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Douglas left the room, troubled. He locked the door and hoped that Lyndsay would obey his wishes. If she left, then she would be discovered, and he found the prospect of her death was not one he wanted. He never thought he would be this conflicted about an English girl, but here he was. He was hoping that the ride and the meeting with his uncle would give him some clarity.

He walked downstairs to find most of his men dozing after the festivities of the night. Empty bottles of wine were piled around them, and loud snores were almost as raucous as the singing had been. Fergus and a few others were in the kitchen sharing some food. Their conversation finished abruptly when Douglas entered. The men stared at him, but Douglas ignored them and walked up to grab a hunk of meat.

“Did ye sleep well?” Fergus asked.

Douglas wasn’t sure if there was an air of suspicion to the man’s words or if he was just imagining it.

“Aye, like a wee bairn,” he said, before sinking his teeth into the tough meat. “And ye?”

“Oh aye, it was a shame ye left. We shared in our triumph and spoke of the future. If this is any sign, then the Highlands are gaeing tae be in for a rude awakening,” Fergus said.

“Indeed. I am gaeing tae ride out tae meet my uncle and see how the other raids went,” Douglas said.

“I’ll come with ye,” Fergus said, motioning to move, but Douglas shook his head.

“That’s nae necessary. I want ye tae stay here and stand guard in case the English come tae attack.”

Fergus looked at him in disbelief. “I hardly think that’s gaeing tae happen,” he said.

“Ye admitted yerself that a few people slipped out of yer grasp. One of them might hae reached somewhere tae offer help. It would be a disappointing end if we left this place and found it recaptured. The laird would nae be happy,” Douglas said.

Fergus snarled, but there was no way to argue with Douglas’s point.

“Fine, but I hope ye let Laird Wallace know that all of us helped ye take this place. Dinnae take all the glory for yerself, Douglas,” Fergus spat.

“I would nae dream of it,” Douglas replied, even though he knew that Fergus would have done exactly the same thing in his position.

He finished off the meat and sauntered away, hearing the conversation rise in his absence, and he suspected that he was the subject of it. No doubt Fergus was complaining again, as Fergus always did. Well, when the man was ready to have a duel with Douglas, Douglas would be prepared to put the matter to rest.

He unsaddled his horse and nodded to the men who were rousing themselves after a night of feasting. He looked to the horizon and noticed how peaceful it was. It was strange to think that just the previous day, carnage had occurred. He mounted his horse and then turned to one of the men.

“Fish that head out of the well; we hae tae drink from there,” he said.

The man grumbled but was not about to disobey an order from Douglas Galbrith. As Douglas rode away, he cast a lingering glance back toward the house, at the window of the room where Lyndsay was being kept. In his absence, he dearly hoped that she would remain safe. In such a short time, he had become accustomed to her presence, and he didn’t like the idea of coming back to find her dead. It was strange, but he felt as though he could talk to her about anything. There were some people in his clan who he did not feel that way about. Yet she was English, and this was the most puzzling part. Despite being born with weak blood, she was spirited and clever and sharp—all qualities he admired. She was brave, too, and beautiful.

She was on his mind for the entirety of his ride, and he wasn’t quite sure how she had managed to have such an effect on him.

The horses’ hooves thundered through the forest as he made his way to the rendezvous point. When he had left his uncle, the other force had split up again and gone to strike at other estates on the border, raining violence upon the English in one terrible day. When Douglas arrived, the various warriors were there, some of them in better condition than others.

“Ah, Nephew!” Laird Wallace said, walking over to Douglas and slapping his hand on Douglas’s shoulder after Douglas had dismounted. “Ye look well. I take it there was no trouble?”

“Nay, none at all,” Douglas said.

“It’s a shame that nae all of us can say the same thing. Apparently, some of the English were stubborn,” Laird Wallace said, nodding to a beaten and bloody warrior who looked as though he had been through hell. “But at least we made them pay. Oh, we’ll be in their nightmares for generations tae come,” he boasted.

Douglas forced a smile. The more he thought about Lyndsay and all this bloodshed, the more he wondered if it had truly been necessary. There had been so much death, so much violence. Surely the same result could have been accomplished with even a half of the attacks. He didn’t dare bring up his concerns with his uncle, though, for he knew that Laird Wallace would only see a tender heart as weakness.

“What happens now?” Douglas asked. “Dae we ride back tae the Highlands?”

“Nae just yet,” Laird Wallace said.

Douglas frowned at this. “But what about the English? It’s inevitable that they will send an army after us. If we stay in these woods, they might catch us off guard.”

Laird Wallace shook his head and acted as though it wasn’t a problem at all. “Ye worry tae much. It will take time for the English tae summon their forces. By the time they reach the border, we will be back in our homes, ready for the next attack. But I want tae leave them with another important message,” he said, and then turned to address all the men. “I want ye tae gae back and burn the homes ye hae taken. I want them tae find nothing but ash when they arrive.”

Most men approved of the idea, but some, like Douglas, were a little confused.