Page 44 of To Win a Highlander’s Heart

“By her birthright she is a MacLeod,” Fiona said, stepping forward. “Doesn’t she deserve the protection of her family? At least until we can learn why she allowed the English inside the gates? There has to be a reason.”

Callum’s eyes widened. “How old is she? The legend of the flag would put her at over a thousand years old.”

Time passes differently in Fairyland than it does here in the human world.

“I say we treat her as a threat until she is proven otherwise,” Tormod said, a dark look on his face.

“That is not how we treat guests here at Dunvegan.” Gwendolyn’s voice rose above the others.

A hush fell amongst them as Rowena returned to the fire with a sleepy Emlyn in tow. “It is how many of us treated Izzy. Me included, which I now regret,” Rowena said, her cheeks flushed.

“We are all putting the cart before the horse,” Alastair said, his voice firm. “Let us find this woman, then take measure of her. That will tell us how to proceed.”

“Where do we find her?” Callum asked. “The isle is large and vast, with many dangers now that not only the clans but also the English are causing unrest.”

“If Isolde knows what is best for her, she will have stayed in MacLeod territory.” Alastair passed his gaze over those present. He and Tormod could each lead a unit of men. They could use Orrick’s help if he returned by daybreak. Even though he was young, Alastair would put Callum in charge of defending the castle. With the support of a large contingent of men, Callum would ensure that everyone inside remained safe.

With a plan in place, Alastair continued, “We can do nothing until first light. I suggest we all go to our beds and take what sleep we can. Tomorrow we will ride in two directions, trying to find not only this woman but also Graeme, Orrick, and Isolde if they do not return before we leave.”

Chapter Fifteen

As morning light swept inside the cave, forcing the shadows away, Isolde turned to Orrick. He was propped up on his elbow gazing down at her. A smile lit his dark eyes with a rare masculine beauty. Isolde remained silent as she gazed up at the man who would be her husband. A strange sensation curled in her chest. She didn’t know what she was feeling at this moment but she knew it was more than contentment.

“Are you well?” Orrick’s voice was low as his smile slipped, and a look of concern entered his gaze at her suddenly flushed cheeks.

She drew a shaky breath. “Aye,” she whispered. “I don’t think I’ve ever been better. It’s just that all this is so new to me, so unexpected.”

His concern fled and his eyes twinkled. “It isn’t exactly an everyday affair for me either.” He bent down and brushed his lips sweetly, tenderly against hers. When he pulled back, he brushed the back of his hand against her jawline. The simple touch communicated support, comfort, serenity. How could one gesture tell her all those things? But somehow it did.

He was gazing at her, his dark eyes softly intent, his expression holding the same breathless wonder she felt.

“Are we certain this marriage will not be a huge mistake for us both?” she asked, breaking the moment.

The warmth of his gaze remained steady. “If I’ve learned anything over the past few years, it is that one must have faith that all will be well.”

“I have faith in you, Orrick, and in the MacLeods. But there are still so many obstacles to overcome. Lieutenant Collins is not a man to take defeat lightly.”

“From the shadows in your eyes, I can see your thoughts going in a multitude of directions. Be calm and at peace. You, me, Graeme, and the warriors he brought can meet with your brother and gain his approval while avoiding the English.”

“Your family has no idea where you are,” Isolde said. “Perhaps we should go our separate ways until we meet up again at Dunvegan.”

Orrick shook his head. “Where you go, I go.”

After a moment she nodded. “We go together.” He enfolded her in his arms and she nestled against him, wanting to stay in this safe, warm moment as long as possible because she couldn’t shake the feeling that the world was about to come crashing down around them all.

*

When dawn gave way to the morning light, Alastair and Tormod were saddled and ready to ride out with a hundred of their men. Callum would remain at Dunvegan with another hundred men to protect those who remained behind.

As Alastair and his men waited for Mrs Honey and her kitchen staff to load the last of the supplies, his attention shifted towards the gate. There, standing before the iron portcullis, was a woman with hair as white as snow and a dress that looked as soft and delicate as the morning mist. Low on her narrow hips, she wore a belt that looked like golden leaves held together with nothing but air.

Alastair dismounted and strode towards the gates despite the bow she held in her hands. She did not raise the weapon to strike as he approached. Up close, he could see the woman’s hair was long and straight with small rows of plaits that were gathered around the crown of her head. And her eyes—never had he seen eyes the colour of the sky on a vibrant summer day. She stood still and silent as he stopped before her.

She fit the description Emlyn had given of the woman who had opened the gates to allow the English to enter Dunvegan. “Who are you?” Alastair asked, suddenly noticing that Tormod was beside him.

“My name is Aria.” Her voice was whisper-soft, yet filled with strength.

“Why come back here after what you did?” Tormod asked, his fists as tight as his scowl.