Page 59 of The Laird's Dangerous Prize
Isolde nodded, surprising herself with the sudden tightness in her throat.
Home.
After everything that had happened, the word carried new weight. She wondered what changes had taken place while she was gone? And would her family notice the changes in her?
The ancient trees closed around them like silent sentinels, their branches forming a natural canopy over the secret route. Isolde moved with practiced confidence, though it had been a while since she'd last traveled this path.
"We're nearly at the crossing stone," she called over her shoulder, pointing to a moss-covered boulder split down the middle by a sapling that had taken root decades ago. "From there, it's less than an hour tae the castle."
This hidden trail had been her escape route the night of the masquerade ball—a desperate gamble that had changed the course of her life. Now she was using it to return home, with the very man she had risked everything to see that fateful night.
"How did ye discover this path?" Ciaran asked, ducking beneath a low-hanging branch as they navigated a particularly dense section of woodland.
Isolde smiled, remembering. "I was but ten summers old, hiding from Rhona. I ran intae the woods, further than I'd ever dared alone."
She paused at a fork in the path, instinctively choosing the right branch. "I was lost and frightened when I stumbled upon the stone markers. I followed them out of desperation and found meself nearly at our castle's kitchen gardens."
The path widened as they emerged into a small clearing. Sunlight filtered through the ancient oaks, dappling the groundwith golden light. Isolde turned tae face him, watching as he surveyed their surroundings with a warrior's assessment.
"Is it that same sense of adventure that brought ye tae Castle Murray alone? Tae take a great risk," he said quietly, "using this path."
"Aye
"Why?" His eyes held hers, demanding truth. "Why risk so much tae attend a masquerade where ye ken Wallace might have men watching?"
Her heart quickened at the directness of his question. The answering silence stretched between them, filled only by the soft rustle of leaves overhead and the distant call of a blackbird.
"I wanted tae see ye," she finally admitted, the words falling between them like stones into still water. "Since that day ye came tae me faither's hall two years past. I wanted tae see if ye were truly as I remembered."
Something shifted in his expression. "Ah. The lass that was staring from the gallery. His voice had dropped lower, intimate despite the open woodland around them.
"And was I?"
"Nay." She turned away, resuming their journey along the hidden trail. "Ye were more."
Her admission hung in the air between them, creating a silence filled with unspoken possibilities. Isolde kept her gaze fixed ahead, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Ye foolish lass. Ye sound too desperate. After last night, cannae ye keep yer trap shut?
Ciaran guided his stallion closer until they rode side by side where the path widened. "About last night, at the inn," he began, his voice low. "I want ye tae ken that I?—"
"It's fine," she interrupted quickly, panic fluttering in her chest. Was he trying to let her down gently? Was he regretting their closeness? The thought of hearing him say he didn't want her, or closing his heart to her after what they shared was more than she could bear. "We were both exhausted from battle. Emotions run high after facing death."
"That's nae what I meant?—"
"We should focus on reaching the castle," she said, spurring her mare forward slightly. Better to change the subject than risk having her heart broken before they even reached her home.
"Wallace's men could be anywhere in these woods. He has been threatening our clan since me maither died. At first, it was merely offers of alliance through marriage—formal requests presented tae me faither at gatherings." Her face hardened at the memory. "When politeness failed, he turned tae thinly veiled threats."
"What kind of threats?"
"'Tis remarkable how many livestock can go missing along border farms," she said bitterly. "How many crops can mysteriously burn before harvest. How many hunting accidents can befall clansmen who stray too close tae Wallace lands."
Ciaran's jaw tightened visibly. "We've had similar troubles in the past along our shared border with Wallace. But I made sure I sent a strong enough message tae Wallace."
"He's growing bolder," Isolde continued, ducking beneath a low branch. "The attack on me at the ball was his most direct move yet. I ken I've been acting like it's naething, but if ye hadnae been there…" She left the thought unfinished, not wanting to imagine what might have happened.
"As we already discussed, he is interested in our land’s position," Isolde then continued. Control of our land gives him a direct path tae the northern passes and the western sea routes." She hesitated, reluctant to voice the clan's weakness aloud, hating how vulnerable it made her feel.
