Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cameron could not stop himself from thinking about Margo’s lips. Even now, as he lay in bed, the memory of the warmth, the plushness, how easily she responded to him, haunted him like an ancient spirit. Even the wind howling outside seemed to mirror the storm inside his chest.
If I hadnae stopped when I did, I would have ruined her.
As he rolled over, ready to attempt to rest once more, thunder cracked, and the sky seemed to open up. Then, from down the corridor, there was commotion. Before Cameron had a chance to leave his bed, someone screamed.
His mind snapped to the worst-case scenario. He was on his feet in a second, throwing on trews as he grabbed his weapons. When he darted out to the hallway, Margo was already standing there.
“The storm,” she said, her eyes wide, focused on something at the end of the corridor. “It’s… It’s as if the Land is angry.”
“Get back in yer chambers,” he barked, cursing when he followed her gaze.
A wooden shutter had been blown off of its hinges, the oak splintered from the force of the storm winds outside. Water was being blown in, a small puddle already forming. Judging by the sound of the commotion at the rest of the castle, this wasn’t the only damage the building had sustained.
“Me Laird,” Gavin said breathlessly from behind him. Another crack of thunder rattled the entire structure, and the doors seemed to shake on their hinges. “A tree has fallen on the kitchen storage area.”
“A tree?” Cameron asked, stepping past Margo, who was still standing in the corridor, her head swiveling between the two men. “From the wind?”
“Aye, I havenae seen a storm as strong as this in years,” Gavin said. The entire corridor lit up with the bright lightning raging outside. “The Land’s been angry this season.”
“It seems so,” Cameron said, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. “Someone must ride to the village. If the castle is takin’ this kind of hit, then they must be sufferin’ even worse. We must prioritize the fishin’ stores.”
“I will gather a crew of men,” Gavin said before turning on his heel and rushing away.
“I will help fortify the castle,” Margo said, not backing away from Cameron when he turned his attention to her.
“Nay, ye willnae,” he practically growled. Thunder cracked again as if to punctuate his point. “Ye will stay in yer chambers where it is safe. Watch over yer kittens. Bring Eleanor into yer room. The storm is dangerous.”
He did not give her a chance to respond, already heading toward the kitchen stores. The situation there needed to be assessed, and the food moved to a dry part of the castle. He was already trying to put a plan together. The roof would need to be secured, and the debris cleared.
Ach, it will be a long night.
When he walked into the kitchen, the staff was already working dutifully.
Maids and kitchen assistants were carrying dry goods into the Great Hall.
The cook and several of the guards were already clearing away the broken stone and slate.
He approached the group and began working with them, seeing that they had already triaged the situation.
“Report,” Cameron said as he assisted them to pick up a heavy piece of the roof.
Water lashed down on them, the sky twinkling with constant lightning strikes. The wind coming into the castle was icy, though the ambient air was warm and thick like bathwater. The several seconds that he and the cook were outside were enough to soak them through.
“The tree came down about five minutes ago,” the cook said, nodding at the thick trunk that had crushed the corner of the room.
“It missed most of our dry goods, but the rain may have ruined some of our stock. I have the staff movin’ all of it to somewhere more sheltered.
I will see if I cannae use what has been rained on in our next meals when we get this sorted. ”
“Excellent,” Cameron said. He looked at one of the maids, a little girl that should not be helping in an area so dangerous.
He waved her over, and when she stopped in front of him, he said, “Have one of the guards prepare a team of horses to pull the tree away. Then get to work moppin’ up puddles in the corridors.
I will send a team of men to secure the broken windows. ”
“Aye, me Laird,” she said, seeming relieved to be given direction.
As she rushed out of the room, Margo came inside, followed by a guard. Both of them had their arms full of supplies. She had what looked like every single sheet from her chambers, while the guard was carrying a large stack of boards.
“I told ye to stay in yer chambers,” Cameron said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he crossed the room and stopped in front of her. “It is nae safe here.”
“I am Lady MacLeod, am I not?” she challenged as lightning struck outside, setting the sheets aside and looking over at the work being done. “Is it not my duty to help our people in times of crisis?”
“Nae at risk to yer own life,” he grunted as the thunder rolled through the Land. He heard another gust of wind rising with a painful cry, the trees creaking in response. “Ye should be with yer sister and Tilly.”
Margo ignored him, already rushing over to the dry storage and gathering a large sack of flour in her arms. Quickly, she fell into step with everyone else. It seemed as though she were determined to earn the title despite having already been given it.
I will just keep me eye on her, then. There is too much to be done to argue with her.
As more members of the clan arrived in the area, Cameron assigned each of them duties.
The storm seemed to wane, the thunder and lightning growing more distant.
They managed to clear the large chunks of debris in almost total darkness, making room for them to begin securing the roof.
If they did the job well, removing the tree would not knock anything else loose.
“It’s the oldest structure in the castle,” he yelled up to the men who were nailing boards to the weakest parts of the room. “Daenae move too quickly or ye may fall through!”
“Aye, me Laird,” they called back.
His eyes darted away from the ceiling and over to where Margo was wiping a servant’s face with a dry flannel.
She had managed to keep herself relatively dry, mostly staying on the sidelines and organizing the staff with an ease that surprised him.
Though he wasn’t happy that she had disobeyed him, he was pleased that she seemed to understand which parts of the task were less dangerous than others.
Less than an hour passed; the rain was going back and forth between coming down in sheets and shooting into the storage area by the time they had steadied the roof.
Cameron shifted his attention to the work they were doing, trusting that Margo would not get into trouble.
His men had already attached the horses to the tree trunk, and at his mark, they began to pull it away.
The next few moments unfolded so quickly that Cameron would only remember them in flashes.
As the horses surged forward, lightning struck nearby, the thunder crack coming almost immediately afterward. The horses spooked, pulling harder and tearing the trunk to the right. There was a loud crack followed by the stones of the walls rolling hard onto the ground.
Turning around, he saw Margo running toward the mess rather than away. A growl slipped out of his lips, and he went to her, pulling her into his arms and hurrying her toward the far wall. Just as they stepped out of the way, a beam broke and came crashing down in the exact spot she was standing.
I shouldnae have taken me eyes off of her for a single second.
“Ye should have stayed in yer chambers!” Cameron said with more force than necessary, his hand tightening on her forearm. His anger seemed to morph, lashing outwardly at her.
“I wanted to help!” Margo protested, digging her heels in as he began to walk her out of the room. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere that I ken willnae collapse,” he grunted. “Somewhere that I can keep me eye on ye.”
As they left the castle and stepped out into the courtyard, Margo went silent. She did not say another word until they were halfway to the watchtower on the edge of the castle grounds. When she did speak, the words were tight, angry.
“Where could you possibly be taking me?” she demanded, bringing her free hand to her face to wipe away the rain. Lightning struck and, as she continued, the thunder seemed to bolster her anger. “This cannot be any safer than within the castle!”
“The watchtower is the newest buildin’ on the grounds,” he snapped, pulling her faster. “It will withstand the storm, and it is defensible. I can make sure ye stay put.”
When Cameron finally pulled Margo into the watchtower, both of them were soaked to the bone. His hold on her arm was hard enough to bruise. As he led her up the spiral staircase, she tried to yank her arm away. Still, he seemed to refuse to let go.
I do not understand why he is so angry with me. Is it really because I did not listen? He let me be until the beam fell.
It wasn’t until they reached the top floor that he finally let her go. She stumbled a few steps, her wet boots sliding on the smooth stone. When she got her balance back, she whipped around and narrowed her eyes at him.
“You know, for a man that claims I am troublesome, you seem quite determined to keep saving me,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.
Cameron’s face went through a series of emotions that she couldn’t categorize. Then, he said, “Ye are impossible.”
“As are you!” she exclaimed, a shiver running through her.
“Ye’re freezin’,” he scoffed, walking over to the hearth and kneeling in front of it. “Ye should get out of those clothes.”
Her back straightened, her eyes widening. Taking a step back, she said, “I do not think that is necessary.”
“Ye can hide beneath the blankets, but ye will catch your death if ye stay in those clothes,” he said, not looking away from his task.
I just do not know what to make of him.
She stood there for a few beats, shivering stubbornly in her soaking gown, a puddle forming around her feet. The fire roared to life, and she felt a little burst of warmth. It was enough to motivate her to strip out of the icy fabric hanging from her shoulders.
As quickly as she could, she undressed down to her stays. Then, she quickly tucked herself underneath the blankets. Though she was still freezing, the relief was measurable.
“You do not have to keep your back turned to me,” she murmured, blushing despite being completely covered.
Before Cameron turned around, he pulled his doublet off. He hung it off at the back of the chair sitting near the hearth. When he finally turned toward her, she had to avert her eyes.
It was too late, though. She had already seen the chiseled expanse of his chest. He was so muscular, built through years of hard labor and training. Not only did he fight, but he helped his people with the physical work that needed to be completed.
“Ye should sleep,” he said, the low rasp of his voice caressing her ears. A shiver that had nothing to do with the chill in the air went down her spine. “Unless ye believe that stayin’ awake all night is a productive use of yer time.”
Margo couldn’t bring herself to reply, her throat tight with the memory of how his lips felt on hers.
The position she was in was wildly vulnerable, and she could think of nothing else but how intense that moment was.
She did not want to let herself sleep, to leave herself completely in his care in that way.
Eventually, she drifted off into a fitful doze. The sounds of the storm echoed through her dreams. She saw the ceiling caving in, saw herself stuck under it.
Then, the dream morphed. It wasn’t Cameron pulling her free, it was her father. His hands disappeared as soon as she was on her feet, and when she looked around, he was nowhere to be found. She was alone, standing inside a building that was coming down around her.
“No,” she whispered, the word leaving her lips in the dream and in her sleep. “Where…”
“Margo.”
“No!” she whimpered, rolling away from the sound. “I…”
“It is me,” the voice repeated.
The familiarity of it brought her face to the surface, but the rest of her body was still floating in the treacherous waters of her dreamscape. She reached out blindly, rolling over in the too-hard cot. A crack of thunder seemed to urge her closer to the warmth of this familiar voice.
“I’m scared,” she whispered, the words slurred by sleep. “Where is my father? He...”
A pained sound came from the other person, the person that her brain recognized as Cameron. Then, she was being repositioned, pushed toward the edge. A second later, she felt herself being wrapped in strong arms.
“Ye daenae have to be scared,” he said, the statement not quite believable. “I am right here.”
She latched onto the sentiment, anyway. The warmth of his body drew her in, and the tension that had plagued her since they entered the watchtower bled from her body.
It seemed as if the storm outside finally started to quiet down, and the last thing she was aware of before succumbing to a dreamless sleep was Cameron’s hand rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades.