Page 79 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

“I can walk,” she insisted.

He slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back. “Ye are finished walkin’ today.”

Ceana wrapped an arm around his neck. His heart pounded hard beneath her cheek, and each breath left him unevenly as he carried her through the lower side door. Heather stayed beside them.

David met them in the crowded inner courtyard with dried blood at his temple. When he saw Ceana in Oscar’s arms, he crossed the remaining distance and laid one hand on her cheek.

“Me wee lass.”

“Faither.” She closed her fingers around his wrist. “Ye are alive.”

“And Morrag still stands.” David looked at Oscar. “The inner defense can hold.”

“Lennan will leave men and supplies,” Oscar said. “We cannae lower our guard just because Bryce is dead. Ye never ken.”

David lowered his head. “Ye have me thanks, MacKane.”

“Put me men where the wounded need them.”

Heather led them into a small guardroom off the courtyard. Oscar set Ceana on a bench and remained close while her mother loosened her cloak. Paisley’s embroidered ribbon rested beside the bruises rising on her upper arm.

Heather pressed careful fingers along Ceana’s ribs, then examined her scraped palm. “The blade didnae pierce ye, but ye are badly bruised. Let me clean it for ye.”

“The linen and water belong outside,” Ceana said. “Men are bleedin’.”

“Ye can travel if ye remain supported and rest,” Heather added, her gaze moving to Oscar. “Keep pressure from her ribs.”

Oscar’s hand closed around Ceana’s uninjured forearm.

She looked up at him. “I want ye to take me home.”

He frowned, his gaze flicking to the walls.

“To MacKane,” she clarified. “Please.”

His fingers tightened once, but his gaze stayed on hers. “Alright, wife. I’ll take ye home.”

Outside, the guards bound the surrendered Gilmore men while supplies were passed around. David remained in the courtyard, directing his men, with Heather beside him.

A groom took the reins of Ceana’s mare while Oscar wrapped his cloak around her. He then lifted her into his saddle and mounted at her back, his grip firm. His arm settled around her waist, high enough to spare her ribs, and gently drew her against his chest.

Low smoke still rose from the castle as they cantered onto the western road. The men carried wounded fighters through the gate behind them, and others cleared the ruined lane.

Ceana watched her parents standing together on the other end of the castle gate until the distance blurred their faces. Once the castle began to shrink behind the ridge, she tucked her head beneath Oscar’s chin and felt his hold tighten around her.

Her eyes closed before the castle disappeared.

CHAPTER 20

The horse stepped into a small hollow, and Ceana slipped lower against Oscar’s chest.

His arm tightened around her before her weight could pull her sideways. He drew her upright, keeping his forearm above her bruised ribs, then settled her head beneath his chin again, his cloak covering her from shoulders to boots. One corner had come loose near her wrist, so he tucked it beneath her arm and moved the reins away from the bruises Bryce had left.

He lowered his face until her breath warmed the underside of his jaw. It came rather evenly, which gave him one less thing to worry about. He found the pulse in her wrist and counted several beats before pressing the back of his fingers to her cheek. Her skin was cold.

He sighed and pulled the cloak closer.

The blood had dried stiff across his sleeve and collar. A smaller patch came from the cut near his hairline, but the rest belonged to men he had dispatched.