Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The gates of Castle Calibroch opened to the thunder of hooves, and the courtyard swelled with life as the riders returned. Word had spread like wildfire, and the clan gathered in a great mass, voices rising in relief and triumph at the sight of Eloise alive.
James barely noticed them, though he heard the cheers, his focus fixed entirely on the woman seated before him. As he dismounted, he turned and lifted her down as though she weighed nothing, his hands firm and unwilling to let her go.
“Easy now,” he said.
The moment her feet touched the ground, the crowd parted, and Beatrice came rushing forward with a cry.
“Eloise!” Beatrice flung herself into her cousin’s arms, her voice breaking as she clutched her tight.
“Bea,” Eloise whispered, her own voice trembling as she returned the embrace. “I’m here… I’m safe.”
“I thought I had lost ye…again,” Beatrice said through tears, pulling back only to grasp her face as if to assure herself she was real. “Daenae ever frighten me like this. I cannae handle another disappearance.”
Eloise gave a weak, tearful laugh. “I shall try me best.”
Fiona pushed her way through next, eyes wide with worry. “Miss Eloise!” she cried, wrapping her arms around her without hesitation. “I was that afeared for ye, I couldnae sleep a wink.”
“Thank ye, Fiona,” Eloise said, touched, returning the embrace gently. “Ye are too kind.”
James stepped forward then, his voice cutting through the noise with quiet authority. “Fiona.”
The maid turned at once. “Aye, me Laird?”
“Have a bath drawn and food brought to Miss Eloise’s chamber. At once.”
“Aye, me Laird,” she said.
“I'll help,” Beatrice said.
James bent and lifted Eloise into his arms once more, holding her securely against his chest.
“James,” she said softly, startled, her hand coming to rest against his shoulder.
“I willnae hear yer protest,” he replied, already striding toward the keep. “I’ll take care of ye.”
She looked up at him, something warm and uncertain in her eyes. “Ye neednae carry me everywhere, ye ken.”
“Aye,” he said quietly, meeting her gaze, “but I want to.”
Her breath caught slightly, and she said no more as he carried her through the corridors, past watching eyes and whispered murmurs, until they reached her chamber.
The room was warm when they entered, the fire stoked high.
James set her down gently, though his hands lingered at her waist a moment longer than necessary.
For a heartbeat, he simply looked at her, her disheveled hair, her torn gown, the faint marks of her ordeal, and something fierce and possessive stirred within him.
He forced it down, drawing a slow breath, reminding himself she needed care, not the weight of his desire.
A few minutes later, a bath was placed beside the hearth. A tray set on the table with fresh bread, roasted meat, cheese, steaming broth, tea, and a small cup of whisky, the scent rich and comforting.
“Let me help ye into the bath,” he said quietly, reaching for the ties of her dress.
Eloise hesitated only a moment before nodding, her voice soft. “Very well.”
His fingers worked carefully, loosening the fabric, though every brush of his knuckles against her skin sent a dangerous heat through him. He clenched his jaw, focusing on the task, not the way her breath hitched slightly beneath his touch.
“I had never felt sicker, than when I learned ye were gone,” he said.
She looked at him, her expression gentling. “For a moment… did ye think I had left?”
“Aye,” he admitted, his hands stilling briefly. “For one cursed moment, I thought ye had run from me.”
“Nay,” she said firmly, reaching for his wrist. “I would never do that without telling ye.”
He met her eyes, something in his chest easing at her words. “I ken that now,” he said quietly. “And I’ll never doubt it again.”
He finished untying the dress. Eloise turned toward him and let the dress fall to the floor.
He sucked in a sharp breath of air, “Ye are a bonnie, lass. Ye will drive me mad standing there like so.”
“Then perhaps I should get in the bath,” she smiled.
She stepped into the bath with his help, the warm water drawing a soft sigh from her lips as she sank beneath its surface.
“James, it was Mairead,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter now. “She arranged it all.”
James’s expression hardened, though he kept his tone controlled. “Aye. I ken that now. She is locked in her chamber, and she will face a reckoning for what she’s done.”
Eloise nodded, though a flicker of unease crossed her face. “I daenae wish harm upon her… but I cannae forgive it either.”
“Nor should ye,” he said firmly.
For a moment, silence settled between them, thick and heavy with all that had passed and all that remained unsaid. James reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering just a fraction too long.
“I thought I had lost ye,” he said again, as though the words still needed saying.
Eloise’s eyes searched his. “But ye didnae.”
“Nay,” he said, his voice rough, “and I willnae let that happen again.”
Something shifted between them then, something undeniable. Without thinking, he leaned down and kissed her.
The kiss was not wild as before, but deep and steady, filled with relief, with gratitude, with everything he had nearly lost. Eloise responded at once, her hand rising to his jaw, her fingers curling there as though she needed him as much as he needed her.
James felt it surge through him again, that dangerous, consuming desire, but this time it was tempered by something deeper, something steadier. He broke the kiss only slightly, resting his forehead against hers, his breath unsteady.
“Ye drive me to madness, lass,” he said, his voice thick with desire.
Eloise gave a soft, breathless laugh. “Then we are evenly matched, for ye do the same to me.”
He smiled faintly, though his eyes remained intent upon her. “Rest now,” he said, though his hand lingered against her cheek.
“Ye’ve been through enough.”
But even as he stepped back, giving her space, every part of him resisted the distance, as though leaving her side, even for a moment, was a risk he could no longer bear.
“Tell me true, Eloise,” Beatrice said, her voice low and urgent, “are ye truly unharmed?”
The morning light filtered softly through the narrow windows of Eloise’s chamber. Eloise offered a small, reassuring smile, though her fingers twisted in the blanket.
“Aye, I was fortunate,” she said gently. “Drummond couldnae find the priest in time for the ceremony.”
Beatrice frowned slightly. “How did that come to be?”
Eloise exhaled softly. “Turns out he was off drunk somewhere, and they didnae find him until the next day. We were set to marry at sunset, but James and Callum arrived before then.”
Beatrice clasped her hands together. “That is a blessing, cousin. A true blessing. Ye were saved from the prison of being married to Drummond.”
Eloise nodded, though the memory sent a chill through her, the echo of Drummond’s voice still lingering in her mind. She pushed the thought away, unwilling to let fear take root now that she was safe.
“I cannae believe how close it came,” she said.
Beatrice reached for her hand, squeezing it tight. “But ye are here now, and that is all that matters.”
A strange warmth moved through her. “Aye,” she said quietly, more to herself than to Beatrice.
Eloise smiled faintly, though her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to James, his fury, his desperation, the way he rode across the Highlands to rescue her. Then he had held her as though she were something precious.
A knock sounded at the door, and both women turned as it opened. James stepped inside, his presence filling the room at once, his gaze going immediately to Eloise as though drawn by instinct.
“Good mornin’,” he said, nodding briefly to Beatrice.
“Laird,” Beatrice replied with a small curtsy, her tone warm.
James shifted slightly, his focus never leaving Eloise. “If ye daenae mind, I need to take Eloise with me on some business in the castle.”
Beatrice’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “I daenae mind at all. How can I, when ye’ve saved her life?”
She gave Eloise’s hand a final squeeze before rising. “I shall leave ye to it.” And with that, she slipped from the room, closing the door behind her.
Eloise looked up at James, her brow furrowing slightly. “Where are we going?” she asked, rising slowly from the bed.
He did not answer at once, only held out his hand for her.
“To do something that should have been done long ago,” he said at last. Her confusion deepened, but she placed her hand in his nonetheless, allowing him to lead her from the chamber.
They walked in silence through the corridors, his grip steady, his expression unreadable.
Eloise’s thoughts raced, unease curling in her stomach as they approached a guarded door she had never seen before.
James nodded to the guard. “Unlock it.” The heavy bolt slid back with a dull scrape, and he pushed the door open, guiding Eloise inside.
The room was dim and cold, and at its center sat Mairead, her posture stiff, her face pale from a night without rest.
Eloise froze, her breath catching sharply. “Ye…” she gasped, her voice trembling with disbelief and anger. “How could ye?”
Mairead looked up, her eyes red with tears, her composure crumbling at the sight of them.
“I thought… I thought I was doing what was right,” she said, her voice breaking. “For me heart… for me future.”
Eloise stared at her, something fierce and unyielding rising within her. “Ye call that right?” she demanded, her voice sharpening.
James stepped forward then, his presence commanding, his tone cold as winter steel. “Yer position here has collapsed, Mairead,” he said, his words precise and unyielding. “What ye believed to be destiny was nothing more than entitlement dressed as strategy.”
Mairead flinched, shaking her head. “Nay… ye cannae mean that,” she whispered. “The alliance… between us…”
James cut her off. “Is destroyed,” he said flatly. “And ye will face the consequences of yer actions. Me guards will escort ye to yer father, Laird Cameron. I am sending word of all that has occurred, along with me order that ye are to remain within his castle for two years.”
Mairead’s eyes widened in horror. “Ye cannae do this to me!” she cried.
“I can,” James replied without hesitation, his voice hard. “And I ken yer father well. He is an honorable man, and he will be ashamed of what ye’ve done.”
Mairead’s gaze snapped to Eloise then, her expression twisting with bitterness. “This is all yer fault,” she spat.
Eloise felt something shift inside her, the last remnants of doubt burning away as she lifted her chin.
“Nay,” she said firmly, stepping forward. “This is nay one’s fault but yer own.”
Mairead recoiled slightly, stunned into silence.
“Ye act like a child,” Eloise continued, her voice cutting, each word deliberate. “And now ye will be treated like one, locked away because ye couldnae govern yer own behavior.”
Mairead’s lips trembled, anger and humiliation warring in her eyes. “Ye think ye are better than me?” she hissed.
Eloise met her gaze without flinching. “I think I would never stoop so low as to betray those who gave me shelter,” she said coolly. “Ye lived under his roof, had his trust, and still it wasnae enough for ye.” Her voice hardened further. “Nay wonder he didnae choose ye.”
The words struck their mark, and Mairead let out a broken, furious cry, rising from her chair in a storm of rage. “I was meant to be his!” she shouted, her composure unraveling completely. “It was supposed to be me!”
James stepped between them and gave Mairead a look that made her stop. “That is enough,” he said.
Eloise said nothing more, though her heart pounded in her chest, the force of her own words echoing in her mind. She had not known she possessed such fire, such certainty, but now that it had come forth, she could not deny it.
Eloise felt James grab her hand. He led her toward the door.
Mairead’s voice rose again behind them, wild and desperate, but James did not look back. He led Eloise from the room, the door closing heavily behind them, cutting off the sound of Mairead’s fury.
Out in the corridor, silence fell between them, thick and charged.
Eloise exhaled slowly, her emotions still swirling, her pulse refusing to steady.
She had faced Mairead, spoken truths she had long held back, and yet it left her shaken in ways she could not fully name.
James glanced down at her, his expression softer now, though something fierce still lingered beneath.
“Ye handled that well,” he said quietly.
Eloise let out a small breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didnae ken I had it in me.”
James’s gaze lingered on her, something like admiration flickering there.
“There is much about ye I am still learnin',” he said.
Eloise nodded but her thoughts drifted once more into dangerous territory.
For though Mairead has been dealt with, and justice has been served, I cannae ignore the truth, me time here is still bound by an end, and whatever lay between us remains as uncertain as ever.