Page 79 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

"Aye, but ye got yer hands dirty alongside ours. That means something tae folk like us."

Similar conversations followed throughout the evening as they prepared to return to the castle. Families that had lost everything expressing gratitude not just for material help, but for the fact that their future laird and lady had stood with them in their darkest hour.

"Ready?" Ruaridh asked as they prepared to mount their horses for the journey home.

"Aye." Iona looked back at the village, where temporary shelters now dotted the landscape and cooking fires sent smoke spiraling into the clearing sky. "Though I think we'll be back tomorrow. And the day after that, until everyone's properly housed again."

"Of course we will," he agreed, and something in his voice made her look at him more closely.

"What?"

"Naething. It's just..." He helped her into her saddle, his hands lingering on her waist. "Watching ye taeday, seeing how ye handled everything—ye were magnificent."

"I was daeing what needed tae be done."

"Aye, ye were. And ye did it like ye were born tae it." His green eyes held an admiration that made her chest warm. "These people will follow ye anywhere after today."

As they rode back toward the castle through the muddy twilight, Iona reflected on the day's events. She'd come to the village thinking she needed to earn their respect. Instead, she'd discovered something far more valuable—she'd found her place among them. Not as a lady looking down from above, but as someone willing to stand beside them when times were hard.

It was, she realized, exactly where she belonged.