at-arms, Callum adjusted his grip on the bow, casting a glance toward the fading trail. “Aye, the stag has bested us, Laird,” Callum muttered, though there was no real frustration in his tone.
James lowered his weapon. “Aye, seems the beast has more sense than most men I’ve dealt with,” he replied dryly.
Callum huffed a quiet laugh, slinging the bow across his back as he said, “If beasts had to answer to a council, they’d nae last long either.”
“Aye the council is enough to drive any man into fleeing like the stag,” James said.
They began the walk back toward the castle.
“They’ve been at ye again, have they?” Callum asked.
James exhaled slowly and said, “Aye, they have, and louder than before.”
Callum nodded once, unsurprised, and said, “About Mairead, I take it?”
James muttered, “Pressed upon me as if I’ve nay say in the matter.”
Callum shot him a sideways glance and said, “She’s a fine match by any measure, or so they claim. She is a fine choice. And sent by the Cameron clan to yer castle to be raised by MacAllisters.”
James stopped walking, turning sharply as he said, “I daenae care how fine she is, I’ll nae be steered like livestock to market.”
Callum raised his hands slightly in mock surrender, though his expression held a trace of approval. “Easy, Laird, I’ve nay wish to be gored over it,” he said lightly.
James shook his head, his voice lowering as he added, “I’ve done me duty once, and I ken too well what it cost.”
“This isnae the same,” Callum said more quietly, his tone losing its edge.
“It begins the same, with others decidin' what’s best and callin' it necessity.”
“Then ye’ll have to stand firm, for they’ll nae stop pushin' easy,” Callum said.
“Aye, I ken it,” James said, resuming his stride, though there was tension in every step he took. “But I’ll nae bend to them this time, nae for politics, nor pressure, nor peace. I was a lad then,” he said quietly, “and I’ll carry the weight of that choice all me days.”
“Aye, ye’ve carried it well enough, but there’s nay sense in addin' to it.”
James glanced at him briefly and said, “On that, we’re agreed.”
As they emerged from the treeline, a guard hurried down the path to meet them, his expression tense as he came to a halt.
“Me Laird,” he said quickly, bowing his head, “there’s been a matter while ye were out.”
James frowned slightly and asked, “What kind of matter?”
The guard shifted his weight and replied, “We’ve taken in a woman, found wanderin’ near the stables, she gave nay clear account of herself. She wouldnae come quietly, sir, and we feared she might be a spy or worse.”
James’s gaze sharpened at that, his earlier thoughts pushed aside by the new concern. “A lone woman, wanderin’ the wilds, and ye think her a threat?” he said, his tone edged with skepticism. He turned towards the castle as he asked, “Where is she now?”
“In the great hall, me Laird,” the guard replied, falling into step behind them.
“Let’s see what sort of trouble has found its way to our door,” Callum said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
James did not answer, though his expression had shifted, something more alert, more focused settling over him. “If she’s a threat, we’ll deal with it,” he said. “I'll be the one to decide that.”