“Always. We dinna know how no’ to be.” Ian’s composure fell for a split second, emotion clouding his eyes. “My love. Mo chridhe.”
Rhiannon wrapped her arms around him, her head pressed to his heart. “Come back to me.”
“Soon.” He kissed her softly, then more deeply, a promise to return.
“I love you so much,” she said.
“I love ye, too, my darling lass. And I promise, the time I’m away will fly, and when I’m home again, I will no’ leave your side until I’m forced.”
She smiled. “That sounds perfect to me.”
Ian looked pained for a moment as he held her. “If I were a god, I’d send a bolt of lightning to vanquish our enemies so that I didna have to leave ye.”
“I believe you would. And I’m glad you’re as loyal as you are. Your brother is very lucky to have you. And so am I.” She personally knew what it was like to have a sibling who wasn’t honorable, who would betray her at the first chance he got.
“Your brother is lucky to have ye too, lass. I’d have killed him.” He chuckled.
Rhiannon giggled and gave him a playful punch in the ribs. “Go on now, before I don’t let you leave.”
Ian tugged her into his arms one last time, giving her a mind-blowing kiss.
“To remember me by.”
“To look forward to what happens next,” she added.
“Aye, love.” And then he was walking away, joining his warriors on the ship. He stopped, turned once more. “I love ye.”
“I love you, too.” It was an effort not to run forward, to grab hold of him. And when they set sail, she dashed to the edge of the water, and would have tossed herself in to swim after him if it hadn’t been for Mac who took hold of her elbow.
“He’ll be back, my lady. Dinna fash.”
She had to trust that, even if her heart was screaming no.
The ship became a speck on the horizon, barely noticeable, but what remained was the thick black smoke and her fear.
“It willna be long, my lady,” Mac said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze of comfort. “Together, the Sinclairs are liable to mow down the enemy within a quarter-hour. Might even be home in time for a midnight dram.”
“I will wish for that every second he’s away.”
“Your husband is famous in Scotland,” Mac said. “A legend among men. Ye’ve nothing to fear.”
Rhiannon nodded, her shoulders sagging and she leaned against the older seneschal. The only thing that would distract her was planning the celebration for when her husband returned. For there was no question of if, only when.
When they arrived at the shores of his brother’s land, Ian still didn’t have a clear view of the enemy, but worried they would have seen him coming. They dropped anchor, rowed out to the shore, with arms that were swift.
They leapt from their rowboats and ran stealthily toward the castle, all the while his senses keen for any sign of the enemy. In the distance, he could hear the loud crack of thunder, but the sky was blue. It wasn’t weather that made that sound, but a massive boulder as it flung from a trebuchet and smacked against the stones of Buanaiche Castle.
Battle-rush coursed through his veins, and his palms itched against the hilt of his sword with the need to run their enemies through. They were only just over a rise from the beach when he took in the army at his brother’s gates.
He let out a battle cry that shook the earth, and ran toward the enemy at full force.
With his men beside him, they leaped into fighting the enemy from behind while his brother’s army assaulted from the front.
“Get to that trebuchet,” Ian shouted to his second, who nodded and hacked his way through the throng.
They were English, there was no doubt by their clothes, their thick chainmail armor, and the insults made more insulting by their accents.
A dozen Sassenachs surged forward, egged on by a man on horseback—the man who had tried to steal Ian’s bride. He couldn’t recall the name, or if he’d ever been given one, but Arsehole seemed to fit him well.
