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Kieran wanted to ask why she did not come for him first before delivering such news, but he refrained. He’d not question her judgement. Maisie was accustomed to running the Red Stag alone, and though he hated the fact, it was the way of things.

“I believed, at first, he was simply moving on. He and his men went into the stables, I presumed to fetch their horses. I waited for some time, but they never emerged. Until they did. Standing at the door, peering inside, I was taken unaware when MacBrannigan appeared suddenly and grabbed me, dragging me to this spot.”

“You fought him, clearly,” Niall said just as Lina ran up to them.

“I could not remain any longer,” she said. “Maisie?”

“She is well,” Kieran said as Lina went to Niall’s side. He explained. “Maisie was attacked and was explaining what had happened.”

Lina looked around. “Attacked? By whom? Where is the attacker?” She met Kieran’s eyes, understanding immediately. “Ahh.”

“I tried to fight him,” Maisie continued. “But he dragged me to where you found us. I could not scream and prayed only that you would come to find me. Which you did.”

“I should have come sooner. I thought it odd you were not in the hall.”

“I am thankful you came when you did. But you’re injured and . . .” She swallowed. Likely it was the first time Maisie had seen a man killed. Even a bastard such as MacBrannigan, a man who attacked her . . . it was not an easy thing to witness. Nor should it be.

“The bastard deserved to die,” he said. “Tales of his cruelty are well-known. Likely he’d never have left you alone.”

“Who was the man?” Lina asked.

“Duncan MacBrannigan,” Niall said.

“He is the MacBrannigan chieftain, is he not?” she asked.

“Was,” Kieran corrected.

None said any more for a time until Maisie, unfortunately, pulled her hand from his. “Come, we will fetch the healer. Your arm continues to bleed through.”

He wanted to say so much more. To tell Maisie that, despite his many battles, he’d never felt a terror rip through him as it had when he saw her pinned against that wall. Instead, he agreed as their party made their way into the inn.

Between what he and his brother had learned that day, the attack, and his feelings about what had transpired, they had much to discuss. It seemed from the way Maisie looked at him as they walked through the door, she agreed.

20

Chapter

If Maisie thought Kieran protective before, this eve he was more so than usual.

She insisted on returning to work, the inn needing her attention after she’d gone missing unexpectedly. None knew what had transpired behind the stables, and Maisie hoped to keep it as such.

MacBrannigan was dead.

She did not mourn the loss of such a man, precisely, but as Kieran had correctly surmised, seeing him slain was not something she could rid her mind of. One moment, he was alive, coming at Kieran when he turned to look at her.

The next, he lay on the ground, blood seeping into the grass. It was the sounds she remembered most, strangely. Of swords clanging. Of MacBrannigan’s men shouting, promising their revenge against Kieran and Clan Duncraig.

“My lady?”

“Aye, Margaret?” she asked the maidservant.

“Cook sent me to tell you the stores of grain are low.”

That could not be so. “We’ve had grain delivered less than a sennight ago.”

Margaret shrugged as if to say she knew not the reason for it. “I will speak to her.”

Reminding herself to do so, Maisie attempted not to think of what had happened earlier. Her fear when she realized MacBrannigan had made good on his promise. She should have waited until she’d come back into the inn, with Kieran at her back, to tell him to leave. But the way he sneered at her . . . she shook her head as if to clear it of the memory of him.