same look Calum and Seumas held. Something cautioned her not to ask.
“My laird?” Seumas said through gritted teeth.
A muscle quivered at Ciaran’s jaw. “We have nay choice. We ride to Glenorchy and outrun them. Calum is injured, and I willnae chance Rosalia getting hurt.” Curses fell from his mouth—creative curses she had only heard once before from James.
“Ciaran?” Her stomach was clenched tight.
“Bloody Campbells.”
Six
“Ride now, Rosalia!” Ciaran yelled, his eyes blazing.
Noonie felt her unease and bolted onto the path into the trees, almost causing her to lose her seat. Her heart was racing and felt as though it would spring through her chest. Seumas slowed his mount and gestured for her to pass him.
“Ride, my lady! I will watch your back,” he shouted.
Rosalia rounded a bend and saw Calum stopped in front of her. She yanked on Noonie’s reins to halt, gasping and panting in terror. At least ten mounted men surrounded him, swords unsheathed. Thundering hooves rode directly toward her hard and fast.
She was surely going to die.
As she closed her eyes, the sound of racing hooves passed her by. She sat upon Noonie, frozen still and breathing a short sigh of relief, although she was aware of the danger. Positioning Noonie a safe distance from the path, she gawked at the scene before her.
Ciaran rounded the bend, his face a mask of rage. He shouted commands to the men, and they all turned their mounts… directly into the path of the bloody Campbells. He gave a curt shout to Calum who approached her, issuing a firm warning not to move. Move? She did not think she could budge if she tried.
Galloping hooves approached rapidly but stopped abruptly when a wall of armed men greeted them. Curses flew and the clanking sounds of battle echoed through the air. Ciaran’s arm muscles rippled as he hefted his sword, effortlessly deflecting a blow from a Campbell. Turning, he pummeled his enemy square in the face with the hilt of his sword. The man fell to the ground with a thud. The Campbell men retreated, leaving their fallen comrade behind. A few of Ciaran’s men gave chase while two others pulled the fallen Campbell to his feet.
Ciaran dismounted and placed his sword to the throat of the Campbell. “I could kill ye now,” he bit out. “I will let ye live to deliver fair warning to your laird. I will follow King James’s command, but make nay mistake… I will protect my people. If I find any bloody Campbell setting foot on my land, it will be the last step he takes,” he warned, turning to his men. “Put him on his mount and get that arse off my land.”
The remainder of Ciaran’s men trotted past her, not glancing her way. Did every MacGregor need to be so impressive in size?
“Donna fash yourself. Ye are safe.” Little beads of sweat shimmered on Ciaran’s skin. A lock of thick chestnut hair fell onto his cheek and he pushed it back. She realized he still spoke to her. Why was her mouth suddenly so dry? “Come. We are home,” he said, leading her back onto the path.
They cleared the trees and a huge, gray stone castle stood before her on an island surrounded by green, grassy moss. Mangerton could have fit inside it three times over. It was an elegant castle with a stone barbican with round turrets and square towers. With the changing of the leaves, the mountains surrounding the castle were inundated with color.
She was speechless. Pivoting on Noonie, she tried to scan everything around her. The clean breeze of the loch teased her senses. The water mirrored a deeper color of the sky as small, white waves crashed into Ciaran’s island home. She closed her eyes, trying to imprint the picture into her mind.
Riding single file, they headed to a cabhsair that extended over the water to the island. Traveling under a huge portcullis, they continued through to the courtyard, which bustled with men, women, and children who came out to greet their laird on his return.
Ciaran dismounted
“My laird?” Seumas said through gritted teeth.
A muscle quivered at Ciaran’s jaw. “We have nay choice. We ride to Glenorchy and outrun them. Calum is injured, and I willnae chance Rosalia getting hurt.” Curses fell from his mouth—creative curses she had only heard once before from James.
“Ciaran?” Her stomach was clenched tight.
“Bloody Campbells.”
Six
“Ride now, Rosalia!” Ciaran yelled, his eyes blazing.
Noonie felt her unease and bolted onto the path into the trees, almost causing her to lose her seat. Her heart was racing and felt as though it would spring through her chest. Seumas slowed his mount and gestured for her to pass him.
“Ride, my lady! I will watch your back,” he shouted.
Rosalia rounded a bend and saw Calum stopped in front of her. She yanked on Noonie’s reins to halt, gasping and panting in terror. At least ten mounted men surrounded him, swords unsheathed. Thundering hooves rode directly toward her hard and fast.
She was surely going to die.
As she closed her eyes, the sound of racing hooves passed her by. She sat upon Noonie, frozen still and breathing a short sigh of relief, although she was aware of the danger. Positioning Noonie a safe distance from the path, she gawked at the scene before her.
Ciaran rounded the bend, his face a mask of rage. He shouted commands to the men, and they all turned their mounts… directly into the path of the bloody Campbells. He gave a curt shout to Calum who approached her, issuing a firm warning not to move. Move? She did not think she could budge if she tried.
Galloping hooves approached rapidly but stopped abruptly when a wall of armed men greeted them. Curses flew and the clanking sounds of battle echoed through the air. Ciaran’s arm muscles rippled as he hefted his sword, effortlessly deflecting a blow from a Campbell. Turning, he pummeled his enemy square in the face with the hilt of his sword. The man fell to the ground with a thud. The Campbell men retreated, leaving their fallen comrade behind. A few of Ciaran’s men gave chase while two others pulled the fallen Campbell to his feet.
Ciaran dismounted and placed his sword to the throat of the Campbell. “I could kill ye now,” he bit out. “I will let ye live to deliver fair warning to your laird. I will follow King James’s command, but make nay mistake… I will protect my people. If I find any bloody Campbell setting foot on my land, it will be the last step he takes,” he warned, turning to his men. “Put him on his mount and get that arse off my land.”
The remainder of Ciaran’s men trotted past her, not glancing her way. Did every MacGregor need to be so impressive in size?
“Donna fash yourself. Ye are safe.” Little beads of sweat shimmered on Ciaran’s skin. A lock of thick chestnut hair fell onto his cheek and he pushed it back. She realized he still spoke to her. Why was her mouth suddenly so dry? “Come. We are home,” he said, leading her back onto the path.
They cleared the trees and a huge, gray stone castle stood before her on an island surrounded by green, grassy moss. Mangerton could have fit inside it three times over. It was an elegant castle with a stone barbican with round turrets and square towers. With the changing of the leaves, the mountains surrounding the castle were inundated with color.
She was speechless. Pivoting on Noonie, she tried to scan everything around her. The clean breeze of the loch teased her senses. The water mirrored a deeper color of the sky as small, white waves crashed into Ciaran’s island home. She closed her eyes, trying to imprint the picture into her mind.
Riding single file, they headed to a cabhsair that extended over the water to the island. Traveling under a huge portcullis, they continued through to the courtyard, which bustled with men, women, and children who came out to greet their laird on his return.
Ciaran dismounted
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