Page 58 of The Highlander’s Defiant Bride

Yet the moment had passed too quickly. When they spoke after, his words had been careful, measured, spoken like a laird thanking an ally, not a husband sharing joy with his wife.

Inside her chamber, she lit a single candle, the flame casting a fragile circle of light. From beneath her pillow she drew out the brooch from Cameron’s tartan. The metal was cool at first, then warmed in her hand as she held it close.

She pressed the brooch against her heart, eyes closing. Today, she had seen another side of Cameron. He was a man who could smile at a child tumbling at his feet and a man who could walk among his people and give them hope instead of fear. She loved him for that, loved him more fiercely with each passing day.

But love alone could not mend what was broken. His restraint tonight had been plain. She had felt it in the weight of his silence, in the way he had stepped back when she might have stepped closer. He still doubted her, still measured her loyalty against her father’s shadow.

Destiny curled onto her bed, clutching the brooch in both hands. “I will prove my loyalty to you. Somehow, I will prove it,” she whispered into the quiet, the words trembling with both joy and ache.

Chapter Nineteen

Three days later, the clang of the portcullis echoed through the courtyard as the gates creaked open. Destiny shaded her eyes against the rising sun, watching the columns of riders approach. Banners snapped in the wind, blue and green for Clan Sutherland, red and blue for Clan Ross. Horses stamped and snorted, the glint of spear points catching the light as two companies of men rode under the stone archway and into Foulis.

Cameron stood at the front steps, broad-shouldered and steady, his plaid thrown across his chest, his sword belted at his side. He had summoned these clans, calling in old ties of blood and oath to strengthen Foulis while Kenzie and Uncle Alastair carried the prisoner and their message south. He should have been able to summon the Gunn clan and their warriors as well—that, after all, was what their arranged marriage was supposed to provide—but her father had destroyed that by siding with the Mackenzies.

The Earl of Sutherland was the first to dismount, his grey beard trimmed neat, his bearing proud. “Laird Munro,” he said, clasping Cameron’s arm in greeting. “Word reached us of your plight. We have come as you asked, to stand with you should the Mackenzies test your walls again.”

“And you will have my men as well,” Laird Ross, younger but no less formidable, his eyes sharp as he looked around the stone walls, added. “If the Mackenzies think to strike, they will find no weakness here.”

Cameron inclined his head, his expression unreadable. “You honour me, both of you. Foulis is all the stronger when her allies stand with her.”

Destiny stood behind Cameron and felt the moment keenly. Their strength had doubled overnight, but so too had the strain. Hosting allied clans meant feeding them, housing them, smoothing old rivalries so they did not flare into quarrels inside the very walls they sought to protect. And she could see the guarded tension in Cameron’s jaw. He trusted these men in battle, but trust within Foulis itself was a rarer coin.

If she wanted to prove herself to him, here was her chance.

As the men began dismounting, Destiny stepped forward before Cameron could speak further. “You are most welcome at Foulis,” she said, her voice carrying across the courtyard. “Provisions have been laid in the hall, and quarters are prepared for your men. All of Foulis will see to their comfort.”

Cameron turned his head sharply towards her, surprise flickering across his face.

Destiny held steady beneath his gaze. “The clans must see not only strength of arms, but unity of spirit,” she added in a soft tone so that only he could hear her. “If they know they are valued here, they will fight all the harder when the time comes.”

Lord Sutherland gave a satisfied nod. “Spoken well, Lady Munro. A warm welcome strengthens the hand as much as any sword.”

Even Ross’s sharp gaze softened. “Your lady speaks with wisdom, Munro.”

Cameron’s jaw worked, but he said nothing until the two allies had moved away to oversee their men.

Only then did he lean close, his voice pitched low. “You take much upon yourself.”

Destiny stood her ground, gaze unwavering. “Because it must be done. They will look to you for command, but they will look to me for belonging. Let me prove I can be more than a burden, Cameron. Let me stand beside you.”

For a long moment he studied her, his hazel eyes unreadable. Then, slowly, he gave a short nod. “Very well. See to it. But know this—if you falter, the clans will remember it, and so will I.”

His words were stern, but Destiny caught the shift between them. He was giving her a chance.

She inclined her head, her heart hammering. “I will not falter.”

The great hall buzzed with voices as the Sutherlands and Rosses filed in, their warriors taking benches at the long tables. The hearth fire roared high, casting light across the stone walls and chasing away the chill that had clung to the morning. Platters of food and jugs of ale were carried in by the castle servants, the scent of roasted venison and oat bannocks filling the air.

Cameron sat at the high table, his posture taut, his expression carefully neutral as he studied his allies. Their presence strengthened Foulis, yet he knew as well as Destiny did that pride and rivalry could sour goodwill if not managed well. The clans had fought beside one another, but they had also fought against one another, and old wounds could be easily ripped open.

Destiny slipped into the role she had imagined for herself, moving among the tables with quiet confidence. She stopped to greet Lord Sutherland, who sat with his eldest son. “My lord,” she said warmly, “I trust your men find the food to their liking? The kitchens were eager to show their skill to such honoured guests.”

Sutherland’s eyes lit with amusement. “They have outdone themselves. You do your hall credit, Lady Munro.”

From across the table, Lord Ross lifted his tankard. “Ale flows freer here than in half the Highlands.”

Laughter rippled along the benches, and the tension in the air loosened. Destiny leaned closer, lowering her voice just enough to be heard by both lords. “Foulis is honoured by your presence. Together, we will show the Mackenzies their threats hold no sway. Our strength lies not only in numbers, but in unity.”