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The border was home.

She’d never expected to live this far north. But she’d come to realize the people here were the same as back home. Resilient. Fierce. Borderers were the only kind of people she’d ever want to live amongst.

She looked back, and her protector, still there, stared out into the countryside as well. He was too far away for her to speak to without shouting.

Scotland. Her home, where she’d been accepted by everyone except the one whose acceptance mattered most to her.

Gillian still did not know how she would react when Graeme returned. Part of her wanted to rail at him for hurting her. But another part of her, the one that understood this arrangement had been difficult for him to accept, wanted to open up to him completely. Tell him, as she’d planned to do before, how she felt.

And if he does not accept you?

“My lady!”

The shout was so loud and unexpected that it sent a rush of fear to her very core.

Gillian turned to find a lone rider approaching from her left. Her guard moved his horse in front of her and addressed the English knight, who clearly did not belong here.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Much of the knight’s face was hidden by his nasal helm. He looked from Alban to Gillian, and though he did not reach for his sword, Gillian worried this would not end well. Like her protector, the stranger was not a small man. She gripped her reins tightly, expecting the need to flee.

“I am no one,” he said. “Just an Englishman on my way to—”

He looked at her then.

“The Isle of Skye,” he finished.

“You are a long way from there,” Alban said, none too kindly.

“I know,” he said, clearly disappointed.

Relaxing—he did not appear to be a threat—Gillian added more gently, “I am not from here, so I cannot help you, sir.”

The knight nodded and saluted them both.

“Then I apologize for trespassing. Good day to you both.” And with that, he rode away.

“We should return to the castle,” the Scotsman said.

Gillian smiled. “What a very mysterious Englishman,” she said. “Thank you,” she added, “for the warning.”

Her only reply was a grunt and something that sounded like “duty.”

“Well, I thank you even so. You are a very fine protector.”

And though Gillian could not swear it, she thought she may have spied a slight upturn in his lips. A smile? Not quite. But maybe the beginnings of one.

It would have to do for now.

Gillian led them back, lighter than she’d felt in days. And as they approached the gatehouse, she knew exactly how to handle Graeme. No more thinking. No more hesitating.

34

“He’s coming.”

Gillian had been about to sit for the midday meal. But at Aidan’s announcement, she immediately stood back up.

“Sit, Gillian. He isn’t walking through the castle doors any moment. I only meant he’s on his way home.”