The soldiers removed their hands and instead gestured for her to follow them towards their horses. She looked around nervously, and it was clear she had no desire to go with them. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth again.
Darach walked forward and sighed. “I’m not ordering ye to yer death, lass, just yer prison. Ye’re in desperate need of a bath and food. And I’m providing you with what ye need.”
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him with a frown. “If ye want tae provide me with what I need, then give me a horse and food and let me go back tae my own lands. I’ve nae need of yer hospitality. I’d much prefer tae be on me way home as soon as possible, thank ye very much.”
There was a sudden quiet among the riders. None of them had ever heard noblemen of the council dare to raise their voice at Darach, much less a woman.
“I’ve nae horses tae spare ye, my lady. And furthermore, ye are nae going anywhere until I’ve sorted this matter out. If ye have nae wish for a bath and yer choice is to spend the days it takes me tae negotiate with yer father in filth, then I’ll be glad tae oblige ye. But ye must eat, or I’ll force it down yer throat mysel’. Ye need tae be alive even if ye stink.”
What kind of a woman was she? And it was obvious she was no prisoner. He behaved the best he could with her. What more did she want? He watched her stare at him, and then she pursed her lips as if to argue but evidently decided against it.
“Iwouldlike a bath,” she muttered.
“Then I suggest ye follow the men intae the keep before I change my mind.”
As she turned, she mumbled something under her breath that he didn't hear. His eyes narrowed. As he watched the guards gently helping her mount his horse, he thought that the dissenting nature of this lass was trying his patience.
He looked around for his brother, only to see him grinning.
“My frustration amuses ye, brother?” he called out in a gruff voice.
“Nay,” Morven replied with a slight chuckle, to which Darach raised his eyebrows. “Och, maybe a little. I’ve never seen anyone ruffle yer feathers as she did.”
“She’s a damned thorn in the side. I cannae bear staying with her another moment.” Darach cussed under his breath as he looked at her retreating form galloping away.
He could not bear to stay away from her either.
“And yet ye cannae stop fretting over her.”
“I need her tae be well, brother. She didnae do anything wrong. Her faither has thrown Kenn in his dungeons.”
Morven’s eyes flickered with shock.“We should discuss this in the keep.”
Darach nodded. “We will.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Darach launched himself on the horse they had brought for him and flicked the reins. His heart raced frantically—the sheer relief of being home for the first time in months overwhelmed him. He gazed wearily at the looming keep as they rode through the final stone skirt and into the familiar courtyard.
The place was just as he’d left it months ago. Men were everywhere, most of them training, some tending to repairs on portions of the inner wall, and a few resting and drinking water from the pail near the steps.
A loud roar erupted as the men saw him ride in alongside his brother. Their laird was back. Darach waved at them as he rode through the courtyard. When he halted, a stable boy dashed forward to grab the reins of his horse.
He’d barely dismounted when Lorna flew out of the gates of the house, laughing hard as she ran forward to hug him.
“Darach! Finally, ye are home!”
“Finally I am, sister.” Darach held her and kissed the top of her head and then released her when Morven chuckled.
“Ye’re weary, brother,” his sister said.
“Aye, but ‘tis nae of import.”
“Ye’re cold and wet!”
“The fire will warm me soon enough.”
“Good God,” Morven scoffed jokingly. “When will ye stop treating our brother like a bairn of yers? He’s one of the mightiest warriors in the Highlands!”
Lorna turned her nose up at him. “What I choose tae do is no concern of yers.”