The men moved the way they always did when he used that tone. No softness, but no hesitation either. Two of them hauled Jack up and half-carried him toward the cabin, and another took off at a run toward the galley.
Logan watched till they disappeared below. The crew went back to their morning work on instinct, some still glancing toward the hatch as if expecting enemies to spill out instead of one half-dead guard.
Pete scratched at his beard. “Castle sending boats after ye now? That is new.”
“I will speak to him,” Logan said.
“When ye are done, ask him why he couldnae have sent a letter like a normal soul,” Pete muttered. “Would have saved us all from waking up thinking we were under attack.”
Logan left him to grumble and went below.
In the faint light of the lower deck, Jack sat wrapped in a blanket that looked too big for him, a steaming cup between his hands. His hair hung in wet clumps. Color had started to edge back into his cheeks, but his shoulders were still tense, like a man braced for a blow.
“I apologize,” Logan sighed. “We were attacked recently, so the caution is a bit intense.”
Jack nodded. “I see.”
Logan stood over him. “What are ye doing here anyway? I told David to write to me if anything happens, nae send a guard.”
“He didnae think the letter would get to ye on time, me Laird,” Jack said and tried to get to his feet. The motion almost upset the cup.
Logan jerked his chin. “Stay. Or else ye will fall on yer face.”
Jack swallowed. “He thought this way was faster.”
“Still,” Logan said. “He could have sent word through traders. Why ye?”
Jack’s fingers tightened on the cup as Logan eventually found a seat. “He said it couldnae wait on slow tongues. He said ye needed to hear it from someone who had seen it with his own eyes.”
Logan’s irritation spiked. “Hear what?”
Jack looked as if he would rather be back in the freezing boat than say the next words. “Ye need to return home, me Laird.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I apologize, but ye do. Before she?—”
Logan’s heart sank. “What has happened to Emma?”
“Nothing,” Jack responded quickly, almost in fear of his reaction.
His heartbeat steadied, but not enough to ease his concern.“So what happened?”
Jack hesitated. His gaze flicked up, then down again. “Her Ladyship, me Laird… she has turned the castle into a breeding pen.”
For a moment, there was only the creak of the hull and the distant thud of boots above.
“She has what?”
Jack flushed. “She started bringing animals in. Strays from the village and from the stables. She named them. She keeps them in the yard and the halls. Folks call it the farm now.”
Logan stared at him. “She turned me castle into a farm?!”
Jack took a quick swallow of broth, as if it might fortify him.“The first day, it was a calf and a cat. Then a goat. A chicken that never shuts up. She keeps them in pens near the stables. They wander near the hall. There are… gatherings.”
“Gatherings,” Logan repeated flatly.
“She plans to call them farm parties,” Jack blurted. “They eat and laugh, and sometimes the music finds its way in. It gets noisy, and a lot of people are…”
