“To get dressed. To let ye do the same.” He pulled the wet linen over his head, not bothering to wring it out first. “We’ll face the council together as we agreed. We’ll act like a betrothed couple. But I’ll nae argue about this again, lass.”
He walked away, but slowly. Keeping her in his sight even as he put distance between them. Making sure she made it safely back to her clothes among the trees. Making sure she was safe, protected, looked after.
Because that’s what he knew how to do.
Even if it wasn’t what she wanted.
Even if it would never be enough.
19
Leona had given up on sleep entirely.
After returning from the loch yesterday morning, after the disastrous conversation with Murdock that had ended with him walking away from her, she’d spent the rest of the day avoiding him.
It hadn’t been difficult. He’d made himself scarce, presumably dealing with clan business or perhaps avoiding her just as determinedly as she was avoiding him.
Now it was morning again, and she found herself pacing the breakfast hall like a caged animal. The long table was laden with food, fresh bread, honey, cold meats, cheese, and porridge steaming in its pot.
Her stomach should have been growling. Instead, it was twisted into knots too tight to contemplate eating.
Six days. That was all they had before Ragnall proved true to his word.
Six days to come up with a plan that would somehow convince both the council and her cousin that she was truly betrothed to Murdock. That she was under his protection and not worth starting a war over.
Six days to figure out how to save everyone she’d come to care about in this place.
The sound of footsteps made her turn. Rufus entered the hall, Nyx draped across his shoulders like a living scarf. The cat’s golden eyes tracked Leona’s movements with lazy interest.
“Ye’re goin' to wear a hole in the floor,” Rufus observed, making his way to the table.
He reached for a piece of bread, tore off a chunk, and popped it into his mouth.
“I’m thinkin',” Leona said.
“Ye’re panickin'.” He said it matter-of-factly, without judgment. “There’s a difference.”
Leona stopped pacing and glared at him. “I’m nae panickin'.”
“Ye’ve circled the table fourteen times. I counted.” Rufus settled into a chair, carefully adjusting Nyx so she remained comfortable. “And ye’ve nae eaten anythin' since yesterday’s noon meal. That’s panickin'.”
He was right, curse him.
Leona sighed and moved to sit across from him, though she didn’t reach for any food. “Six days, Rufus. We have six days to come up with somethin' that will work.”
“I think Skye’s plan might work.” A smirk tugged at his lips.
Despite everything, Leona felt her own mouth curve in response. “On the councilmen, maybe. But nae on our cousin.”
Rufus’s expression sobered at the mention of Ragnall. “What do ye think he’ll do? Really?”
“I daenae ken.” Leona traced a pattern on the wooden table with her finger. “He’s unpredictable. Sometimes he’s calculating, cold. Other times…” she trailed off, remembering the violence in his eyes the last time she’d refused him. “Other times he’s just angry.”
“Then we’ll be ready for him.” Rufus’s voice held a determination that made him sound older than his years. “Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”
Leona looked at her brother, at the fierce protectiveness on his young face, and felt her throat tighten. “I’ll do anything to protect ye, ye ken that, aye? Anything.”
“I ken it.” Rufus reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “But ye daenae have to. I’m the head of our family now, even if I’m young.Ishould be protecting ye.”
