Arran looked at his second-in-command, thinking that Alistair would be proud of his replacement.
“We will use the trees tae our advantage,” he told them, settling back in his chair.
“We?” his brother asked, surprised. “Are ye planning tae go again, Arran?”
Arran cleared his throat. It was not something he had discussed with anyone, and while most would expect him to stay behind this time, he couldn’t. There was not only the need to avenge the deaths of his warriors, but Arran wanted to be the one to cut off the head of his enemy. He wanted to look McDougal in the eye and know that his life was draining out of the Scot. Ainslee may have escaped death at the hand of her brother, but her brother would not suffer the same fate.
He would have to die in order for them to have a future, and while taking another’s life weighed heavily on Arran’s shoulders, it was what must be done.
“Aye, I will lead our warriors into battle.”
The council erupted in a furious chorus of dissension, but Arran stood, bracing his hands on the table. His uncle used to tell him there was a time for his emotions to rule and there was a time for him to do what needed to be done to save his clan. This time, Arran was choosing both.
“’Tis mah right!” he boomed over the crowd, causing them to quiet. “I suffered at the hands of mah enemy. I was willing tae die for this clan. I watched as my brethren perished at the end of his blade. I wilnae sit in this keep and have the same fate.”
With that, he walked out of the keep, drawing in lungfuls of air as he did so. His da would do the same. His da would be the one charging into the fray, his sword held high and a measure of pride in his body as he cut down those that tried to harm his family.
Now Arran had a family. He had his ma, his brothers, his uncle.
Ainslee.
The mere thought of his wife caused his chest to clench tightly. After what she had shared last night, he could not stand by and watch her brother attempt to not only take over his keep but also reveal his sister in the process. Ainslee was his to protect now, his to keep safe, and she deserved to know that her husband would do all of those things.
Besides, he wished to have a life with her. He wished to watch her stomach swell with their bairns—his heirs—and bring joy into her life unlike any she had ever known. He wanted her to experience the life she should have led and not the one that was marred by violence or loss.
He, too, wanted that life and would do everything he could to see it come to fruition.
Arran strode to the hill where his warriors were buried, the wind pulling at his tunic as if to turn him around. Once he was there, he knelt by the grave of Alistair, the man who had protected him to the very end.
“I will avenge ye,” he told his old friend, fervor in his voice. “I will make certain that our enemy doesnae walk another day in the sun.” The wind whipped higher, and Arran gave a rueful smile. Even the gods were telling him to be cautious.
He would. McDougal was not going to see the same man in battle this time. He was going to see someone who had a clear mind and would anticipate his movements before McDougal could himself.
And at the end of it all, he would be the one that stood over his enemy, victorious.
14
“And this is where we keep our stores. If the keep were to go up in flames, at least we would not starve to death.”
Ainslee clasped her hands behind her back as she followed Morea out of the building back toward the keep, wondering if she would ever learn her path. When Arran’s mother had shown at their chamber this morning, Arran had just given Ainslee a searing kiss that had her blushing and walked out, whistling as he did so.
The proof had been on the bedsheets of what they had done last night, but Ainslee could scarcely believe it. She had given herself to her husband. Now she and Arran were bound for the rest of their days, and as the lady of the keep, she would be expected to give him heirs as well.
The mere thought of carrying Arran’s bairn, his heir, filled her with happiness. Though she knew it was early in their union, Ainslee was starting to believe she could fall in love with him, if not already. After all, she had wasted no time telling him everything that she had not told another. He knew about her near death; he knew that she had wished to keep herself hidden from her brother.
He knew her true identity.
It was frightening for her to admit that her life was in her husband’s hands, but strangely, she trusted Arran would always do right by her.
If only they did not have the threat of her brother’s war hanging over their heads!
“Ainslee?”
Ainslee shook out of her thoughts, smiling at Morea. “I was woolgathering.”
Morea smiled. “As I did the first day after I wed mah beloved.”
Ainslee heard the affection in her voice. “Was yers a love match?”
