“Well,” Henry said cheerfully, wiping blood from his blade, “that was energizin’.”
A slight tension in Henry’s shoulders betrayed his awareness of the Laird’s mood though his voice remained light. Elijah dismounted, without giving him a response, and moved to the carriage, yanking the door open. “Are ye hurt?”
Iris looked up at him with wide eyes, her face pale but composed. “Nay, I’m fine.” She glanced past him at the bodies scattered across the road. “Are they all dead?”
“Aye.”
“Good.”
The simple word, delivered with quiet satisfaction, made something warm unfold in Elijah’s chest. She wasn’t screaming or fainting or demanding they turn back. She was glad he’d killed the men who’d threatened them.
Christ, she really is perfect.
“Are ye certain ye’re nae hurt?” He reached out without thinking, cupping her cheek in his palm. “Ye’re shakin’.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted, but she didn’t pull away from his touch. “I just... I’ve never seen men die before.”
“And now, ye have; how do ye feel about it?”
She was quiet for a long moment, considering. “Safer,” she said finally. “I feel safer.”
The admission struck right to his guts. She felt safe with him, safe enough to speak the truth, even when that truth revealed her own vulnerability.
“Good,” he said roughly. “That’s... good.”
“Elijah?” Her voice was small, uncertain. “When ye said any man who attacked us would be dead before he drew his sword...”
“Aye?”
“Ye werenae exaggeratin’, were ye?”
He looked at this brave, beautiful woman who’d married him under duress and was now looking at him like he was her salvation instead of her captor.
“Nay, lass,” he said quietly. “I wasnae exaggeratin’.”
For a moment, they just stared at each other then Iris nodded once, sharp and decisive.
“Then I suppose I chose the right man to marry.”
The words hit him harder than any blade ever had because in that moment, sitting in a carriage surrounded by dead men, his new wife had just told him she was glad to be his, and God help him, that mattered more than he was ready to admit.
“We should go,” Henry called from outside. “More of them might be about.”
“Aye.” Elijah stepped back, breaking the spell between them, but as he closed the carriage door and remounted his horse, he found himself looking forward to the rest of their journey.
His wife felt safe with him. For now, that was enough. Every other thing would be decided once they got to the castle and to Codie.
CHAPTER SIX
“Sweet Maither of God.”
Iris pressed her face to the carriage window, her breath fogging the glass as Castle McMurphy came into view. She’d expected a fortress, something brutal and intimidating like its laird. Instead, she found herself staring at something that belonged in a fairy tale.
The castle rose from an island in the middle of a rushing river, its gray stone towers reaching toward the clouded sky like fingers grasping for heaven. Ancient bridges connected it to the mainland, arching gracefully over the swirling water that served as both moat and guardian. Mist clung to the castle, making the whole structure seem to float between earth and sky.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered to herself.
How can somethin’ so stunning belong to someone as cold as ye?
