A quiet laugh, low and rough, escaped from his lips, curling through the air like smoke. “Sleep well, Catherine.”
Her name lingered as she turned, and though she didn’t look back, he watched her until the door opened and the night air rushed in. The sound of rain swallowed her steps, and the faint whisper of her skirts faded down the path toward the keep.
For a long while, he stood there among the horses, the echo of her voice still clinging to the rafters. His hands flexed once at his sides before he let them fall.
Better stone than fire,he’d said. God help him, he’d meant it.
Because fire like that didn’t burn clean—it consumed. And if he wasn’t careful, she’d be the end of every bit of reason he had left.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sleep had been a stranger that night.
Aidan lay awake long after the fire in his chamber had died, staring at the dark line where the wall met the ceiling, the echo of her voice still threading through his thoughts. He could not shut out the sharpness of her tone, the heat in her words, the look in her eyes when she’d defied him in the stable. He’d seen fire before, but nothing that burned like her.
He’d tried to reason with himself. Told his mind that she was only his charge, that his duty began and ended with keeping her safe. But reason had little hold over memory, and his memory was a traitor. It returned again and again to the curve of her mouth when she’d saidfreedom, to the way her breath had quickened in the lamplight, to the faint tremor in her hands when she’d finally turned away.
When dawn broke grey and cold, Aidan rose before the bell had sounded. The chill bit at his skin as he dressed, pulling his plaid over his shoulder, fastening the clasp at his chest with adeliberate hand. The weight of the sword at his hip steadied him, as it always did.
There was work to be done. Discipline to restore. A man who could not master his own thoughts had no business commanding others.
Outside, the wind carried the scent of wet earth and pine. The courtyard glistened with the remnants of rain, puddles gathering between the stones. He crossed it in long strides, the chill air cutting through the last of the night’s unrest.
The clang of steel reached him before he saw them. The men were already gathered in the training yard, their breath misting in the morning air, blades flashing as they sparred in pairs.
Aidan paused at the edge of the yard, letting the sight settle him. He’d built these men from nothing—farmers’ sons and drifters and soldiers who’d lost faith. They followed him because he demanded it, because he made them see that order was the only thing between them and ruin.
Today, that order would tighten. He would make sure of it.
“Gather in,” he said, his voice cutting through the noise.
The men straightened at once, stepping back from their partners. The scrape of boots and the ring of metal filled the air as they formed a line. Gordon was among them, tall and broad,his plaid slung loose across his chest, a grin already playing at the corner of his mouth.
Aidan let the silence stretch, his gaze moving over each face. Some were young, barely more than boys. Others had fought beside him for years. All of them knew that silence meant gravity.
“We’ll be changin’ the trainin’ schedule,” he said at last. “From now on, drills will start an hour earlier and run till the noon bell. Nay exceptions. Patrols will double their routes—east tae the forest’s edge, west tae the loch. I want eyes on every ridge between here and the border.”
A murmur rippled through the men. Gordon raised a brow. “Doublin’ patrols, eh? What’s stirred this sudden vigilance?”
Aidan crossed his arms, the motion slow, deliberate. “I ken the Campbells are movin’ faster than we’d like tae believe. They’ve been gatherin’ men under Argyll’s banner, and if they push north, we’ll be their first mark.”
The words settled heavy. He could see the tension in their shoulders, the way their hands shifted unconsciously toward their hilts.
Gordon frowned. “We’ve heard the rumors, aye, but ye think they’ll dare come this far?”
“I think they’ll go where they please until someone reminds them whose land it is,” Aidan said. “And I’ll nae be caught unprepared when they dae.”
He paced before them, the cold air biting at his lungs. “We’ve MacDonald blood under this roof now—all three o’ Keppoch’s daughters. Campbell has reason enough tae test our walls. He’ll think the Camerons too proud tae share shelter with their old rivals.”
Gordon’s grin returned, faint but wry. “So that’s it, then. The laird’s concern is fer the ladies.”
A few of the younger men chuckled under their breath.
Aidan’s gaze snapped to him, cold as steel. “Me concern is fer this clan,” he said, his tone low and edged. “And fer me vow tae keep those women safe while they remain here. I’ll nae fail in it.”
The laughter died instantly. Even Gordon’s smile faded, replaced by a look of respect tinged with apology.
“Aye,” he said quietly. “I ken ye willnae.”
