“And what dae ye think this is?” she asked softly.
“A partnership,” he explained. “One that will already invite enough danger. A marriage without expectation will be easier fer us both.”
She searched his face, trying to read what lay beneath the careful words. There was no coldness there, and no indifference. If anything, there was restraint held too tightly.
“I see,” she said, though she was not certain she did.
He lifted his hand then, slow enough that she could have stepped back if she wished. She did not. His fingers brushed her cheek, warm and calloused. It sent a quiet shiver through her, in an awareness sharp enough to steal her breath.
“Rest,” he urged tenderly. “Ye’ve earned it. We will discuss this another time.”
Before she could answer, he let his hand fall and stepped back. The distance reasserted itself with practiced ease. He inclined his head once, then turned and disappeared through the door beside hers.
Margaret stood there a moment longer, with her heart unsettled in a way she could not yet name. Then, slowly, she turned, slipped into her chamber, and closed the door behind her with a care that felt almost reverent.
CHAPTER TEN
Morning broke cold and clear over Inveraray, with Domhnall standing along the upper battlements. His hands were resting on the stone, while his eyes were busy tracking the slow stir of the courtyard below. Men moved in deliberate patterns changing watches, checking tack and greeting one another with brief nods.
Order held… for now.
At that moment, footsteps approached behind him, familiar in their weight and rhythm.
Cameron joined him without ceremony, resting his forearms on the wall beside him. “The house is awake,” he mentioned instead of a morning greeting. “Word’s spread farther than we’d like.”
“It always daes,” Domhnall replied.
They stood in silence for a moment, the loch below them dark and still, and the hills beyond half-lost in mist.
“The Masquerade will be talked about for months,” Cameron pointed out. “But MacGregor willnae waste time on talk.”
Domhnall’s jaw tightened. “Nay. He’ll look fer redress.”
“Aye. And nae the sort the Crown can scold away.” Cameron glanced down into the courtyard. “Men remember what he did last time.”
So did Domhnall.
“He willnae challenge the marriage openly,” Cameron continued. “Nae with the Crown’s seal on it. But he’ll test the edges. The roads, messengers, allies who think themselves unobserved.”
“And the household,” Domhnall said quietly.
Cameron did not deny it. “Especially now.”
Domhnall’s gaze moved to the stone beneath his hands. “Double the night watch. Rotate the inner guard more often. I want nay patterns that can be learned.”
“It’s already begun,” Cameron said. “And the lairds?”
“They’ll come,” Domhnall replied. “MacKenzie, Gordon, MacLean. Their presence will slow him.”
“But nae stop him.”
“Nay.”
Cameron’s gaze lingered on the courtyard below, then lifted toward the inner keep. “That leaves us with the obvious truth,” he mused. “Lady Margaret is now the most vulnerable target within these walls.”
Domhnall did not argue. He had already reached the same conclusion and resented it.
“Aye,” he said. “She is.”
