Page 76 of Bride of the Beastly Laird

“Me love, I was so afeared. I thought Craig would kill me first and then he’d take yer life.”

He tightened his grip on her. “Nay. He had nay chance. Nothing could save him once he’d threatened ye. Ye are everything tae me, Dahlia.” He dropped a dozen little kisses into her hair. “Me life without ye would be naught.”

Taking a linen kerchief from her pocket, she handed it to Arran with a shudder. “Can ye staunch the blood fer me? I can feel it trickling down.”

With the scrap of linen, he dabbed at the blood still escaping from the wound Craig had inflicted.

The sound of a faint chuckle caused them both to turn their heads toward the open door to the room.

Haldor, chest heaving, blood spattering his tunic, his sword in his hand dripping blood, appeared in the doorway. His lips quirked in a triumphant grin.

Dahlia raced to his side. “Braither, are ye wounded?”

He shook his head. “Mayhap I’ve a bruise or two.” He held up his arm where a cut to his wrist was trickling blood. “But this is nae me blood, sister. It is the blood of the man ye feared.”

She rushed her hand to her mouth. “Is Bairre… is he…?”

“Aye. He’ll never threaten ye again Dahlia.”

She breathed out a long exhalation and let herself subside into Arran’s arms. “I can scarcely contemplate what me life will be like without the menace of that man hanging over me every breath.”

“Aye, me love. With the end of Bairre Mackinnon’s life, ours can begin at last.”

Haldor looked at them curiously. “Mayhap we have much tae discuss. All being well, we will soon be away from this place and on our way back tae Castle MacLeod. But first, I must see tae the men and me braithers.”

They followed him down the stairs and out into the inn-yard and found Ivar and Arne seated on a bale of hay in the stables, cleaning their swords.

Ivar gave them a satisfied smile. “We’ve nay more than one or two wounded among our guards.”

Arne grinned at Arran. “Ye’ll have nae more concern with Bairre Mackinnon’s men. Those who survived the clash beat a hasty retreat. Mayhap they’ll be on their way back tae their castle or wherever they decide tae roam.”

Haldor turned to Arran. “And there’s a new laird will be taking his rightful place as the head of Clan Mackinnon and making his home at the castle.”

His eyes spilling with joy, Arran took Dahlia’s hand in his strong grip. “And mayhap the new laird will nae be alone in his castle.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

As they rode toward Castle MacLeod, Dahlia gulped in deep breaths of the crisp morning air. It had never felt so fresh and clear, and the chirruping of early birdsong was the loveliest music she’d ever heard. It was difficult to grasp the reality that Bairre would never menace her again, that the dark shadow he’d cast over her life was gone for good.

She was free.

Exhausted, filthy, her hair an untidy bird’s nest of tangled knots, her clothing torn, she’d not experienced such a sense of lightness and pure joy of freedom in years. Maybe, having lost here freedom, regaining it was all the sweeter.

Flanked by her brother, with Arran riding alongside, her heart was singing. As the castle came into sight she gasped with delight. Soon she’d be in her home, safe once again, surrounded by her loved ones.

She flicked a sideways glance at Arran. His presence beside her warmed her and filled her with hope for the future. Her thoughts raced back to the night they’d spent in the old stables and his declaration of love and proposal of marriage.

At the time, it had seemed impossible. She was betrothed to Bairre Mackinnon by a decree of King Robert and there was no way out of that. Even though the danger was past, she shuddered at the thought of his hands on her and the cruelty in his eyes.

As they rode through the portcullis and into the courtyard Sofia, Catalina and Emilia came running down the steps of the keep. They reached her as she dismounted and, as the groom led her horse away to the stables, the women seized her in a fragrant three-way hug.

“We’ve been mad with fashing over ye,” Sofia said and tightened the hug.

“I’ve nae slept a wink,” Catalina said through tears.

“All I could think of was ye in the clutches of that madman,” Emilia said, the relief in her voice palpable. After all, only she among them, knew exactly what cruelty Bairre Makinnon was capable of.

As the men dismounted, the women hastened across to them, leaving her standing by herself, her head in a whirl.

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