Chapter 5
Two days of hard riding had left them exhausted, saddle-sore, and covered in the dust of the Highland roads. Leona’s thighs ached with every shift in the saddle, her back screamed in protest, and her hands were blistered beneath her gloves from gripping the reins.
They’d slept rough, curled together for warmth under a thin blanket, while Nyx kept watch with her unsettling yellow eyes. They’d eaten cold provisions that tasted like ash in her mouth, and jumped at every shadow, expecting Ragnall’s men to materialize from the mist at any moment.
But finally, as the afternoon sun broke through the clouds, they crested a ridge and saw it.
Ainsley Castle.
It rose proud and formidable against the sky, more fortress than a home, its gray stone walls thick enough to withstand any siege.
Even from this distance, Leona could see guards patrolling the battlements, their figures small but vigilant.
The castle sat atop a rise, commanding the landscape around it like a predator surveying its territory.
The courtyard below bustled with activity. People moving, working, living. A functioning clan, healthy and strong. Everything her own home had once been before Keith had poisoned it with his ambition.
For a moment, doubt assailed her.
What was she doing, arriving uninvited at the home of a man who’d made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her? A man who’d walked away without looking back, leaving her standing in a courtyard soaked with blood?
This is where we part, lass.
His words echoed in her mind, flat and final. He’d kept his promise. She didn’t have to marry Keith. Their debt was settled.
Except it wasn’t. Not anymore.
“Leona?” Rufus’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. He looked as exhausted as she felt, his red hair dulled with dust, dark circles under his eyes. But there was determination in his expression, too. Her brave little brother, trying so hard to be strong. “Are we really doin' this?”
Leona thought of Ragnall’s face, twisted with grief and hatred. Thought of his promise to finish what Keith had started. Thought of the life awaiting her if she turned back now.
She straightened her spine. “Aye, we’re goin' in.”
Rufus nodded nervously, his hand moving to stroke Nyx where she perched in front of him on the saddle. The cat’s ears were flat against her head, her body tense with exhaustion and irritation.
They urged their horses forward, down the slope toward the castle gates.
As they drew closer, Leona became acutely aware of how she must look.
Her cloak was mud-splattered and torn at the hem.
Her hair had come loose from its braid, wild tangles framing her face.
She probably smelled of horse and sweat and fear.
Not exactly the impression she’d hoped to make.
The guards at the gate moved to block their path, hands on the hilts of their swords.
Both were tall, broad-shouldered men who looked like they could break her in half without effort.
One had a scar running from his temple to his jaw.
The other’s nose had been broken so many times it sat crooked on his face.
“State yer business,” the scarred guard demanded.
Leona raised her chin, summoning every ounce of her father’s authority. “I’m Lady Leona Gilmore, of Clan Kerr, and this is me brother, Rufus Gilmore. I’m here to see Laird Ainsley.”
The guards exchanged glances. Something shifted in their expressions. Surprise, perhaps, and something that might have been grudging respect.
“Lady Leona Gilmore?” the broken-nosed guard repeated. “The one who…”
“Aye,” Leona said simply.
Word of Laird Ainsley’s escape had clearly reached his people. And her role in it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
The scarred guard studied her for a long moment, his gaze darting from her to Rufus, then to Nyx, who chose that moment to hiss at him with impressive venom. His lips twitched, almost smiling.
“Wait here,” he said, disappearing into the gatehouse.
He returned minutes later, his expression carefully neutral. “The Laird will see ye. Follow me.”
The gates swung open with a heavy groan, and they rode into the courtyard.
Immediately, activity stopped. Servants paused mid-task to stare. A blacksmith’s hammer fell silent. Even the chickens seemed to freeze, heads cocked as they watched the strangers pass.
Leona kept her head high, refusing to show how intimidated she felt. But her heart hammered against her ribs, and her palms were slick with sweat inside her gloves.
A stable boy rushed forward to take their horses.
Leona dismounted carefully, her legs nearly buckling after two days of riding.
She steadied herself against the saddle, then reached for Nyx.
The cat came willingly enough, settling into her arms with a low rumble that might have been a purr or a growl.
“This way, me Lady,” the guard said, gesturing toward the keep.
Inside, Ainsley Castle was a warren of stone corridors lit by torches, the walls softened by tapestries depicting battles and Highland landscapes. The air smelled of smoke and herbs and something cooking that made Leona’s stomach growl with sudden, vicious hunger.
Servants paused their work to stare as she passed, whispering behind their hands. She caught fragments of conversation.
“… the one who freed him…”
“… Gilmore lass…”
“… what is she doin' here?”
Good question. What was she doing here?
The guard led them through twisting corridors, up a flight of stairs, then down another hallway. Finally, he stopped before a heavy wooden door.
“Wait here,” he said, then knocked and disappeared inside.
Leona looked at Rufus, who’d gone pale. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “It’ll be all right.”
“Will it?” he whispered.
Before she could answer, the door opened.
“The Laird will see ye now,” the guard announced.
Murdock sat in his daughter’s room, a book of Highland tales open on his lap, and tried to focus on the words. Skye was curled against his side, her small body warm and solid, her dark hair tickling his arm. She’d insisted on a story before bed, and he’d found himself unable to refuse her.
He could never refuse her.
“And then the selkie said—” he read, his voice rougher than he had intended.
“Faither?” Skye interrupted, tilting her head to look up at him. “Do selkies really exist?”
“The stories say they do.”
“But do ye think they do?”
Murdock considered the question. His daughter had an uncanny ability to ask things that had no simple answers. “I think the world is stranger than we ken, wee one. So, maybe they exist.”
Skye seemed satisfied with that. She snuggled closer, and Murdock felt something tight in his chest ease slightly.
This. This was what mattered. Not wars, not politics, not the machinations of ambitious men. Just this small girl, who looked at him like he hung the stars, who somehow loved him despite everything he was.
A knock at the door interrupted them.
“Enter,” Murdock called, irritation sharpening his voice.
A maid appeared, looking apologetic. “Forgive the intrusion, me Laird. But ye have visitors.”
Murdock’s jaw tightened. “Visitors? Who?”
“Lady Leona Gilmore and her brother, me Laird. They’re asking to see ye.”
For a moment, Murdock couldn’t process the words. Lady Leona Gilmore. Here. At his castle.
Impossible.
“I’ll be right there,” he said, his voice coming out flat.
He rose slowly, ignoring Skye’s disappointed sound. “I’ll finish the story later, lass.”
“But Faither…”
“Later,” he repeated, more firmly.
He followed the maid through the corridors, his mind racing.
What was she doing here? He’d left her at Kerr Castle. Had walked away. Their business was concluded.
This is where we part, lass. Told ye ye willnae have to marry him.
As he rounded the corner into the entrance hall, he saw her.
Leona Gilmore stood in the middle of his hall, covered in road dust, her hair a wild tangle around her face, a hissing black cat in her arms. She looked exhausted, fragile, and somehow more beautiful than he remembered.
Their eyes met, and he felt something jolt in his chest. Something he immediately crushed down and buried.
“I’m here, me Laird!” she announced, her voice bright despite the exhaustion in her eyes.
Murdock stopped a few paces away, crossing his arms over his chest. He kept his expression cold. “Why?”
She blinked, some of the brightness fading. “Well, ye saved me life… so it’s yers now!”
The words hit him harder than they should have. He ruthlessly ignored the feeling.
“And them?” He gestured to the red-haired boy beside her, who was trying very hard to look brave, and the cat, who chose that moment to hiss at him with impressive malice.
“Well, by savin' me, ye saved them too,” Leona said, as if that explained everything.
Murdock narrowed his eyes. This was a complication he didn’t need. Didn’t want. “A word? In private?”
He saw a flicker of panic cross her face before she masked it with a smile. “Of course, me Laird.”
He led her down the corridor to his study, acutely aware of her presence behind him. She smelled of horse and heather and something sweet beneath it all. Something that made his jaw tighten.
Inside the study, he closed the door and turned to face her. This close, he could see the dark circles under her eyes, the way her hands trembled slightly as she set the cat down. The animal immediately began exploring, tail high.
“What does this mean?” Murdock demanded, keeping his voice hard. “I thought we parted ways nae owin' each other anything.”
Leona’s smile faltered. “I wish that were true, me Laird. But after ye left, Ragnall—that is Keith’s brother—took over. He wants to marry me, to finish what Keith started.”
Something dark twisted in Murdock’s gut. Another man wanting to possess her. Another threat to her safety. He crushed the feeling ruthlessly.
“And?”
“And I didnae ken what to do. I had nowhere to go. So I… thought to visit.”
“How long?” The question came out sharper than he had intended.
Leona bit her lip, and Murdock’s eyes tracked the movement before he could stop himself. “Well, maybe about… five years?”
“What?” The word exploded from him.
“Until me brother is old enough to take over the Lairdship,” she said quickly. “He’s only fourteen now, but in five years—”
“Absolutely nae.” Murdock turned away, needing distance from her, from the hope in her eyes. “I willnae risk another war, lass. I have a daughter to protect. Ye can spend the night here and then leave.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
When he turned back, Leona’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. But she blinked them away, straightening her spine with visible effort. That stubborn tilt to her chin returned.
“Of course,” she said softly. “Ye’re right, me Laird. I apologize for the imposition. And thank ye for allowin' us to stay the night, it’s very generous of ye.”
She moved closer, and Murdock’s body tensed. She was so small compared to him, barely reaching his shoulder. But there was steel in her spine, strength in the set of her jaw.
Her hand rose, and before he could react, her fingers brushed the scar Keith’s guard had carved into his cheek. Her touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it sent heat racing through his veins like lightning.
“How are ye healin'?” she asked softly, her eyes searching his face.
Murdock’s jaw clenched. “Fine.”
Her gaze dropped to his stomach, where his tunic covered the wound there. “And the other one?”
“Fine,” he repeated, more harshly this time.
But she didn’t flinch. She just smiled, sad and small. “Good. I’m glad.”
Then she turned to leave, and Murdock felt something he refused to name twist in his chest.
She’d barely opened the door when a small figure almost tumbled through it. Leona moved instinctively, bending down to steady the child before she could fall.
Skye.
His daughter looked up at Leona with wide, curious eyes. “Oh! Sorry!”
“Did ye come for yer story, Skye?” Murdock asked, struggling to keep his voice calm.
“Nay, I mean aye, but Faither, did ye ken there’s a kitty in the hall?” Skye’s eyes were alight with excitement.
“Ah, aye, it belongs to Lady Leona.”
Skye’s gaze turned to Leona, reassessing her with new interest. “Ye’re a lady?”
“Aye,” Leona said gently, smiling down at her.
“Are ye stayin' with us?”
“Just for the night,” Murdock answered before Leona could.
Skye’s face fell. Then her eyes lit up again. “Can the kitty stay?”
“Absolutely nae,” Murdock said firmly.
His daughter’s expression crumpled. “Why do ye have to be so mean, Faither? I cannae have breathers and sisters, and now I cannae have kitties too?”
Murdock was taken aback.
Skye spun and ran down the corridor, her footsteps echoing.
“What about the story?” Murdock called after her.
“I daenae want stories!” Skye shouted back. “I want real people. And animals!”
Then she was gone.
Silence fell over the study. Murdock stood frozen, his daughter’s words echoing in his head. His chest felt tight, compressed, like someone had wrapped iron bands around his ribs.
“Me Laird, I’m so sorry,” Leona said softly. “I didnae mean…”
“It’s nae yer fault, lass.” The words came out rougher than he had intended. He moved to the door, holding it open for her. A clear dismissal. “Come. I’ll have someone show ye to yer rooms.”
He couldn’t look at her as she passed. Couldn’t risk seeing whatever expression was on her face. Pity, perhaps. Or worse, understanding.
He led her back to the entrance hall in silence, where her brother waited with the cat. The boy looked exhausted, swaying slightly on his feet.
“Hamish,” Murdock called to his man-at-arms, who emerged from a side corridor. “Show Lady Leona and her brother to the guest chambers. Make sure they have everythin' they need.”
“Aye, me Laird.” Hamish’s eyes flickered with curiosity, but he was too well-trained to ask questions.
Leona turned to Murdock, and he forced himself to meet her gaze. His green eyes were luminous in the torchlight, searching his face as if trying to memorize it.
“Thank ye, me Laird,” she said softly. “For yer kindness.”
Murdock nodded stiffly. “Rest well, lass. Ye have a long journey ahead of ye tomorrow.”
He turned and walked away before she could respond. Before he could do something foolish like change his mind.
But as he climbed the stairs to find his daughter, Leona’s touch lingered on his skin like a brand. And her scent, heather and something sweet, seemed to follow him through the corridors.
He was doing the right thing. Sending her away. Protecting his daughter from the complications she would bring.
So why did he feel empty inside, even emptier than usual?