“Ye’re a liar. I ken what really happened. Isawthe bed frame.” She had. It surprised her that no one had broken the headboard into kindling, but they had merely moved it to a storage room. A new one replaced the splintered one. She’d also seen the deep scratches in the wood floor when Magnus brushed aside the rushes. When he’d dragged the wooden piece, it permanently marred the surface.
Louisa turned red and lashed out, swinging her hand toward Saoirse’s face. Wiley grabbed her wrist and forced her arm down. He leaned in and whispered. “Touch ma cousin, and I will beat ye. Today, ma Comyn side is stronger than ma Sinclair. I dinna care if I kill ye.”
He wouldn’t, but Louisa didn’t need to know that. The force with which he held her wrist made her believe he would follow through. There would undoubtedly be a bruise, but Wiley felt no remorse. He was exhausted, injured, hungry, and beyond livid.
“Ye—ye—wouldnae.”
“Ye still have a free hand. Test me and find out.” Wiley towered over Louisa, who was taller than Saoirse. She fought to free her wrist as she stepped away from Wiley.
“Enough. Louisa, go inside. We will talk later.” Harold stomped toward the trio. He made to grab Saoirse, but Wiley, Ric, and Kirk surrounded her.
“Where are the Macraes?” Ric demanded.
“I’m the Macraes’ tánaiste.” A man Kirk’s or Wiley’s age hurried from the keep. “What’s going on?”
“Coll?” Wiley crossed his arms. “Why did Harold Matheson bring us toyerkeep?”
The new arrival looked around. “Why did ye come here, Harold? Where’s ma father and our men?”
Wiley stalked forward, his barrel chest making him an even more impressive sight than the muscular Coll. He glanced down when Coll extended his arm. Disgust marred his striking visage.
“I’m nae shaking yer arm until I ken why a Matheson brought us here after abducting us from an attack his and yer clan led. I want to ken why yer father rode out to greet us instead of helping free us.”
“Ma clan? The Mathesons summoned us to help the Mackenzies against the Rosses. I dinna ken how ye’re involved or why ye and Lady Saoirse are here.” Coll looked at Harold and scowled. “Why did ye come here?”
“We couldnae go to Crannog. It was too close. Besides, it’s where we were told to come.”
“Who told ye?” Coll swept his glance around the newly arrived riders, confused and growing anxious. Whatever brought them to his home could be nothing but trouble. He’d already learned it followed Louisa everywhere. He didn’t know how she was involved, but she had to be.
“Give me ma wife!”
A baritone echoed through the bailey, the sound reverberating off every building as a horse charged forward. Ric and Kirk barely stepped aside in time as Magnus’s horse barreled forward. He leaned over the side and snatched Saoirse as she reached for him. He pulled her onto his lap and spun his horse around. He was back out of the gate before anyone understood what had happened.
“Magnus,” Saoirse breathed, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder. He kept riding past those who he arrived with until they were out of anyone’s earshot. When he reined in, his hands ran over her body, reassuring himself that she was as hale as she appeared. She smattered kisses on his cheeks and neck as she clung to him. He cupped her jaw and pressed the most tender kiss imaginable to her lips. It continued until they were breathless. Once more, they embraced.
“Mo sheud, mo chridhe.” My jewel, my heart. Magnus whispered it over and over between kisses.
“I’m safe,mo ghaol. I’m tired and hungry, and I’m sore from the hours in the saddle, but I’m all right. They didna do aught but nae allow us off the horses. We only just arrived.”
“I ken. We spotted ye in the distance. I couldnae wait to get to ye, so I rode in without the others. What happened?”
Saoirse glanced back at her extended family, who watched them but kept their distance. “Can I tell ye when I tell them? Naught happened that only ye should ken.”
Magnus nodded and nudged his horse forward. But he wasn’t in a hurry to share his wife with anyone, even if it was family. When they reached the others, she noticed how weary her father appeared. She reached for Alex as Magnus brought his horse alongside her father’s. He pulled her onto his lap and nearly smothered her. Magnus’s arms felt painfully empty once more, but he couldn’t imagine how Alex felt. The man had comforted him like a father, but there’d been little Alex knew to say. Magnus saw Alex with Liam. He’d watched Liam embrace his son as Alex had embraced him. He’d seen Alex’s shoulders shake, so he’d given them space. He was certain the others saw it, too. None of the Sinclair men were too proud to admit their heartache.
“Da.” Saoirse tried to tap her father’s chest, but she couldn’t move, her arms caught between them. “Canna breathe.”
Alex eased his hold, but he didn’t let go. His heart felt whole again. He’d despaired that he would have to tell Brighde that something happened to their daughter.
“Lass?” Liam had dismounted and walked to Alex’s horse. Saoirse slid down and into her grandfather’s arms. “Ma heart is whole again.” He expressed the same sentiments Alex and Magnus felt. The rest of the Sinclair men felt similarly.
“I’m all right. Wiley, Kirk, and Ric are in the bailey.” Saoirse looked around and realized neither Tavish nor Tate were there. She looked toward the gate and saw into the bailey. Tavish had both his sons held against his chest. Other than the Sutherlands and Mackays, she knew no other family who were so demonstrative.
She’d heard people mock them at the Highland Gatherings, but without fail, every year, her family trounced everyone else. Everyone knew the Sinclairs often threw races to allow other clans the chance to place. But for more than two decades, the only person who could defeat Callum at knife throwing was the sister who he’d taught to wield one. Mairghread only competed with the men on occasions, but it was enough to remind everyone that they should underestimate no one in the Sinclairs.
That’s why everyone sat or stood in disbelief that they’d had to chase four members of the Clan Sinclair almost the breadth of Scotland. Liam mounted his horse and maneuvered between Tristan and Hamish. Seamus was on the other side of Tristan, and Monty was beside Hamish. Saoirse accepted Magnus’s help back onto his horse, and the group rode forward, the five lairds leading the way. The three captive lairds rode amongst Thormud, Wee Liam, Alec, Hamish Óg, Blake, and Torquil. They were barely visible within the circle the six young men made.
“Da, they’re hale,” Tavish called as he eased his hold on his sons. He glanced at Ric and Kirk before ruffling Wiley’s hair.
