Page 54 of The Highlander’s Iron Hold

Colin's mind was already working through the logistics. "We'll need tae coordinate both. Send word tae the messenger that we need the carriage tae approach from the north road - it's the furthest from where Fraser's men have been spotted. We'll escort the villagers out in groups, using the dowry delivery as cover."

Colin frowned, considering whether the strategy would be successful. "How many men can we spare fer escort duty without leaving the castle defenseless?"

"Maybe twenty, if we choose carefully."

"Make it fifteen," Colin corrected grimly. "We need enough men here tae defend the castle if Fraser strikes while we're evacuatin’. Half of our best fighters will escort the villagers, while the other half will remain at the castle."

He paused, his mind working through the dangerous mathematics of protection. "If we dae this right, we can keep the villagers and the castle safe without losin’ too many people."

Colin was already opening the door to the chamber, his mind racing with logistics. "And Niven? Send word tae our allies. If Fraser wants a fight, we'll give him one - but nae with civilians in the crossfire."

Colin slipped back into the chamber and moved quietly to pull on his shirt and trews with practiced efficiency, before reaching for his sword belt, buckling it with hands that moved automatically through the familiar routine.

It was only as he was reaching for his boots that he found himself pausing, his gaze drawn to the bed where Morag still slept, her face peaceful in the candlelight. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the sight before him.

She lay on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, her golden hair spilled across the pillow like silk catching firelight. Her lips were slightly parted, soft and inviting, and the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin linen of her nightgown made his pulse quicken despite the urgency of the situation.

Even in sleep, there was something captivating about her—the delicate curve of her jaw, the long sweep of her lashes against her cheeks, the way the candlelight played across her skin and made her look almost ethereal.

How did I become so lucky? How did this beautiful, fierce woman become mine?

His chest tightened with an emotion he was only beginning to recognize.

For a very brief moment, time seemed suspended. The weight of Fraser's threats, the logistics of evacuation, the complex web of politics surrounding their marriage—all of it faded away as he simply watched his wife sleep. She looked so young, so peaceful, and he was reluctant to wake her.

He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, trying not to disturb the mattress too much, and reached out to gently brush a silky strand of hair from her face. It slipped through his fingers like water, and he found himself tracing the line of her cheek with his thumb, marveling at the softness of her skin.

"Morag," he murmured softly, continuing to stroke her hair back from her face. "Wake up, me love."

Her eyes fluttered open, immediately focusing on his face with the clarity of someone accustomed to being alert quickly. Even freshly awakened, with her hair tousled and her eyes still soft with sleep, she was breathtaking.

"Colin?" She took in his fully dressed state, the weapons at his side, the tension in his shoulders. "What's wrong? Why are ye dressed so early?"

"Fraser's men have been spotted closer tae the castle," he said, his hand stroking her hair as she sat up. "We need tae evacuate the remainin’ villagers before they're caught in whatever he's planning."

Morag immediately sat up, her face turning pale. But her voice remained steady when she spoke. "What can I dae tae help?"

"Stay safe," Colin said immediately, then caught the flash of fire in her eyes. "I mean it, Morag. I need tae focus on makin’ sure our people are safe, and I cannae dae that if I'm worrying about ye."

"I'm nae some helpless flower," she said, pushing herself up to face him properly. "These people trust me. They'll move faster and with less panic if I'm there tae help organize them."

Colin hesitated. Even with sleep-mussed hair and wearing only her nightgown, there was a fierce determination in her expression that reminded him of her fierce Highland nature that he was growing to admire more each day.

"Ye're right," he said quietly, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. "But promise me ye'll stay close tae the guards I assign ye. Promise me ye willnae take any unnecessary risks."

"I promise," she said, leaning into his touch. "But Colin... what aren't ye telling me? There's something else, isn't there?"

For a moment, he considered telling her about the dowry delivery, about the complex timing that made today so crucial. But looking into her trusting eyes, he couldn't bring himself to taint this moment with talk of gold and political arrangements.

"Just that I need ye safe," he said instead, pressing his forehead against hers. "Whatever happens today, I need tae ken ye're safe."

"Then we'd better get started," Morag said, already moving to get dressed. "How long dae we have?"

"Nae long enough," Colin replied grimly, watching as she moved with quick efficiency to prepare for the day ahead. "Nae nearly long enough."

Within the hour, the great hall buzzed with controlled activity. Colin stood at the center, a map spread before him on the long oak table, his finger tracing evacuation routes while his captains gathered around.

"Hamish, I'll ride out with ye, but ye take charge of the company. Maintain the strategy I told ye when ye escort the villagers back tae their homes," Colin commanded, his voice carrying across the hall with quiet authority. "Divide the men intae four units and let each unit watch the villagers from every possible angle. When they are safely in the village, I want ye tae repair any critical damage before ye leave them—roofs, doors, anything that would leave them vulnerable. Make sure ye dae this efficiently, position the strongest among them tae take turns watchin' fer invaders and return back here."