Page 74 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

"Aye. Taeday." He paused in his collection of potentially deadly presents. "Gordon's right, ye ken. About what ye've done fer me."

"What have I done?"

"Made me remember that some things are worth more than survival. Worth fighting fer instead of just enduring." He met her eyes. "Made me remember that I want tae live, nae just exist."

She stepped closer, her hand finding his. "Then let's make sure we both get that chance."

He turned from the fire to find her glancing toward the window with longing. "I've been thinking about what ye said yesterday. About nae being able tae live trapped in these walls."

"Aye." She didn't deny it, and he was grateful for her honesty. "I ken ye're trying tae protect me, but⁠—"

"But ye need tae feel free, even if it's just fer a few hours." He moved to stand beside her at the window, following her gaze to the forest beyond the castle walls. "I might have a solution fer that."

Her eyes brightened with interest. "What kind of solution?"

"There's a path. An old hunting trail that leads through the woods tae a small lodge me faither built years ago. It's well hidden, far from any main roads, and I'd bet me sword that half me men dinnae ken it exists, nae tae talk of Murray."

"Ye'd take me there?"

"If ye want tae leave these walls fer a while, it's the safest way I can think of." He studied her face, seeing hope war with caution. "It's nae much—just a small shelter fer hunters caught in bad weather. But it's outside the castle, and it's ours."

The smile that spread across her face was brighter than any he'd seen since their wedding. "When can we go?"

"Now, if ye like. The path starts near the old oak grove, and the walk isn't difficult."

Within the hour, they were making their way through the castle's rear gates, Ruaridh leading the way along a trail so faint it was barely visible among the heather and bracken. The morning air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of pine and the promise of approaching autumn.

"How did ye find this path?" Iona asked as they walked, her voice lighter than it had been in days.

"Me faither showed it tae me when I was a lad. Said every laird needed tae ken ways in and out of his lands that others couldnae follow." He pushed aside a low-hanging branch, holding it fer her to pass. "I used tae come here when I needed tae think."

"It was me sanctuary. I would come here often. It became somewhere I could be just Ruaridh instead of the heir tae Clan MacDuff."

They walked in comfortable silence fer a while, following the winding trail deeper into the forest. Ancient oaks rose around them like cathedral pillars, their branches forming a canopy that filtered the light into dancing patterns on the forest floor.

It was when they were perhaps halfway to the hunting lodge that the first drops began to fall.

"Is that rain?" Iona asked, looking up at the sky through the trees.

As if her words had summoned it, the heavens opened. What had been a light sprinkle became a steady downpour within minutes, soaking through their clothes and turning the path treacherous with mud.

"The lodge is just ahead," Ruaridh called over the sound of rain drumming against the leaves. "We can shelter there until it passes."

They ran the last quarter mile, their boots squelching in the muddy trail as the rain intensified. By the time they reached the small stone building nestled in a clearing, they were both thoroughly drenched.

"Thank God," Iona gasped, stumbling through the door Ruaridh held open fer her.

The hunting lodge was simple but well-maintained—a single room with a stone fireplace, a few pieces of rough furniture, and shuttered windows that kept out the worst of the weather. Ruaridh moved immediately to the fireplace, where dry wood waited fer just such an emergency.

"There should be blankets in the chest by the wall," he said, coaxing flames from the kindling. "And some basic provisions if ye're hungry."

Iona found the blankets and wrapped one around her shoulders, shivering as she moved closer to the growing fire. "How long dae ye think the rain will last?"

"Hard tae say. Highland weather can be unpredictable." He settled beside her on the rough wooden bench, close enough to share warmth. "But we're safe here. Warm and dry, at least."

"It's peaceful," she said, looking around the simple space. "I can see why ye came here as a lad and then later."

"It was different when I was a lad. Everything was." The words came out more thoughtfully than he'd intended, and when she looked at him with those perceptive hazel eyes, he found himself continuing. "I used tae think the world was essentially good, ye ken. That honor mattered, that right would always triumph over wrong in the end."