Page 85 of The Highlander’s Savage Vow

The silence that followed was deafening. Outside the study windows, life at Castle MacDuff continued its normal rhythm, but inside this chamber, everything hung in the balance.

Finally, Iona spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Three days tae decide whether tae destroy meself with the truth or let Murray destroy us both with lies."

"Aye," Ruaridh said grimly. "Three days tae save everything we've built together."

Alistair cleared his throat gently. "Perhaps ye should take some time tae discuss this privately. Ye have three days tae prepare."

Later, back in their chamber, Iona sat frozen in her chair, her face pale as parchment, her hands trembling in her lap.

The dinner tray Ruaridh had requested sat untouched on the small table between them. He watched her until he could not stand it anymore. "Iona, look at me."

She raised her eyes to his, and he saw the terror there.

"It will be all right," he said quietly, his thumbs stroking across her knuckles. "Whatever happens, whatever ye decide about the letter—we'll face it taegether."

"Will we?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Or will ye wake up one morning and realize yer Council was right? That marrying me was the greatest mistake of yer life?"

"Never." The word came out fierce, absolute. "Ye're the best decision I've ever made, lass. The only one I can never regret."

She pushed a piece of roasted fowl around her plate. Beside her, Ruaridh's own meal remained equally untouched, though he made occasional attempts to eat.

"Ye should try tae eat something," he said, noting her pale complexion.

"I cannae." She set down her fork with a soft clink. "Every time I try, I think about standing before all those lairds, having them look at me like I'm some common criminal."

Ruaridh pushed his own plate away and turned to face her fully. "Iona, listen tae me. Whatever happens at that Council, whatever they decide—it daesnae change who ye are. It daesnae change what we have."

"Daes it nae?" She met his eyes, her own bright with unshed tears. "If they declare me a traitor, if they order our marriage dissolved⁠—"

"Then we'll leave Scotland. Start over somewhere else."

"Ye'd give up everything? Yer clan, yer birthright, yer family?"

He reached for her hands again, his grip warm and steady. "I'd give up anything fer ye. But it willnae come tae that. We'll find a way through this."

Ruaridh could see that she wanted to believe him, but she still fought with uncertainty. "I hope so," she whispered.

But as Ruaridh held her in their chamber, a darker thought settled in his mind—one he couldn't voice aloud. If the Council went badly, if the political cost became too great, would Iona try to disappear rather than let him sacrifice everything for her?

He tightened his arms around her, as if he could keep her safe through will alone. Three days. They had three days to prepare for a battle that could cost them everything—including each other.

The thought of losing her, of waking to find her gone in some misguided attempt to save him, made his chest constrict with panic. Whatever happened at Stirling, he had to make sure she understood there was no version of his future that didn't include her in it.

Even if it meant losing everything else.