“Does she know about the attack?” he asked.
“She knows we’re here. But she doesn’t know how many of us there are.”
Alex’s face turned grim, and he exchanged a glance with Bram. His brother said, “The MacPhersons will be here soon. We need to get our men into position.”
“Go, then,” Alex ordered. “I’ll join you in a moment.”
Bram obeyed, taking Brochain with him. Callum picked up his bow, but Alex motioned him back. “You’re staying with Laren. And, so help me God, you’d better not leave her.” His brother gave a nod, his fist curling around his weapon.
Before Laren could voice a protest, Alex cut off her words. “Trust me on this, Laren. Trust me to get Adaira back.”
In his eyes, she saw his frustration and worry. He drew close to her, his hand moving down to the swelling at her waist. “When I thought I’d lost you, you can’t know what that felt like. I worried that you were Harkirk’s prisoner, that he’d hurt you somehow.”
He lightly stroked the unborn bairn. “I won’t let that happen. Even if I die this day, at least I’ll die knowing that you’re safe. That this child will live.”
In his eyes, she could see the intrinsic need for her to remain out of harm’s way. “All right,” she acceded. “I’ll stay behind with Callum.”
He touched his forehead to hers. “Good. Go to the top of the hillside and wait behind the rocks. Hide yourself.”
She moved into his arms, holding him tightly. He stroked her hair back from her face, ordering, “No matter what happens to the rest of us, promise me you won’t interfere.”
“If your life is threatened—“
“It’s a risk I’m prepared to face. But not your life.” He lowered his mouth to hers. “Swear it.”
Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but she lowered her head in a silent promise.
AlexwaitedwithBramat his side. In the distance, he saw MacPherson men approaching, led by Nairna’s father, the chief. Hamish wore elaborate clothing trimmed with gold thread, along with jeweled rings upon his fingers. Alex walked toward him, and Hamish sent him a faint smile. He seemed extremely uncomfortable about the visit, and Alex suspected the man intended to offer bribes in return for their lives.
“Harkirk knows of your intentions,” Hamish said without prelude. “His men are positioned at every part of the fortress. If you ride in with us, you won’t come out alive.” Worry lined the older man’s face.
Alex met his gaze with his own resolution. “We have reinforcements ready. And if I can get Adaira out, that’s all that matters.”
Hamish nodded to one of his retainers, who dismounted and offered his horse to Alex. “So be it.” He glanced around and asked, “Is Bram with you? Nairna won’t be pleased with me if I get her husband killed.”
“This isn’t Bram’s fight.”
Hamish grunted. “It is, if you’re is involved. I know him too well for that.” The older man shifted his weight in the saddle, and Alex brought his horse alongside the chief. With a heavy sigh, Hamish admitted, “I don’t know if there is enough silver in Scotland to pacify Harkirk’s greed. Or to save your throat.” His expression grim, the chief asked, “Are you certain you’re wanting to do this?”
“I’m going to bring back my daughter, whatever the cost may be.” Alex nudged the horse forward, leaving Hamish with no choice but to follow. They rode up the path toward the gates and the archers tightened their bowstrings. If he didn’t have Hamish at his side, Alex didn’t doubt that the soldiers would have murdered him where he stood. They held their arrows in check, only because they honored the tentative truce between the MacPhersons and their own men.
When they reached the first wall, more soldiers stood. They closed the path behind them, cutting off any escape. Alex stared at the spears, wondering if he would feel the cold thrust of the metal tip within his ribs before his men attacked. Or would his death come with a blade to slit his throat? He let the morbid thoughts run through him, deadening any emotions he felt. He would accept his fate, as long as he saved Adaira.
Lord Harkirk awaited him at the top of the stairs that led into the tower. The man wore chainmail, his bearded face flushed with satisfaction. Beside him stood Lady Harkirk, and in her arms was Adaira.
“Da!” his daughter shrieked, stretching out her arms. She started crying and Alex felt his control slipping away. He saw her baby-fine red hair, tinted with gold. Her hands strained to reach him, and in his mind, he thought of David.
I won’t let you go, he swore silently to his daughter.I won’t let him hurt you.She was his flesh, born from his spirit just as much as Laren’s. One day she would grow into a beautiful woman like her mother. Even if he wasn’t there to see it.
“I understand you wanted my head, Harkirk,” Alex called out. “I’ve brought it to you. But first, you’re going to return my daughter into the care of Hamish MacPherson.”
“Am I?” The Baron walked slowly down the stairs, as if savoring the moment. “And what if I refuse?”
“You would harm an innocent child?” Hamish demanded. “Because of your bloodlust?”
“She carries MacKinloch blood in her. As far as I’m concerned, the fewer MacKinlochs, the better.”
Lady Harkirk looked alarmed when her husband reached for the child. She never took her eyes off Harkirk, and when he held Adaira above the stairs, he said, “Come here, if you want her.”
