Faye sat forward in her chair. “I beg yer pardon?”
The young man ducked his head, revealing the top of his bushy blond head. “They claim to be yer family, my lady. They’re in the bailey and insist on seeing ye both.”
Ewan nodded toward the large entryway. “Go to them. I’ll join ye in a moment.”
Faye leapt to her feet and raced through the Great Hall, heedless of so many eyes set upon her. She would have gone with or without Ewan’s permission, though she hadn’t anticipated he would deny her the opportunity to see her family.
They’d come for her.
All this time she’d worried they would think she was dead, or that they might not ever see her again. Drake, so strong and determined. Kinsey, all fire and driven with purpose. Clara, with her exquisite kindness. And Mum…
Tears blurred Faye’s vision, but she’d ventured through the castle enough times by now to know its layout. The missive she’d sent her family would not have reached them yet. They hadn’t come because she’d summoned them.
They’d come because they’d sought her out.
Such a realization made her tears spill over. She ran faster, erupting from the entrance to the castle and out into the cold night air.
All at once, there they were. Her mother with Kinsey on one side and Clara on the other.
“Faye!” Kinsey’s voice pierced the quiet with excitement, and the trio ran toward her.
They met halfway in a fiercely clashing hug. Arms curled around Faye, bringing with them the familiar sweet scent. Faye closed her eyes, welcoming the torrent of memories of her home and family, ones she’d turned away from previously in an attempt to stay sane.
They rushed back now, brought on by the familiarity of her sisters’ and mother’s voices and the clean perfume of lavender. Clara sewed the little sachets every time she harvested her herbs, setting aside a batch of buds specifically to perfume the kirtles stored at the foot of their beds. It was such a small, simple thing that Faye had always thought foolish.
Now, it was the smell of home. Of love.
“Thanks be to God ye’re here,” her mother whispered.
“Where’s Drake?” Faye hoped he hadn’t left his post at Werrick Castle, not when it meant so much to him.
“Two or three days behind us.” Clara glanced at the horizon as if she might be able to see him making his way to Dunrobin already. “We had a missive sent to him.”
“Are ye hurt?” Mum held Faye by the shoulders and looked at her, examining her with a sharp gaze from her head to the scuffed toes of her shoes.
“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. “Ye do look well, daughter.”
Faye smiled at her mother. “I am well cared for here.”
Ewan offered Cait his other arm, which she took with a careful smile.
Clara joined them next, followed by a reluctant Kinsey. Together, the four of them returned to the Great Hall, where Ewan had them sit at the dais with Faye and himself as their honored guests. After a quick introduction to Moiré and Monroe, they all settled down to eat.
Kinsey glanced at the platter of food and groaned. “Eel?” She turned an accusatory look at Faye.
“Shush now.” Cait shot her daughter a stern look.
“It isn’t what I ordered to be served tonight,” Faye said apologetically.
Clara took a piece, then did little more than stare at it.
“Ye don’t have to eat that, Clara,” Faye said.
Clara lifted her gaze, her face bright with relief. “I didn’t want to be rude.”
Faye laughed. “Oh, Clara, ye’re too kind. We spent far too long eating this when we were children to ever have to endure it again.”
“And we ate so much.” Kinsey grimaced.
“It wasna that terrible,” Cait protested.
All three of her daughters stared at her, skeptical.
“Well,” she conceded, “mayhap it was.”
They all laughed this time, including Ewan, who promptly ordered more bread to be brought to the dais.
“Do ye remember the time Faye managed to bring home that old chicken?” Kinsey asked. “I’ve never seen such a pathetic bird in my life, but we ate it as if we were kings being served the greatest feast.”
Faye’s cheeks darkened with a blush, and she glanced at Ewan with apparent discomfort. “We don’t need to speak of such things,” she said to her sisters.
“I’ve had my fair share of eel.” Ewan made a face of disgust that made Kinsey laughed. “My da loved it, but I could never stand it. ’Tis mayhap the first time it’s been served here since his death.”
“I don’t understand what happened to the venison.” Faye shook her head. “Tomorrow should be a pigeon pie. I fear what may come out instead.”
“It happens sometimes,” Moiré offered politely. “’Twas yer first day running the keep.”
“And ye did a fine job of it.” Ewan beamed proudly at Faye.
“Except for the eel.” Faye frowned at the food that had caused so much offense.
“Talk to cook on the morrow.” Ewan reached for a plate of vegetables. “’Tis no great concern. Regardless of what we’re eating, ’tis among good company.”
And it was. He hoped Faye’s family might be what finally set her at ease, allowing her to be herself truly and mayhap open up to him.
She smiled so much more among them. A bright, unfettered grin that lit the room with her joy. He’d never seen her so happy, and it made him realize how all this time, she must have been miserable.
Aye, she had been the one to make the decision to wed him. But after witnessing what she regained with her family, what she had been forced to give up marrying him, he couldn’t allow her to keep making such a sacrifice. Even though the threat had not been his doing, she had still been coerced into their union. He could overlook it no more.
Though it twisted an ugly knot in his chest, he knew what he needed to do.