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T he sun was beginning to set behind the Highland peaks as Lileas found herself standing in what would be her chambers.

The room was larger than she had expected, with tall windows that offered a sweeping view of the loch beyond the keep's walls.

A fire crackled cheerfully in the stone hearth, casting dancing shadows across tapestries that depicted scenes of Highland history.

Fiona bustled about the chamber, directing the servants who were bringing in heated water, linens, and a tray of food and drink. Connor's wife commanded immediate obedience from the household staff, who seemed genuinely fond of her.

"I hope this will suit ye," Fiona said, smoothing the coverlet on the large bed. "These have been the lady's chambers for generations of MacNeil wives."

"It's beautiful," Lileas said honestly, running her fingers along the carved wooden headboard. "Far grander than anything I had at my father's keep."

"Ewan wanted ye to have the finest chambers in the keep," Fiona continued, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Before Lileas could respond, a soft knock at the door interrupted them.

A woman entered, perhaps sixty years old, with silver-streaked hair neatly braided and kind eyes.

She wore a simple but well-made dress, and her hands bore the telltale stains of someone who worked regularly with herbs and healing compounds.

"Morna!" Fiona exclaimed with obvious delight. "I was hoping ye'd come to meet Lileas properly."

The older woman stepped forward with a warm smile. "Aye, I had to see for myself the lass who finally captured my lad's heart."

"Yer lad?" Lileas asked, confused.

"Morna raised Ewan and Connor after their parents died," Fiona explained gently. "She's been more of a mother to them than anyone else. She's also our healer and has a cottage just beyond the main keep."

Morna studied Lileas with eyes that seemed to look straight through to her soul, and her smile grew even brighter.

"I kenned ye'd be good for my lad. Ye made him work for it, which is a good thing.

Ewan has always needed a challenge, and no lass has ever made him chase her down.

" She paused, noting the slight tightening around Lileas's eyes.

"Now now, dinnae get jealous. I see it in yer eyes.

'Twas the past, lass, his future is you. "

Lileas felt heat rise in her cheeks, embarrassed that her momentary flash of jealousy had been so easily read. But Morna's words were spoken with such kindness that she found herself smiling instead. "I thank ye for raising such a fine son."

Morna's expression shifted with surprise, and for a moment her composure faltered.

A tear shimmered in her eyes as she reached out to take Lileas's hands in her own weathered ones.

"Thank ye, lass. Ye'll do well. I kenned it the moment he told me ye ran away.

" She chuckled then, the sound warm and knowing.

"Takes a strong woman to run from what she fears, and an even stronger one to face it when she's ready. "

"Word has spread throughout the keep about yer actions during the Ferguson attack," Morna continued. "The clan is asking to meet ye properly, to thank ye for saving our laird and his men."

Lileas felt heat rise in her cheeks. "I only did what anyone would have done in such circumstances."

"No, lass," Morna said firmly. "What ye did was remarkable. Cameron's men have been telling the story to anyone who'll listen, and Grant and Patrick can barely contain their excitement when they speak of yer fiery sling that turned the tide of battle."

Fiona clapped her hands together with delight. "Oh, this is wonderful! I was so worried about how the clan would receive ye, given... well, given the circumstances. But if they've heard about yer courage and quick thinking, all those concerns will be forgotten."

"The circumstances as in my running away from my wedding?" Lileas repeated, feeling a stab of shame at the reminder.

"Pay no mind to that now," Fiona said firmly. "What matters is that ye're here, ye've proven yerself, and the clan will accept ye as Ewan's wife and their mistress. The past is behind us."

As if summoned by their conversation, the sound of voices could be heard in the corridor outside.

"That'll be the clansfolk," Morna said with obvious satisfaction. "Half the keep wants to meet Lady MacNeil and hear the story firsthand. Let's get ye ready to meet them."

***

T HE GREAT HALL OF MACNEIL Keep had been transformed for the evening's feast. Tables groaned under the weight of roasted meats, fresh bread, and vegetables from the keep's gardens. Ale and whiskey flowed freely, and the air was filled with the sound of laughter and animated conversation.

Lileas sat at the high table beside Ewan, wearing one of the gowns that Fiona had somehow procured for her. The dress was a deep blue wool, and she had managed to tame her hair into an elegant arrangement that befitted the wife of a laird.

Throughout the evening, a steady stream of clan members approached the high table to pay their respects.

"My lady," said Graham Sinclair, an elderly man who served as the keep's blacksmith, "Patrick has told me of yer sling. I would be honored to help ye create whatever ye might need for yer... weapons."

"Thank ye, Master Sinclair," Lileas replied warmly. "I would very much like to discuss some ideas with ye, if ye're willing."

"It would be my pleasure. Any woman clever enough to send the Fergusons running with their tails between their legs is someone I want to stay on the good side of."

Similar conversations continued throughout the evening. The clan members who might have held reservations about their laird's choice of bride now looked at her with obvious respect and admiration.

"They've accepted ye," Ewan said quietly, his voice carrying satisfaction and something that might have been relief. "Yer actions today have earned their respect."

"I'm glad," Lileas replied. "I want to be worthy of their trust."

"Ye already are," Ewan assured her, his hand finding hers beneath the table. "Ye saved my life today, and the lives of good men who serve this clan. They will not forget that."

As the evening progressed and the ale continued to flow, the atmosphere grew more relaxed and celebratory.

Someone produced a fiddle, and soon music filled the hall as couples began to dance.

Lileas found herself drawn into the festivities, dancing with various clan members who wanted to welcome their new lady properly.

When she finally returned to the high table, slightly breathless from the energetic reels, she found Ewan watching her with an expression she couldn't quite decipher.

"Ye're happy," he observed, and it wasn't quite a question.

"I am," she realized with some surprise.

"They see yer worth," Ewan replied. "As do I."

The words carried weight beyond their simple meaning, and Lileas felt warmth spread through her chest. This man, who had every right to resent her, was looking at her as if she were something precious.

***

E VENTUALLY, THE EVENING began to wind down. The older clan members started making their excuses and departing for their homes, while the younger ones settled in for more drinking and storytelling.

"Come," Fiona said, appearing at Lileas's elbow with perfect timing. "Let me help ye prepare for bed. Ye've had a long day, and ye need yer rest."

Lileas allowed herself to be led from the great hall, though she was acutely aware of Ewan's eyes following her progress. She turned back once to see him deep in conversation with Connor and several of his men, their expressions serious despite the festive atmosphere around them.

"They're discussing security," Fiona explained, noticing her backward glance. "The Ferguson attack has them all worried. But dinnae worry, MacNeil men are cut from the finest cloth. They will not let any harm come to our clan, and ye are very much family now."

After Fiona departed, Lileas found herself alone in the large chamber, wearing a simple shift. She moved to the window, looking out over the moonlit loch and thinking about the events of the day.

***

M EANWHILE, IN THE COUNCIL room, the brothers sat before their own fire with cups of mead, discussing the very real dangers that faced their clan.

"The Ferguson attack was too coordinated to be a simple raid," Connor said, his expression grimmer than usual. "They knew exactly where to find ye, and they came prepared to take Lileas."

"Aye," Ewan agreed. "'Tis not like their laird to try and kidnap another man's wife. The leader Dugald kept saying they were doing it for him, but I've met Bhaltair Ferguson before. He doesn't seem the type to do such a thing."

Connor leaned forward, his dark eyes intense. "If they're targeting the Lady of MacNeil Keep, an attack on her is an attack on our entire clan. At least the marriage is official and consummated, so there's no question of her status or our obligation to protect her."

Ewan's hand tightened on his cup, and he looked away from his brother's penetrating gaze. The silence stretched between them, growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment.

"Ewan," Connor asked slowly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Ye are officially married, and it has been consummated?"

"The first part, yes. The second... not yet."

"Brother," Connor said, his voice carrying a warning, "I think ye need to get on with that as soon as possible."

"I ken it," Ewan replied roughly, running a hand through his hair. "But I promised I would not couple with her until she asked me to."

"Are ye daft?" Connor scoffed. "If the Fergusons take her before the marriage is properly consummated, they could claim an annulment. They could force her to marry their laird, and there would be nothing we could do about it legally."

The words hit Ewan like a physical blow. He had been so focused on being considerate of Lileas's feelings that he hadn't considered the political and legal implications of their unconsummated marriage.

"I wanted to give her time," Ewan replied.

"She needs to understand the danger," Connor continued relentlessly. "And ye need to stop treating her like she's fragile. She's stronger than ye think."

Ewan stared into the fire, knowing his brother was right but still reluctant to pressure Lileas into something she might not be ready for. "I will not force her."

"Then find a way to make her want it," Connor said with bluntness. "Because if the Fergusons take her, force will be exactly what she faces. And it will not be from a man who cares about her wellbeing."

***

S OMETIME LATER IN HER chamber, Lileas paced before the dying fire, her mind working through the same implications that the brothers were discussing. The Ferguson attack had been a sobering reminder of the dangerous world she now inhabited.

Her marriage to Ewan, while legally binding, remained unconsummated. In the eyes of the Church and the law, that made it vulnerable to challenge. If she were kidnapped and forced into another marriage, there might be grounds to claim her union with Ewan was invalid.

She had spent the evening watching him, seeing the way he looked at her with growing warmth and affection.

Whatever had begun as a political alliance was developing into something deeper, something that she found herself wanting to explore.

The thought of losing that possibility to clan warfare was unbearable.

The decision, when it came, was sudden and absolute. Lileas would not be a passive victim of circumstances beyond her control. She would not allow fear or uncertainty to rob her of the chance for happiness with a man she was beginning to care for deeply.

Moving with quiet determination, Lileas made her way down the dimly lit corridor. She knew where Ewan's chamber was; Fiona had pointed it out during her tour of the keep.

Standing before his door in nothing but her thin shift, Lileas took a deep breath and knocked softly.

When the door opened and Ewan appeared, his shirt unlaced and his hair tousled from running his hands through it, they stared at each other for a long moment. His eyes widened as he took in her state of undress, the determined set of her shoulders, and the resolution in her eyes.

"Lileas," he said softly, his voice rough with surprise and something deeper. "What are ye doing here?"

"I've come, willingly, to be with my husband," she replied simply, her chin lifted with characteristic stubbornness.

Ewan hadn't moved, instead he just stared at her in silence though his eyes became somewhat darker, and that made Lileas suddenly second-guess her decision. She blushed from the embarrassment that maybe he didn't want her after all.

Lileas partly stammered, "That is... ah... if ye'll... have me—"

Before she could finish the sentence, Lileas gave a startled cry when Ewan suddenly lunged for her and pulled her inside his chamber.

She heard the door close behind her but did not have time to register much else before she was in his arms with his lips on hers.

Ewan growled deep in his throat, and Lileas could have sworn she felt the sound right down to her womb.

She shuddered at the onslaught before giving in completely and throwing her arms about his shoulders so she could enjoy the most delectable kiss of her life.

The time for hesitation was over.

***