Chapter 27
The dark of night gradually gave way to the rays of the morning sun, which hummed behind his curtains, making Dominik shove his face into the pillow beneath his head. He did not wish to face a new day, with so much on his docket, dreading it had taken up all his thoughts beyond Rose.
Ah, Rose. Sweet, strong Rose.
Reaching out with his eyes still pinned shut, Dominik found her in the bed next to him and pulled her close to his side.
She hummed, sleep coloring her surprise, and he buried his nose in the tumbled locks of her hair that spread across the pillow.
The scent of her in his nose made his heartbeat quicken, his manhood responding and stiffening.
He could take her again right now. Surely nothing else seemed as good an idea as that.
Smoothing his thumb up and down the soft skin of her arm, nuzzling into the back of her neck, and moving away the long strands of hair from her shoulder, Dominik pressed kisses to her porcelain flesh.
The sun’s rays beyond his curtains were so orange this morning, and he shut his eyes tighter, refusing to believe that it had already begun to rise.
“Is it truly morning already?” Rose’s soft, sleep-scratched voice whispered in the quiet.
“It does seem too early for it, lass. Perhaps it is only a verra bright star.”
Rose giggled, turning over to face him, everything about her all the more beautiful for how tussled and well satisfied she was.
“The sun is a very bright star, Dominik.”
“Och, none of that nonsense when I willnae be taken from this bed because of the light.”
They laughed together, Dominik’s lips finding Rose’s as she smiled.
He held her against him, his small frame fitting so perfectly against his chest and even more so against his hips.
His length snuggled between the gap of her thighs, and he rocked in a slow motion, not seeking out anything in particular but simply enjoying the feel of her.
“Dominik,” she squealed happily, “I don’t think we should—Do you smell that?”
It was such an odd question that it struck the Laird hard, making him stop short as he stared down at his wife. He paused, breathing slowly as he waited for what Rose had noticed to hit him. And then there it was, the scent of char in the air.
Sitting up, he looked at the fireplace. The roaring flames had died down, leaving the steady glow of embers in the hearth. Looking around his chambers, Dominik sniffed again, and yes, the smell of burning was on the wind and growing stronger by the second.
“Just a moment, lass.”
Dominik threw his legs over the bed, gathering up the fabric of his kilt and hastily securing it around his hips. He approached his window first, drawing back the curtains. When he did, the sight kicked him in the center of the chest, stealing his air.
It was not the sunrise.
Flames snaked up along the outside of the keep, consuming his vision of the east side tower and main entrance. Without a word, he rushed to the door, flinging it wide. He could not see fire in the hall, but smoke filtered up the stairwell from the ground floor.
“Bloody hell,” he grumbled, spinning on his heel and sprinting back into the room to a perplexed, clearly nervous Rose. “There’s a fire, lass. Yer clothes now. We cannae stay here.”
“What?” Rose shot up in the bed, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. “A fire! Oh God, we must help the people.”
“Aye, lass. Dress now in whatever is quick. I must get to Oskar and the men. Can ye…can ye work with Eilidh and Fiona, there may be injuries.”
“Of course.” Rose stood up, not caring in the slightest about her nakedness, and began to pull on her shift and a few layers that would keep her from completely exposing herself.
Dominik rushed inside as she did, pulling on his shirt and grabbing his belt from the floor.
His sword and musket were still strapped to it, and he had a horrible feeling that he would very well be needing both.
Together, they tore from the room, going straight to the main floor, where they saw the massive doors of the keep steadily burning.
Panicked clanspeople ran this way and that; smoke clogged up the air all around them as buckets of water were thrown on the flames.
Unfortunately, those droplets didn’t do much.
They needed more people in a coordinated effort.
“Me laird!” Oskar’s voice was to his right, and Dominik turned to see him rushing forward, sword in hand and bleeding from his forehead. “An attack. I was outside doing me round of patrol when I saw men rush the front gates with torches.”
Dominik pulled Oskar in close, running his stare over the man’s injuries. Thankfully, they didn’t appear too bad.
“Who?” the Laird bit out, glaring around the chaos of the main entrance as more servants woke from their beds in the keep to flames. “Did ye see who did this?!”
“Aye,” Oskar bobbed his head in a tired nod, “a man led the small militia, blonde hair, and a weedy-looking fellow. I…I recognized him from the inn.”
“Lord Egerton.”
Fury roiled in Dominik’s stomach, and then he felt thin fingers tightening on his forearm. As he looked down, the Laird remembered his wife. She’d fled the room with him, and he would need her safe. Particularly if that bastard Egerton had done this.
“How is that possible?” Rose’s voice was thready, nervous, and her stare roamed the middle distance before flicking up to him. “Has he been watching us?”
Dominik had come to the same conclusion.
Ambrose must not have gone back to England as they expected.
He’d been festering like an infected wound right outside their door, keeping a harmful eye pinned on them.
Nodding with his jaw so tight it could crack; the Laird put his hand over Rose’s before lifting it.
“I believe he must’ve. Ye need to get to Fiona and Eilidh.” He turned to Oskar. “Get her to the healer’s chambers and then report back to me.”
“Aye, me laird.”
“It is too far to bring anyone injured.” Rose shook her head. “Bring Fiona and Eilidh to me. We will set up an infirmary in the Great Hall. And any able-bodied should be at the door with water.”
With widening eyes, Dominik looked down at his wife as he knew Oskar did, with shocked awe. He could not deny the logical insight in her words, and he nodded once, turning to his man-at-arms.
“I am nae so proud that I cannae accept a fine idea. Fetch them and return. We will need to put up a fight as those men funnel inside.”
“Aye.” Oskar was off after that, rushing down the halls to fetch the healer’s apprentice and their indispensable Eilidh.
He took Rose to the Great Hall, then ordered the servants near her to help her assemble the tables to be makeshift beds.
In minutes, Fiona and Eilidh entered, sprinting to Rose’s side and immediately getting to work.
Already, men who had patrolled outside were entering the hall in need of healing, and he sent them to the women before hurrying back to the front entrance with Oskar.
The flames soared higher, consuming the wood and attempting to stretch inside the keep and along the stone walls.
Oskar stood at his side, helping him to coordinate the servants who had been bringing water, creating a line of people who could rush the buckets back and forth quicker.
Smog and char burned in Dominik’s lungs.
Despite their efforts, a massive crack split through the door on the right, giving the hollering men outside the opportunity to enter.
“Defend this keep! Let the intruders taste yer steel!” Dominik called out, and a resounding cry from his men shook the hallway.
In seconds, the men under Lord Egerton’s control rushed inside the building, leaping through flames. Dominik stood shoulder to shoulder with Oskar, several more of his guards coming to their aid.
The clang of swords clashing filled the room, echoing around the tangled mess of bodies who stood in defense at the door.
Dominik slashed down through the arm of one man, hearing his scream ring out before spinning to dispatch of another who attempted to be so bold as to strike down the Laird of this castle.
“We’ve been getting nay rest since our dear Laird wed. Wouldnae ye say Angus?”
One of Dominik’s guards stood on Oskar’s other side, shaking his head with a single laugh as the man-at-arms joked.
Dominik simply rolled his eyes at his friend, knocking him with an elbow and then yanking him backward by the scruff of his shirt when a blade came down.
They spun around each other, trading sides, and in two quick blows felled the men who’d shoved through the broken doors first.
But more were coming, and Dominik had not seen any sight of Egerton.
“This way!” A feminine voice called out, and he turned over his shoulder to see Peggy escorting children into the Great Hall, keeping them out of harm’s way.
The Laird could not help but be impressed by her actions, the move unexpectedly brave and selfless. He nodded at her as Peggy passed by, rushing into the Hall as the doors opened a crack. Through that opening, he could see Rose, and for just a moment, Dominik’s attention lingered on her.
Her back was to him, and he could see his wife furiously tending to the injured, under Fiona’s direction.
Eilidh stood near the door, immediately helping Peggy with the children.
He met the woman’s eyes for a brief pause, and there in her wise stare, Dominik could see the admiration and respect she held for these two Englishwomen who had only been with them all for a few short months.
“Dominik!” He spun around, blocking an attack headed his way as Oskar warned him. “Yes, and look!”