“I’m fine, Mum,” Faye reassured her.
“We were so worried.” Clara caught Faye’s hand and clung to it as tears filled her crystal blue eyes.
“How did ye know to come here?” Faye asked.
“Yer grandda approached me a day before ye disappeared asking about yer betrothal,” her mother replied. “When ye dinna come home, it was too easy to guess what that arse of a man had done.” The anger on her face deepened to sorrow. “I worried about ye every day, hoping ye were safe and healthy. At the verra least, well cared for.”
Memories of the journey to the Highlands flooded Faye’s thoughts as the reality of everything that had transpired overwhelmed her. The forceful way she’d been stolen from her home. How she’d spent so much of that journey bound in chains like a prisoner, shoved in that damn box. Then left in a room to wait for a man she could barely remember to claim her as his wife.
A sob burst from her, and her mother pulled her into an embrace. “I swear that if he hurt ye, I’ll kill him.”
“He didn’t,” Faye lied. Her mother couldn’t know the truth of it. Faye wouldn’t have her mother embroiled in any of this, or her sisters for that matter. She wanted her family as far from her grandfather as was possible.
Faye burrowed into her mother’s embrace even as a voice in the back of her head told her a grown woman shouldn’t need such comfort from her mum. But she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. Not when her mother provided such solace.
“I’m too old for this, Mum,” she offered weakly.
Her mother exhaled a hard breath and finally released her. “It doesna matter how old ye are, lass. Ye’ll always be my bairn. Ye and all yer siblings.” Tears shone brightly in her eyes, but her voice remained clear.
“We’re here to bring ye home.” Kinsey puffed out her chest and glared around them. “And if anyone tries to stop us, I’ll put an arrow through their eye.”
“Ye needn’t be so violent,” Clara chastised before their mother could.
Kinsey nudged Faye with her elbow. “Says the one of us with perfect aim. Even she brought her daggers with her.”
Of all of them, Clara had the most skill when it came to weaponry. She could pin a fly against a tree with the point of a dagger from seventy paces away. All without so much as hesitating to aim. Were it not for her impossibly gentle nature, she could have possibly been the best mercenary Scotland had ever seen. England, too, at that.
“Did ye actually bring yer daggers?” Faye asked in surprise.
Clara simply shrugged, as if it were of no concern. “We want ye home and will stop at nothing to see ye safe.” She smiled tenderly at Faye. “We love ye.”
Love.
If it were a tangible thing, it would be in Faye’s hands right now, as thick and warm as a coverlet filled with down, something she could wrap around her shoulders.
Ewan rose forefront in her mind.
Could I love him?
“We must go.” Kinsey pulled at her arm, dragging her a step forward.
Faye shook her head. “I can’t go.”
“Have they threatened ye?” Kinsey demanded.
“Whatever it is, ye need not worry about it,” Clara confirmed. “We’re here.” She settled one small hand on a dagger at her belt.
The show of intent from someone as soft-hearted as Clara tugged anew at Faye.
“I’m not leaving,” Faye protested.
If she allowed herself to be taken away now, her grandfather would most likely be back for Clara. To force her into another marriage with some other neighboring clan whose favor he sought. Faye’s presence at Dunrobin meant he would keep his word and leave her family be.
“Let us get ye gone from this place.” Kinsey tugged at Faye’s arm again.
A figure appeared in the doorway of the castle.
Ewan.
Faye’s pulse quickened.
“I canna go,” she said again.
Her mother and sisters looked toward the doorway as Ewan descended the stairs, his handsome face set with an intense expression Faye couldn’t make out.
Kinsey slid her gaze cautiously from Ewan to Faye. “Who is this?”
“This is Ewan Sutherland, Chieftain of the Sutherland clan,” Faye said by way of introduction. “My husband.”
Silence followed Ewan’s introduction to Faye’s family as they stared up at him with apparent wariness.
While Faye’s sisters all had the same slender nose and large eyes, taking after their mother by the look of it, they did not share her fair hair. The one with wavy red tresses put herself in front of Faye. “She’s returning home with us.”
“We’ve been wed for nearly a fortnight.” Faye shifted around her sister and came to his side. “Ewan is a good man.”
Kinsey’s mouth fell open. “He forced ye to marry—”
“He didn’t,” Faye said vehemently. “I made my own decision.”
Under the fear of a threat.
Ewan kept the words to himself. This was Faye’s family. It was her decision what she wished to tell them on the matter of their marriage. And what she wished to keep secret.
Faye’s dark-haired sister glanced first to her, then to him, before cautiously stepping forward. Her smile was kind and genuine as she offered a small curtsey. “I’m Clara.”
Faye’s mother approached tentatively, also looking to Faye as though weighing the truth of her words. “I’m her Mum, Cait.”
They all looked to the red-haired sister, who scowled back at them. She folded her arms forcefully over her chest. The bow slung over her back awkwardly tipped to the side, making her have to uncross her arms to toss it back into place, which made her scowl all the more.
“That’s Kinsey,” Faye said with a sigh.
“Welcome to Dunrobin Castle,” he said. “The evening meal was just served. We’d be honored if ye’d join us.”
Faye put her hand around his arm. “Please join us. We can speak on this more later.”
“Of course.” Cait approached her and pressed a kiss to her brow.
