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He reached for her hand again, and this time she allowed it.

“I thank you for assisting the men.” He nodded toward one of the guards in a nearby tower. “But I believe standing watch may not be the most suitable position for you.”

She reached up with her free hand, before thinking, and brushed it along his cheek. No longer smooth, the few days’ growth made him appear more fearsome. It tickled beneath her fingertips.

“How did you know—”

“I saw you up here,” he said, capturing her hand with his own. “Even if it were not for this”—he gestured toward her gown, a bright blue which could likely be seen quite clearly from afar—“I’d not have missed the sight.”

When he looked at her like that, Gillian felt her knees quake.

He took a step toward her.

She could feel the warmth of his body, and when he leaned in to kiss her, Gillian didn’t hesitate. His lips slanted over hers, gently at first, but then more insistent. She was just becoming accustomed to the feel of him when Graeme suddenly tore himself away. Then, without preamble, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along. They walked toward the tower he’d pointed to earlier, and then beyond it.

“Graeme? Where are we going?”

He didn’t look back. “Where we belong.”

That made no sense.

They were headed to the main keep. She remembered Fiona telling her this was called the armorer’s tower. She followed Graeme down the winding stairs, her heart beating harder and harder with each passing moment.

“Graeme, I need to tell you something,” she started.

He stopped, and Gillian ran into him. It was like hitting a stone wall. He didn’t budge. Instead, her husband caught her around the waist. Standing there, in the middle of the tower on a small platform with stairs above and below them, they didn’t speak. Instead, he told her with his expression all she needed to know.

They would talk. But not now.

“’Tis midday,” she said as he reached out to open a door. Once ajar, Gillian could see it was a secret passageway. Graeme ducked into it and Gillian followed. He closed the door, which was disguised as a part of wall, and continued to lead the way toward their chambers.

“The armorer’s tower was built years after the keep. There are many secret passageways,” he said, answering her silent question. “But this one was designed as a last defense for the lord . . . and now lady . . . of Highgate.”

They’d arrived.

Graeme opened the door to the lord’s chamber, pulled her inside, and closed it behind them. Except for the guards, they’d seen no one on their way here. Indeed, if that hidden passageway was one of many, one could move about the castle without notice. For some reason, the thought excited her.

“I’ve much to tell you,” she repeated as he pulled her toward him.

“And I you,” he said.

“Later.”

* * *

He’d had no intention of ravishing his wife today.

In fact, after the hellish two days he’d spent being betrayed, by Gillian’s father no less, Graeme had come home unsure of what he intended to do first. Speak with Aidan, assuredly. Formulate a new plan. Make his wife understand he did not blame her for the sins of her father.

But certainly not this. At least, not before he’d had a chance to announce his arrival.

And yet Graeme had found himself riding up to the gate at a more frantic pace than usual, and when he’d spied his wife on the ramparts, that flash of blue had instantly cheered his spirits.

And so he’d tossed all good sense aside and run to her like a lovesick squire. Not, of course, that he was in love with his wife. But he could not deny the urgent need that had only intensified each time they were together.

Their differences could wait. The fall of darkness could wait.

Graeme intended to make this woman his wife in truth.