“Eoin! Eoin!” Cairstine’s voice was clear as it drew closer, and Eoin realized it was coming from outside. He raced to the door and down the steps as he caught sight of Cairstine gripping her gown, barefoot and battered, running toward him. He leaped down the last four steps and took two paces before his tiny wife barreled into his chest. He gripped her shoulders as she staggered backward, pulling her to his chest.
Without seeing his face or hearing his voice, Cairstine knew it was Eoin. She just knew. She sank into the haven only he offered as his arms shielded her from the rest of the world. She gasped, “Gunns. Arlan.”
Eoin looked over her head, searching for the men who’d attacked his wife. He spotted them at the same time as Ewan, Andrew, and Edward must have because the three men set off after them. Arlan and his friends appeared to be milling about the entrance to the lists.
“There’s a Mackay, too,” Cairstine panted. Eoin lifted her into his arms, trusting his family would capture the miscreants. He carried her into the Great Hall, where gasps greeted them when people saw Cairstine’s condition. Davina ran to them.
“Cair, what happened? Who did this?”
“Mama,” Cairstine cried. Eoin lowered her to her feet, his hands on her waist, refusing to let go, as Davina pulled Cairstine against her. Eoin noticed Fenella clinging to Kennon as tears streamed down her cheeks. He nodded to her, and she ran to wrap her arms around her mother and sister. Eoin stepped back, but Cairstine’s hand flew out behind her, desperately trying to capture Eoin’s. She pulled away from Fenella and Davina, turning to Eoin. “Don’t leave me.”
“Shh,mo leannan. I won’t. I’m here forever.”
A commotion at the entrance to the Great Hall drew people’s attention away from the couple as Ewan, Andrew, Edward, and Fingal pushed three Gunns and a Mackay into the Great Hall. Eoin hadn’t seen Fingal run past, but it didn’t surprise him to see Fingal had his arm wrapped around the Mackay’s neck.
“What is going on here?” Farlane Gunn demanded.
“What’s going on is your son and your men attacked my wife,” Eoin snapped.
“We did not,” Arlan declared.
“Then why were you seen outside, following Cairstine back to the keep.”
“Coincidence,” Arlan asserted. “We left when the fight broke out and decided a tipple of whisky was better than a beating.”
“It looks like you took one though,” Edward Grant shook Arlan. “If you left when the fight started, who broke your nose and stabbed you?”
“Who knows? Half of us are three sheets to the wind,” Arlan tossed his head in the general direction of everyone staring at the scene unfolding.
“That’s a lie,” Cairstine spoke up. She pointed to the single Mackay standing among the Gunns. “He started the fight, and you,” she pointed at Arlan, “used it to drag me out of the keep.”
“You only wish. You came willingly, just like every other time.” Arlan snickered at his own double entendre.
Eoin moved to go for Arlan, but Cairstine stayed his hand. “When?” she demanded. Eoin recognized her tone, and waited, knowing she was setting up the fool.
“Every year for the past six,” Arlan gloated. Cairstine heard the gasps and felt the eyes on her. She drew away from Eoin, holding her dress closed. She’d lost her plaid somewhere while running.
“Is that so?” Cairstine asked. “Fenella, where have I been during the last two gatherings?”
“At court serving Queen Elizabeth.”
“And where I was the year before that?”
“You and I were home because mother was ill.” Fenella answered.
Cairstine nodded, never taking her eyes off Arlan. “Rather difficult to be in two places at once.”
“Well, mayhap it wasn’t every year. But you were asking for it.”
“Did you say six years ago?” Edward’s voice was deathly calm. “That was the last time the Grants held the gathering. You attacked my daughter on my land, while you stayed under my roof, ate my food.” Edward drove his fist into Arlan’s gut, and when the man doubled over, Edward slammed an uppercut that jerked Arlan’s head backwards.
“How dare you touch my son?” Farlane Gunn pushed through the crowd. “How dare you accuse him?”
“How dare he touch my wife?” Eoin demanded.
“It’s my son’s word against that trollop’s. There are plenty of rumors aboot how loose she is at court. My son spoke the truth. She wanted it.”
“Look at me,” Cairstine demanded as she stepped away from Eoin. She waved her hand up and down in front of her. “Does a woman who wants it have to have her dress cut open? Does a woman who wants it end up with bruises across her face. What aboot my appearance makes you think I wanted any of this?”
