Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Morning mist clung to the stone walls of the courtyard, drifting down from the hills like pale smoke. The castle was awake, but the far end of the yard belonged almost entirely to the four men gathered there.
Domhnall leaned back against the low stone bench, with his arms folded across his chest as he watched the fight unfold before him.
“Too slow, Colin,” he called calmly.
Colin did not bother looking at him. He was in the middle of circling Ruaridh with two wooden practice swords.
He moved like a shadow that was precise and quiet.
Ruaridh, by contrast, fought like a storm.
The Wolf of the Western Isles lunged forward with a grin that promised violence and delight in equal measure.
Their blades cracked together.
“Careful,” Niall drawled from beside Domhnall. “If ye break Colin’s nose, he will spend the next year planning revenge.”
“I already am,” Colin replied without missing a strike.
Ruaridh barked a laugh. “Aye, but ye’ve been planning revenge since we were sixteen.”
“That is justified.”
“Ye lost that fight fair and square.”
“I slipped.”
“Ye tripped over yer own foot.” The comment made all four men laugh.
Steel cracked again. Domhnall watched the exchange with quiet satisfaction. It had been years since all four of them had stood together like this, unburdened by council disputes or clan politics.
Men feared these lairds. Men whispered their names across the Highlands like warnings. But moments like this belonged only to them.
Niall stretched his long legs before him, looking far more like a court gentleman than a Highland warlord.
His voice carried lazy amusement. “Five coins says Ruaridh ends it with brute force.”
“Three says Colin trips him,” Domhnall replied with a smirk.
Niall turned his head slightly. “Ye are betting against the man who commands fleets.”
“I am betting against the man who believes subtlety is a virtue.”
Ruaridh swung hard at Colin and shouted across the courtyard. “I heard that!”
“Ye were meant to,” Domhnall answered loud enough for him to hear.
Ruaridh lunged again. Colin stepped aside at the last moment. Ruaridh’s momentum carried him forward two steps before he regained balance.
Niall chuckled. “There it is.”
“Nae yet,” Domhnall murmured.
The two fighters circled again. Colin tilted his head slightly, then he feinted left.
Ruaridh reacted instantly, and in the next breath Colin hooked his foot neatly behind Ruaridh’s ankle. Ruaridh hit the ground with a thunderous thud. Silence lasted exactly one second, then Domhnall burst into laughter. Niall followed immediately.
“Three coins,” Domhnall said calmly.
Ruaridh lay on his back staring at the sky. “That was treachery.”
“That was strategy,” Colin replied, offering him a hand.
Ruaridh slapped it away and hauled himself up.
“I demand a rematch.”
“Ye demand many things.”
Domhnall shook his head. “Seven years since we fought side by side, and ye still lose the same way.”
Ruaridh wiped dust from his plaid. “I was distracted by the smug look on Colin’s face.”
Colin’s expression did not change. “Excuse me very much, but that is me natural expression.”
Niall leaned back further on the bench. “I believe that is what makes people nervous around ye.”
“They should be.”
Domhnall studied the three men quietly. They were very different creatures. Ruaridh was as wild and brutal as the western seas. Colin was cold and calculating. Niall was polished and charming but hid sharper teeth than most men ever noticed.
Yet the bond between them ran deeper than clan borders, forged over years of blood, war, and survival. People called them powerful, feared them and resented them. But here, in the quiet corner of the courtyard, they were simply four men who had nearly died together many times.
Niall nudged Domhnall lightly with his elbow. “Ye are unusually cheerful this morning.”
“I am,” Domhnall shrugged.
“Remarkable.”
Ruaridh dropped heavily onto the bench beside them.
“That is because he is married now.”
Domhnall rolled his eyes.
“Careful,” he said dryly. “Or I will remind ye that the Crown nearly forced the same upon ye.”
Ruaridh grinned without the slightest remorse. “Aye, but I escaped with me freedom intact.”
“Fer now,” Niall said lazily. “Give it time.”
Colin wiped dust from his hands and came to stand before them, the wooden practice blade resting loosely against his shoulder.
“All marriages begin with optimism,” he said. “Most of them end with negotiation.”
Ruaridh leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “So tell us, Dom,” he said. “Did ye terrify the poor woman last night or did she terrify ye?”
Domhnall gave him a long look. “Nay one did anything of the sort.”
Ruaridh frowned. “Well, that sounds disappointing.”
“It was… civil.”
Niall lifted a brow. “Civil?”
Domhnall exhaled slowly. The three of them were watching him with the familiar patience of men who had shared too many battles to be easily misled. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I offered her a white marriage.”
Ruaridh blinked. Colin’s expression sharpened slightly.
Niall smiled. “Well, that certainly daesnae explain the cheerfulness.”
Ruaridh turned to stare at Domhnall. “Ye offered what?”
“A white marriage.”
“Aye, I heard the words. I’m trying tae understand why ye would say them.”
Domhnall shrugged. “It was part of the agreement we made before the claim.”
Colin crossed his arms. “And now?”
Domhnall looked toward the training yard for a moment before answering.
“And now,” he said carefully, “I am beginning tae suspect it wasnae me most intelligent decision.”
Ruaridh barked a laugh loud enough to startle two passing guards. “There it is!”
Niall chuckled quietly. “What changed yer mind?”
Domhnall hesitated. “I… desire her.”
The words settled over the courtyard with surprising weight. Ruaridh leaned back with obvious satisfaction.
“Aye. That sounds more like a marriage.”
Colin tilted his head. “Ye didnae anticipate that?”
“I anticipated many things.”
“Desire was nae one of them?”
“Nae immediately,” Domhnall admitted.
Niall looked thoughtful. “And daes she ken this?”
Domhnall frowned slightly. “Nay.”
“Why nae?”
“Because I gave me word.”
Ruaridh snorted. “Ye are the only man I ken who would promise celibacy tae a beautiful woman and then suffer fer it like a monk.”
Domhnall shot him a flat look. “Yer sympathy is overwhelming.”
Colin studied him with quiet curiosity. “And how did the lady respond tae the arrangement?”
Domhnall considered that. “She seemed… relieved.”
Niall hummed softly. “Only?”
Domhnall hesitated again. “And slightly displeased.”
Ruaridh leaned forward immediately. “Displeased?”
“A wee bit.”
“Now, that sounds promising.”
Domhnall shrugged. “It might have been me imagination.”
Niall shook his head slowly. “It was nae.”
Domhnall glanced at him. “Ye are very confident.”
Niall smiled faintly. “I watched her during the wedding feast.”
“And?”
“She couldnae take her eyes off ye,” Niall divulged in a conspiratorial manner.
Ruaridh grinned. “Aye, I noticed that as well.”
Colin nodded once. “She looks at ye the way people look at storms.”
Domhnall frowned. “Contrary tae what ye may believe, that is nae reassuring.”
“It is admiration,” Colin said calmly. “Mixed with curiosity.”
“And something else,” Niall added.
Domhnall folded his arms. “Ye three are inventing things.”
Ruaridh shook his head. “Nay, we are telling ye tae stop being a fool.”
“Careful.” Domhnall gave him a warning look.
Ruaridh ignored it. “If ye want the woman, speak tae her.”
“I gave her me word,” Domhnall reminded them.
“Then renegotiate.”
“That is nae how promises work.”
“It is exactly how marriages work,” Ruaridh chuckled.
Colin spoke more quietly. “She chose ye during the Masquerade.”
Domhnall’s jaw tightened slightly. “She merely agreed tae the arrangement.”
“She also rode across half the Highlands with ye,” Colin continued. “Argued with yer Council and climbed yer castle walls.”
Niall nodded. “She is nae behaving like a woman who wishes tae remain distant.”
Ruaridh clapped his hands once. “So speak tae her.”
Domhnall stared at the ground a moment. “I will.”
“When?” Ruaridh asked.
“Soon,” Domhnall replied, already turning away from them.
Ruaridh leaned back again with satisfaction. “Good.”
Niall stretched his legs. “I give it three days.”
“Two,” Ruaridh said.
Colin looked thoughtful. “One.”
Domhnall sighed. “Ye three are insufferable.”
“And correct,” Niall said.
At that exact moment something clattered loudly behind them. All four men turned sharply. A wooden bucket had tipped near the far wall, rolling slowly across the stones. The courtyard beyond it was empty.
Ruaridh stood immediately, watching the shadows along the wall.
“Who’s there?”
Silence answered. Domhnall rose more slowly, his eyes narrowing as he studied the space around the fallen bucket. A few guards crossed the distant courtyard, but none close enough to have caused the noise.
Colin walked toward the wall and glanced behind the stack of training shields, but there was nothing. He straightened.
“Probably the wind.”
“There is nay wind,” Ruaridh muttered.
Domhnall looked once more at the empty corner of the courtyard. The sensation of being overheard lingered for a moment longer. Then he shook it off.
“Back tae the match,” he said.
Ruaridh grinned again, already picking up the practice blade.