“Ye will make a strong chieftain’s wife,” he said then, his voice lowering.
A faint blush rose to her cheeks. “I will stand by ye, always,” she replied. “Although ye will have to teach me a few things. I have no idea how to navigate my way in yer world.”
He smiled once more, his fingers lacing through hers upon his chest and squeezing tightly. “Just be yerself, my love,” he replied. “And all will be well.”
30: WORTH THE PRICE
THE SEA EAGLE’S cry split the air above them—wild and piercing—and Hazel tipped her head back to watch it.
The bird soared high overhead, its vast wings spread wide against the morning sky. It wheeled lazily on an updraft, white tail feathers flashing in the sunlight, and for a heartbeat, she felt suspended with it, caught between earth and heaven.
“What must it be like?” she whispered. “To watch the world from above?”
“Aye … how insignificant all our troubles must seem.”
Craeg’s arm tightened around her waist, steadying her as Ruadh picked his way along the track that took them south, toward Moy. Faolan loped next to them, fur ruffling in the breeze.They’d left Craignure with the dawn, and as they rode off, she’d glanced over her shoulder at where the ferry drew away from the pier, beginning its journey back to the mainland. She’d wondered, for an instant, whether she’d made the right choice. But that was life. She was following her heart now, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid of what loomed on the horizon.
Trying to ignore her worries, she leaned back into his warmth, watching the eagle ride the wind with effortless grace. She wished she had its detachment.
Her belly fluttered then. Viewing a sea eagle was always significant. It symbolized wisdom. Some tales said that it could pass between this world and the next. Fishermen loved them, for the sight of a sea eagle promised a good catch. The bird was a harbinger of change.
“It’s a good omen,” Craeg said then, echoing her own thoughts. “One eagle sitting alone warns of an enemy’s approach … but this one soaring above us gives us its blessing.”
Something relaxed deep in Hazel’s chest. He sounded so sure, and she wanted to believe him. “The Macleans of Moy are in the midst of upheaval,” he added. “But we shall weather the storm.”
The eagle gave another cry, fierce and joyous, before banking east, and Hazel found herself smiling. Her nerves settled. “We will.”
They crested yet another grassy hill then, and she caught sight of a green tangle of woodland ahead. Her pulse quickened, her mood shadowing as memories of her flight from the Macquaries the day before, and her father’s murderous rage, intruded.
“I left my basket by a burn in the woods,” she admitted then. “Would ye mind if we lengthened our journey to retrieve it?”
“Of course not.”
Relief swept over her. It had taken her a long while to collect the many herbs that her basket contained, and it also held her precious pestle and mortar.
A short while later, Craeg turned off the track and headed into the hazel thicket, following a deer path into the trees. “There’s only one burn that cuts through these parts,” he said then. “We’ll follow its course south.”
“Thank ye.”
His hand slid over hers then, his fingers interlacing. “Ye are still on edge, aren’t ye?”
She gave a brittle laugh. “Aye.”
“What did my mother say to ye?”
Hazel jolted. For a moment, she thought about denying that Lady Liza had anything to do with her decision to go. She didn’t want to get her into trouble or to create a rift between mother and son. However, after the raw honesty they’d shared over the past day, she couldn’t bring herself to lie.
“We just talked … and she pointed out a few things.”
“Such as?”
“That I let this thing between us … the excitement of it all … go to my head. I’m old enough to know better. Ye are new to yer role and have responsibilities to yer clan. That ye were acting recklessly, and I was just going along with it.”
“Mmm.” He didn’t sound impressed.
Hazel’s pulse quickened. “Ye won’t be too harsh with her, will ye?”
His body tensed against hers. “She shouldn’t have interfered.”
