They walked in silence once Flora and the minister disappeared down the ridge.
The wind pushed at the gorse-covered clearing. The stone underfoot was slick and old. Fiona kept her eyes on the path ahead, every step measured—as if the wrong one might send her sliding into something she couldn’t undo.
Harris finally broke the quiet.
“This was the Prince’s will,” he said.
She stopped.
Turned.
“I ken that,” she said sharply. “Dinnae soften it for me now.”
He did stop then, fully, facing her.
“I married you because he ordered it,” Harris said. “Because the ruse keeps the gold hidden. Because a married man draws less notice than a lone one. Because he told us to live.”
Her chest tightened.
Good.
Say it plainly.
“And?” she asked. “Is that all?”
His jaw flexed.
“No,” he said quietly. “That’s what frightens me.”
She felt it then, the shift.
His voice was low and controlled. “More than I should. More than is wise. And if I let that go any further, if I let it become…love,then I’ve tied your fate to a man marked for death.”
Her breath came shallow. “I didnae ask for that.”
“No,” he said. “And that’s why I tried to keep you at arm’s length.”
Her laugh broke sharply. “You’re terrible at it.”
“I ken.”
She stepped away from him then.
Not in anger, but because the ground beneath her suddenly felt unsteady, and Fiona Cameron had never trusted herself on uncertain footing.
For a heartbeat, she couldn’t breathe.
The wind tugged at her skirts, the embroidered thistles brushing her calves like a reminder she hadn’t asked for. The stone spire loomed behind them, ancient and indifferent, watching generations make promises they couldn’t possibly keep.
“Do you have any idea what this means?” she demanded. The words came fast now, sharp with truth she hadn’t meant to let loose. “Being your wife—not in name, but in truth?”
She shook her head once, hard. “Redcoats won’t see a Cameron anymore. They’ll see you. I’ll be leverage. Collateral.”
Her hand pressed to her chest, fingers curling in the fine wool Flora had insisted upon. “I’ve lived with danger. I’ve faced redcoats and thought myself clever enough to survive them.”
Her voice faltered. Just a breath.
“But this—” She swallowed voice thick. “This is forever.”
