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E vander hurried back into his room, Rory hot on his heels.

“M’Laird?” Rory called, his voice thick with concern.

“If ye’re trying to convince me nae to go, ‘tis nae going to work, Rory,” Evander insisted, a note of finality lacing his voice.

“’Tis dangerous out there, M’Laird. Ye cannae possibly think I’ll let ye go on yer?—”

“’Tis exactly what ye’re going to do,” Evander grunted.

He took off his rumpled shirt and grabbed a fresh one.

“Ye are going to stay here”—he pulled the clean shirt over his head, impatience coursing through him as he tugged it down his neck—“and watch the castle while I find Keira and bring her back home.”

Rory sucked on his teeth, watching Evander put on a clean pair of trousers as well. “At least let me come with ye.”

Evander grabbed his sword belt, wrapped it around his waist, and proceeded out of the room, his boots clicking hard against the wooden floor as he moved.

“If the Laird and Lady of the castle are both away, the next in command is their man-at-arms. Stay here and man the castle until I return with her.”

They walked into the Great Hall, taking a shortcut that led straight to the courtyard instead of the passage by the dining hall, which was often crowded. Maids and stable boys lingered around the halls, all watching Evander cross the floor toward the other side, Rory following right behind him.

Evander could hear them again. The whispers, the murmurs that surrounded him. Was this what Keira had to deal with in the past four days?

“M’Laird, there is nay reason to bring back that killer. ‘Tis a good thing she left of her own accord too and didn’t wait to be thrown out.”

Evander skidded to a halt. He turned on his heels, but what Rory had not seen was the fist swinging toward his face. Evander’s knuckles slammed into his chin, sending him stumbling back a few steps. Loud gasps rang out from almost all sides of the hall.

“Call me wife a killer again, and the last thing ye will have to worry about is a broken jaw.” Evander remained standing, watching Rory’s face turn red as he pushed himself off the floor. “Ye should be ashamed of yerself.”

He looked up, staring at the servants still lingering around the hall.

“Ye should all be ashamed of yerselves! Yer lady has been nothing but good to ye. Good to all of ye! And this is how ye all repay her? By turning on her when she needed ye the most? I am quite certain ye are nae stupid enough to believe that a woman like her is capable of murder—and if ye all do, then I am quite disappointed.”

Silence fell over the hall, thick enough that one could slice through it with a knife.

Rory rubbed his aching jaw.

“The lady put her trust in all of ye, and in one fell swoop— one trying moment—ye all revoked yer trust in her. What happened to loyalty? To the benefit of the doubt? Ye all made me life a living hell when I first arrived here because ye were all loyal to her . Her orders always trumped mine because ye were all loyal to her . What in the devil’s name changed in the past few days?

Ye all really think she killed her former husband and intended to kill me?

I am severely disappointed in all of ye Mallachd ort! ” Evander spat.

The thickening silence could have assumed a physical form if he had let it linger for too long. Instead, he shook his head and dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword, the anger on his face unwavering.

“Ye should all apologize to her when we get back,” he barked. “And aye, we will be coming back, together. ”

“M’Laird—” Rory tried, but Evander was already gone.

His footsteps echoed through the halls as he walked away, ignoring the murmurings that had broken out behind him, knowing the tone and the intention behind them had changed.

He had one thing and one thing only on his mind now—bringing Keira back home.

His feet quickened across the grass once the evening wind crashed into his face, his eyes glued on the stables. He couldn’t believe he was now the one going to fetch her.

Was this truly his life?

He grabbed a horse and pulled it out of its stall, before leading it out into the open air. He swung himself up into the saddle and reached for the reins as he pushed his feet into the stirrups.

He needed to stop lying to himself. He needed to finally acknowledge his feelings and admit it, no matter how much it hurt to do so.

He had never intended for this to happen. It had never been his intention to fall in love with her. This was supposed to be a simple raid. He was supposed to take the castle and send her packing, along with her servants.

Part of him wondered whether this would have been a completely different story if he hadn’t agreed to the terms laid out by the councilmen—to not change the staff.

But the truth was sometimes a bitter root to swallow. It didn’t stop it from being the truth.

He flicked the reins and kicked his heels into the horse’s flanks, urging it into a run.

The truth was that he had been in love with Keira ever since he saw her. Now, that was the truth. The first time she had turned to look at him in her garden. The first word she had said to him.

“And who are ye again?”

The utter disregard she had shown him that day made something click inside him. Something that had told him she was not just any ordinary woman.

She was something else. Something fierce. Something special. Something he would not find in any other woman.

Something he was bound to lose if he didn’t make it to the inn on time.

He had always been in love with Keira; there was no need to deny it, especially to himself.

Everything that had happened since their first meeting had only solidified his love for her further.

He thought of the night they had shared the same bed by mistake, her ploy with Thistle, the way she had been so quick to assume that Shona and Tommy were his wife and son.

The way she grinned when she thought she won.

The way she moaned his name. The way she cried when she realized he was alive.

He loved her. He was in love with her and would do anything for her. Nothing had ever been clearer to him.

He flicked the reins again, urging the horse to go faster as they tore through the woods, racing hard against time.

He stopped right before the inn and tethered the horse to a post nearby. He looked up at the towering building and felt his heart beat rapidly in his chest. Without wasting more time, he took a deep breath and hurried into the building.

An older man sat behind a table by the door, his gray hair glistening in the candlelight.

“Greetings,” he started, panting hard. “A woman took a room sometime today. I would like to ken what room that is.”

The man looked up at him, like he couldn’t be any less important if he tried.

“I dinnae ken who ye talk about.”

“I ken for a fact that she’s here, old man. The last thing ye want to do is toy with me.”

The man sucked in his teeth. “Away with ye this instant. Find a tavern to get drunk in.”

After a few altercations and rank-pulling, he managed to extract information about Keira’s room from the older man who manned the post at the entrance.

“Ye’d better hurry, M’Laird. She will be leaving soon,” the man had said to him in a rather shrill tone. One that seemed to insinuate he was mocking him.

Evander hurried toward the steps, praying hard to God that his wife was still there. That she had second thoughts about this whole thing and was just waiting for him to show up, plead with her, and sway her mind to the right side.

She belonged in the castle with him. And the only way he belonged in the castle was with her. He couldn’t imagine a life without her, and if he was being frank with himself, he didn’t want to.

He flew up a set of narrow stairs and found himself in a dimly lit hallway. A few doors lined the walls to his left and right, but all of them were closed.

All except one, which was open a crack.

He moved closer to it, and the open window in the room came into view. So did Keira.

And Hudson.

He paused. Hudson? What was he doing here?

Her man-at-arms was standing before her, cornering her between his body and the wall. His stance sent a shudder down Evander’s spine.

Something was happening here. Something evil.

Evander couldn’t hear their conversation he moved closer, making sure his feet were light on the floor.

The murmurs slowly grew louder and transformed into coherent sentences.

“’Tis a good thing that the former Laird was killed. Had ye chosen to marry me by then, this wouldnae have happened,” Hudson said, raising his hand to stroke her cheek.

Keira felt her heart stutter. “Died,” she corrected. “Ye mean died.”

“Nay.” Hudson’s response was quick and absolute. “I mean killed. I did it for ye.”

Keira swallowed, the ringing in her ears growing more deafening by the second. “Hudson? What did ye do?”

“I killed Fletcher. I had him poisoned for ye, Keira.”

Not M’Lady, but Keira.

Something about the way he said her name sent a chill down her spine.

“I could have killed yer second husband, too. But ye chose him over me. Ye chose to save him over me. ”

Keira swallowed against a dry throat. Her eyes flicked to the open window behind her and then returned to Hudson’s predatory stance. Now was not the time to be confrontational, that much she knew.

“Hudson, look. Ye’re Lesley’s braither,” she started. “And I have always considered ye as me braither as well. I never asked for yer protection, and ye ken it. Nae from Fletcher, and certainly nae from anyone else.”

Hudson took a step closer to her, which made her heart sink to her stomach. “But Fletcher was a terrible man,” he pointed out.

“I ken what he was.”

“He probably would have killed ye like he did his first wife. Do ye nae see? I made his heart fail for ye. After he died, I thought ye would finally see me. I thought we could finally be together. But then—” He broke off. “But then he arrived and ruined the whole thing.”