Page 70 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Iona woke to the steady rhythm of Ruaridh's breathing beneath her ear, her head pillowed on his chest where she could feel the strong beat of his heart. The chamber was still dim with pre-dawn light, but she'd been awake for some time, her mind turning over thoughts that wouldn't let her rest.

She traced lazy patterns on his chest, feeling the raised lines of old scars beneath her fingertips. Each mark told a story of battles fought and survived, reminders of the strength that had saved her life more than once.

"Ye're awake," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. "Have ye been up long?"

"A while." The weight of what she needed to say pressed down on her chest. "I've been thinking."

"About what?"

She gathered her courage, knowing this conversation would be difficult but necessary. The words had been building inside her for days, growing heavier with each passing hour of confinement.

"I cannae spend the rest of me life trapped in this castle, Ruaridh."

She felt him tense beneath her, his breathing changing rhythm. He'd been so protective since the garden attack, watching over her with the intensity of a man guarding his most precious treasure. But the walls that kept danger out also kept life at bay.

"Iona—"

"I ken it's me fault," she continued quickly, before he could argue. "I ken there are enemies all around because of the secrets I carry, because of what I took from Murray. But I cannae live like this forever, always looking over me shoulder, always waiting fer the next attack."

His arms tightened around her, and she could feel the conflict in his body—the desire to protect her warring with understanding of what his protection was costing them both.

"It's nae yer fault, lass. None of this is yer fault."

"Isn't it? If I hadnae stolen that letter, if I hadnae discovered Murray's schemes⁠—"

"Then he would have continued his blackmail and treachery unchecked," Ruaridh interrupted firmly. "Ye did what was right, even knowing the cost. That takes courage, nae blame."

His words were meant to comfort, but they couldn't change their reality. "But that doesn't change our situation. Murray will never stop, will he? Not as long as I'm alive to threaten his secrets."

The silence that followed was answer enough. She felt him wrestling with the truth they both knew but hadn't spoken aloud.

"Nay," he admitted reluctantly. "He willnae."

"Then what dae we dae? How dae we end this without me spending the rest of me life as a prisoner in me own home?"

She could practically feel him thinking, his mind working through possibilities she'd been considering for days. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a new resolve.

"Perhaps we stop fighting defensively and take the battle tae him."

"What dae ye mean?"

"I mean perhaps it's time to write tae the king. Tae present him with that letter ye took and expose Murray's treachery officially. Gain the crown's protection and authority tae end this threat permanently."

Hope fluttered in her chest, followed immediately by fear. "Ye think the king would listen? Would act on our word against Murray's?"

"The letter ye took—daes it contain proof of treason? Evidence that would be difficult to dismiss or explain away?"

She thought of the damning correspondence hidden in their chamber, the careful records of Murray's dealings that could destroy him completely. "Aye. Communications with English contacts, agreements to provide information about Highland defenses in exchange for gold." She paused, voicing the fear that had kept her awake. "But Ruaridh, if we dae this, if we expose him publicly..."

"He'll have nothing left tae lose," Ruaridh finished grimly. "Aye, I ken. He'll likely come at us with everything he has left. But at least then we'd be fighting with the king's authority behind us instead of trying tae defend against an enemy in the shadows."

The logic was sound, but the risk was enormous. "Dae ye think it would work?" she asked quietly. "Dae ye truly think the king would move against him?"

She watched his face carefully, reading the uncertainty he was trying to hide. When he spoke, she was grateful for his honesty rather than false reassurance.

"I'm nae sure," he admitted. "The king has larger concerns than Highland feuds, and Murray has been careful tae maintain his public facade. But with solid evidence of treason..." He shrugged. "It's worth trying. What's the alternative? Living under siege fer the rest of our lives?"