“Aye,” Declan said, motioning for him to sit. “Tell me what ye found.”
Killian sank into the chair opposite him, resting his hands on his knees. “We found signs of settlement near the western ridges—bandits, just as ye feared. A few huts, makeshift fires, and thievin’ tools. They were gatherin’ there, hopin’ to make it permanent.”
Declan’s brow furrowed. “And ye dealt with them?”
“Aye. We ran them off with steel and fire. Those that didnae flee are buried in the earth.”
Declan nodded, his expression hard. “Good work. But I dinnae like how bold they’ve become to try and settle on McCallum land. They’re growin’ desperate, or they’re bein’ led by someone smarter than most.”
Killian leaned forward slightly, his tone thoughtful. “Aye, I was thinkin’ the same, me Laird . I reckon we’re dealin’ with more than just wanderin’ thieves.”
Declan stood and moved to the large table near the window where maps of the region were spread across the surface. He gestured for Killian to follow as he traced a finger over the parchment.
“They were here,” he said, pointing to a mark west of the loch. “That leaves the eastern lands unchecked. The woodlands near the ridge are wild and deep. If I were hidin’ from a Laird’s patrol, that’s where I’d go.”
Killian nodded, his brow furrowed. “Aye, it’s rough country out there. Few paths and plenty of places to set traps. Ye think that’s where they’re gatherin’ next?”
Declan narrowed his eyes at the map, his thoughts heavy and precise. “Could be. If they’re organized, they’ll need cover and access to the trade routes. That ridge overlooks the road to Dunross. They could rob the merchants that pass through there.”
Killian exhaled. “Then we’ll need to send scouts east. I’ll take a few men and…”
Declan shook his head sharply. “Aye, soon but nae this moment.”
Declan poured a measure of amber whisky into a heavy glass, setting it before Killian with a grunt.
“Ye did good on that mission,” he said, his tone rough but approving. “No one can fault the McCallum name for lack of action while ye’re at me side.”
Killian inclined his head, accepting the praise with the barest hint of a smile.
“Aye, me Laird ,” Killian replied, taking the glass. “And word spreads faster than a Highland fire. I’ve heard whispers across the lands that ye’ve returned with a bride most unexpected.”
Declan grunted, the corner of his mouth twitching. “They wanted a vapid girl, full of ribbons and airs,” he muttered. “I chose better. Isabelle Cain is no empty-headed maiden.”
Killian chuckled, shaking his head at the Laird’s sharp tone.
“So, how fares this new lady of yers?” Killian asked, leaning back against the table. “Is she… manageable?”
Declan’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “Insufferable,” he said shortly. “She speaks of Yule celebrations, demanding merriment when there’s work to be done.”
Killian smirked, taking a slow sip of his whisky. “Aye,” he said, “that sounds exactly like what ye need, me Laird . Someone to challenge ye, stir the fire within. Perhaps it’s time to bring Yule back to Castle McCallum, eh? A bit of joy might do us all good.”
Declan’s glare cut across the room, sharp as a blade.
Killian’s smirk faltered, and he lifted his hands slightly in retreat. “Aye, aye, I see,” Killian muttered, choosing his words carefully.
Declan waved a hand, dismissing the notion for now. “Go eat something, Killian. Get yerself rested.”
Killian inclined his head obediently, draining the whisky before rising. “Aye, me Laird ,” he said, moving toward the door, his loyalty unwavering despite the Laird’s sharp temper.
Declan watched him leave, the quiet of the study settling back in. He set his own glass aside, thinking of Isabelle and the fire she brought to the castle, and he knew, begrudgingly, that life with her would never be dull.
Declan left his study, the weight of maps and reports still lingering in his mind, yet it was soon forgotten as he passed a window and caught sight of Isabelle outside.
The sunlight glinted off the loch beyond the castle walls, casting a golden shimmer over her and the three girls, Penelope, Hallie,and Beth, as they laughed and chased one another through the dew-specked grass.
His chest tightened, a warmth spreading through him that was unfamiliar yet welcome, seeing how naturally she moved among the children. Every shout of laughter, every playful tumble in the mud, told him she was patient, kind, and already a mother in spirit, ready to care for the triplets as if they were her own.
Declan lingered, watching her gather a small bundle of stones the girls had found, her eyes soft and joyful, bending to each child in turn with gentle words.
