“Aye, Me Laird.”
Footsteps retreated down the corridor. Declan forced himself to step back, though every instinct screamed at him to bar the door and ignore whatever crisis demanded his attention.
“I have to go,” he said, his voice rough with frustration.
“I know.” Francesca’s hands were shaking as she tried to re-lace her gown. He brushed her fingers aside, doing it himself with careful precision even though his own hands weren’t entirely steady.
“This isnae finished,” he promised, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.
“I know,” she agreed, her smile tremulous but full of promise. “And I will be waiting.”
He kissed her once more, slow and deep, a vow sealed between them. Then he forced himself to leave before he changed his mind about the messenger, about duty, about everything except the woman watching him with love shining clear in her eyes.
As he descended the stairs to deal with whatever MacLeod wanted, one thought echoed through his mind: he would be counting every minute until he held her in his arms again.
23
“Leave me alone!”
Eloise’s scream tore through the night, jolting Declan awake. He was moving before his eyes fully opened, Francesca already scrambling out of bed beside him.
They ran down the corridor, their bare feet slapping against cold stone. Declan reached Eloise’s chamber first, throwing open the door to find the child sitting bolt upright in bed, tears streaming down her face. Bluebell pressed against her side while both kittens mewed anxiously from the foot of the bed.
“The bad lady had me, and she was hurting Mama, and I couldn’t stop her!” Eloise sobbed, her small body shaking. “I couldn’t stop her!”
“Shh, sweetheart, I’m here.” Francesca climbed onto the bed, gathering the child into her arms. “It was just a dream. Just a nightmare.”
“But it felt real!” Eloise clutched at her mother’s nightgown. “It felt so real!”
Declan sat on the other side of the bed, his hand coming to rest on Eloise’s back. “Aye, lass, nightmares do feel real. But they’re not. The bad lady is gone. She cannae hurt ye or yer mother ever again.”
“Promise?” Eloise’s voice broke on the word.
“I promise.” He stroked her hair, the gesture becoming more natural with each passing night. “And I’ll tell ye a secret. Even grown warriors have nightmares sometimes. I’ve had plenty meself.”
Eloise pulled back from Francesca’s embrace, her tear-stained face turning toward him. “Ye have?”
“Aye. After battles, after losin’ people I cared about.” He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “The mind plays tricks on us when we’re frightened, shows us things that aren’t real. But do ye ken what helps?”
“What?”
“Rememberin’ that ye’re safe. That ye’re loved. That ye have people around ye who will always protect ye.” He met Francesca’s eyes over Eloise’s head. “Like yer ma and me. We’re here, and we’re nae goin’ anywhere.”
“Can I sleep with ye both again?” Eloise’s voice trembled. “Please?”
“Of course.” Francesca stood, lifting the child into her arms. “Come on, darling. Let’s get you settled.”
Declan scooped up Bluebell and both kittens, following them back to his chamber. They settled into the large bed, Eloise burrowing between them, her breathing gradually slowing as they whispered soothing words.
“Tell me about when ye were little, Da,” Eloise murmured, her eyes already drooping. “Did ye have animals too?”
“Aye, I had a dog. A great beast named Finn who followed me everywhere.” Declan found himself smiling at the memory. “He used to sleep at the foot of me bed, just like Bluebell does for ye.”
“What happened to him?”
“He lived a long, happy life. Died of old age when I was still a bairn.” He stroked her hair gently. “But I remember him fondly. The way he’d greet me every mornin’, tail waggin’ so hard his whole body would shake.”
“I want Bluebell to live forever.”
