Chapter 13
For the space of several seconds, neither of them had the strength to move.
The fire blazed upon the distant horizon, staining the night sky with shades of orange and crimson.
Great plumes of smoke curled upward into the darkness, carried across the Highlands by the restless wind.
Even from miles away, the destruction felt enormous.
It transformed the peaceful evening landscape into something unsettling, as though the land itself had been wounded.
Merith stared at it in horror.
Suddenly every story she had heard in recent days aligned with dreadful precision.
Villages struggling beneath impossible burdens.
Neighbors forced into debt. Estates weakened by disasters that always seemed to benefit Murdoch Carnegie.
Each incident had appeared isolated before.
Now they formed a pattern she could no longer ignore.
“Locke,” she breathed. “We have tae help them,” she said.
His gaze shifted toward her immediately. “Merith—”
“We cannae simply stand here,” she added desperately.
The words burst from her before she could stop them. Already she was stepping forward, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs as images crowded her mind.
She could imagine families fleeing burning homes, children crying in terror, and livestock trapped inside collapsing barns. The thought of innocent people suffering while she remained safely behind stone walls felt unbearable.
“We must go,” she said.
Locke caught her wrist before she could take another step. “Listen tae me.”
“Nay!”
“Merith.”
“We have tae help them.” The urgency in her voice surprised even her.
She rarely raised her voice. Years of training and expectation had taught her restraint, composure, and obedience. Yet those lessons seemed meaningless while she watched an entire corner of the Highlands burn.
Locke stepped closer. The wind tugged at his curls while firelight flickered faintly across the hard planes of his face.
“This isnae a fight we can win tonight,” he said.
His calmness only fueled her frustration. “What does that even mean?”
“It means exactly what I said.”
“People could be dyin’.”
“Aye.”
The agreement startled her. He wasn’t dismissing the danger. He knew it. That somehow made it worse.
“We’re two people,” he continued quietly. “By the time we’d reach the estate, the fire would already be spreadin’. We dinnae even ken what started it.”
“I ken enough.”
His jaw tightened. “So dae I.”
The distant blaze crackled against the darkness, growing larger with every passing minute.
Merith pulled against his grip. “We must at least try.”
“And if we’re recognized?” he asked.
She hesitated. Locke pressed forward immediately. “If Murdoch sees us ridin’ toward that fire in the middle o’ the night, what then?”
“I dinnae care,” she insisted.
“I care.”
The sharpness in his voice made her blink. Locke rarely sounded angry with her. Now something fierce flashed inside those blue eyes.
“If anythin’ happens tae ye because ye rushed into danger, I’ll never forgive myself,” he said.
The words struck hard. For a moment the fire, the fear, the confusion all seemed to fade beneath the weight of what he had just said.
His concern wasn’t strategic. It wasn’t practical. It was personal. Very personal.
Merith swallowed, yet the flames continued climbing into the sky. People were suffering. She could not ignore that.
“We cannae simply leave them.” Merith shook her head.
Locke’s expression softened slightly. “Nay.” The answer surprised her. “We cannae.”
Hope surged briefly but then he shook his head.
“But ye’re still comin’ back tae the keep,” he said.
Her frustration returned immediately. “Locke—”
“No.” His tone left little room for argument. “We’re already pushin’ our luck. Murdoch is watchin’ ye closely. If ye disappear tonight and somebody notices, everythin’ changes.”
Merith opened her mouth and then closed it. Then, she tried again.
“Ye’re askin’ me tae abandon them,” she said.
“Nay.” His voice lowered. “I’m askin’ ye tae trust me.”
Trust. Not long ago she would have laughed at the notion. Now it felt far more dangerous.
Because she did trust him. Against all reason. Against all caution. Against every lesson she had ever been taught.
After several moments, she finally nodded once. Locke exhaled slowly, then guided her back into the keep. Her eyes kept returning to the glow on the horizon. A scar against the darkness. A reminder. A warning.
Locke felt the tension radiating through her. More than once he nearly reached for her hand. Each time he stopped himself, though.
The temptation had become increasingly difficult to resist. Ever since the kiss. Especially after the kiss. His thoughts returned to it with infuriating frequency.
The softness of her lips. The warmth of her hand against his chest. The certainty with which she had chosen him.
Not Murdoch. Him.
For a man who had spent most of his life avoiding attachment, the realization should have been terrifying. Instead, it felt dangerously close to happiness which was perhaps even worse because happiness was something men like him rarely kept.
By the time they were back at her chamber, dawn still remained hours away.
The wind had loosened several strands of dark blonde hair from her braid. They danced softly against her cheeks. She looked exhausted, heartbroken, determined and beautiful at the same time. Far too beautiful.
“Merith.”
She looked at him.
His expression gentled. “I’ll go.”
Confusion flickered across her face. “What?”
“I’ll go tae the estate to help,” he confirmed.
Hope appeared immediately. “Truly?”
“Aye.”
Relief flooded her features. Then concern followed close behind. “Ye could be caught.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That sounded remarkably worried.”
“I am worried.” The admission escaped before she could stop it.
Neither looked away. At last, Locke reached forward and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll come back.”
The promise was quiet and simple. Yet she believed it.
When Locke left and Merith entered her chamber, the room felt unbearably empty. A small fire smoldered within the hearth while moonlight spilled across the stone floor. Shona slept soundly in the next room. Everything appeared normal. Yet nothing felt normal.
Merith changed into a simple linen sleeping gown and sat upon the edge of her bed.
Then she waited.
The hours crawled. Every creak of timber made her glance toward the door. Every gust of wind against the windows made her sit upright.
She tried reading and failed. She tried praying and failed at that too. Her thoughts always returned to the same place. The fire. The villagers. Locke. Mostly Locke.
By the time the door finally opened, she was beginning to wonder whether dawn would arrive first.
She rose immediately. “Locke.”
He stepped inside and quietly shut the door behind him. Relief struck her so hard she nearly crossed the room and embraced him without thinking. She barely managed to stop herself.
His clothes smelled strongly of smoke. Ash dusted his cloak. Exhaustion shadowed his features and the sight made her heart sink.
“It was bad.” The answer came before she even asked.
Locke removed his cloak slowly.
Merith’s stomach tightened. “What happened?”
He looked toward the hearth, and for several moments that seemingly lasted for too long, he said nothing.
When he finally spoke, his voice sounded rough. “The fire spread faster than anyone expected.”
Her chest ached. “Were people hurt?”
“A few.” He paused. “But most escaped unharmed.”
The small measure of relief barely helped.
“There was little tae save by the time we arrived,” he said.
Merith lowered herself onto the edge of the bed. The image formed easily in her mind. Homes reduced to charred ruins. Families losing everything. Children watching entire lives disappear into smoke.
Her eyes burned, and then tears finally came. She tried to stop them.
The first tear slipped down her cheek. Then another. And another.
Locke crossed the room without hesitation. “Merith.”
She shook her head. “I saw them.”
His brow furrowed. “The villagers.”
Her voice trembled. “The ones in the dungeon. The people in that village. And now this.”
More tears followed.
“How many lives has he ruined?” she asked.
Locke crouched before her gently as though she might break. His thumb brushed away a tear. “Too many.”
The honesty somehow made her cry harder because she knew it was true. Without thinking, she leaned toward him. Locke gathered her into his arms. There was no teasing. No clever remarks. No flirtation. Only comfort.
His hand moved slowly along her back. The fire crackled softly within the hearth as they stayed like that for a while.
Eventually Merith drew back slightly. “Stay with me.”
The words emerged as little more than a whisper. Locke looked at her. Every sensible thought told him to leave. Every instinct warned him this was dangerous. Yet one look at her tear-stained face destroyed whatever resolve remained.
“Are ye certain?” he asked.
“Aye.”
His hand settled gently at her waist, and then he kissed her slowly. He gave her every chance to stop this. But she didn’t.
Instead, she reached for him and the distance between them disappeared.
The kiss deepened naturally, carried by days of stolen glances, lingering touches, and feelings neither had managed to suppress.
His hands moved to her hair, loosening what remained of her braid so that her dark blonde strands spilled freely across her shoulders.
She felt the warmth of him like a fire she had no desire to escape.
“Merith.” Her name in his mouth sounded different. It was lower, and more careful. It was as though he understood the weight of the moment and refused to treat it lightly.
“Dinnae stop,” she whispered.
At that point, his expression changed. The restraint he had worn all evening finally broke. He cupped her face in both hands and kissed her again. The kiss was so slow and tender that it made her chest ache.