But to witness his homecoming was something else entirely. These people did not simply respect him, they loved him.
The realization unsettled her more than she expected. Power she understood. Reputation she understood. But this kind of loyalty, this kind of ease between laird and people—it was not something she had often seen, and certainly not something she had expected to find here.
Her attention shifted as she became aware of eyes turning toward her.
Curiosity spread quickly, moving through the gathered crowd in quiet murmurs that were anything but subtle.
“Who is she?”
“Did he bring a noblewoman back from the mainland?”
“Is she hurt?”
“Is she his bride?”
The last question came from an elderly woman, with a severe knot of salt-and-pepper hair on top of her head, standing near the steps of the hall. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips as she studied Isabel with sharp, assessing interest. She appeared to have an air of authority about her, and for that reason, Isabel wanted to impress her, so she held her gaze, offered a smile.
“She’s too pretty to be a prisoner,” the woman declared, as though settling the matter.
Laughter rippled through the nearby crowd and heat crept into Isabel’s cheeks before she could stop it. That was decidedly not the reaction she’d been hoping for.
Lachlan flicked his gaze toward her at that, and when she looked in his direction, she caught the faintest hint of amusement at the corner of his mouth before he turned back to the men pressing him with questions.
A young lass of perhaps seven, missing two front teeth, broke free from the cluster of onlookers and ran forward, stopping just short of Isabel’s horse. She stared up with wide, unblinking eyes, more curious than anything else.
“Are ye a lady from the king’s court?” she asked, reaching out to touch Isabel’s skirt, bold in the way only children could be.
Isabel hesitated for half a heartbeat before answering, her voice softening. “I suppose I am.”
The girl grinned as though this confirmed something important, then darted back to her mother, clearly satisfied with the exchange.
The entire scene felt overwhelming in a way Isabel had not anticipated. With all the running they’d been doing, and the pure exhaustion of the ride, she’d hardly had time to think about what it would be like when they arrived. But even if she’d spent days ruminating on it, she wasn’t sure she would have imagined any of it the way it was unfolding now.
Eventually, Lachlan returned to her side.
“Forgive them,” he said quietly, his voice pitched low enough that only she could hear. “We dinna often receive visitors.”
“I take no offense at people’s curiosity,” she replied, though her gaze lingered on the MacLeod men, women and children still watching them.
He reached up to help her dismount, his hands settling briefly at her waist. The contact was steady, practical—but it was not without awareness. Not after the kiss they’d shared in the woods. Heat seared from his fingertips through the fabric, and it took everything in her not to wrap her arms around Lachlan and bring his warmth closer. To relive those moments of his lips on hers.
A ripple of want caressed over her skin, and she bit the inside of her cheek to try and pull herself out of the haze threatening to take over. The desire she felt was reflected in Lachlan’s gaze
Before she lingered more in his hold, before she pressed her mouth to his, Isabel pulled from his grasp and turned away.
The day passed quickly after that, though Isabel could not have said exactly how.
She was shown to a chamber overlooking the dark sea loch and the small craggy islands that dotted the waterways. The stone walls of her chamber softened by woven tapestries and a narrow window that framed the restless water below. It was more comfortable than she had expected, more lived-in than austere, with a large, cushioned chair, soft fur rug before the hearth, and a tranquil tapestry on the wall depicting a field of flowers. Still, she found it difficult to remain there for long. The energy of the place drew her toward the courtyard where life continued without pause.
She exited the castle, standing on the stone steps and observing, unsure where to go next.
“My lady,” Angus said, approaching her. “Are ye well?”
“Aye. Just… taking it in.”
Angus gazed out to the courtyard too. “We are a rowdy bunch.”
Isabel smiled. “Everyone seems to have a place here. To be well cared for.”
