Page 61 of The Laird's Dangerous Prize
"So," she said, breaking the silence between them, "what now?"
Ciaran's eyes remained on the castle for a long moment before turning to meet hers. "I ken what I said before, about taking ye home and returning tae me duties. But last night... everything has changed."
Her heart quickened at his words, but practicality tempered hope. "I cannae simply ride up tae the front gate with ye at me side. Me faither would have questions I'm nae prepared tae answer. I'll take the secret passage back intae the castle."
Cairan agreed, nodding toward a barely visible trail that disappeared into the rocks at the castle's eastern side. "And I'll wait here until morning and approach the main gate as any visiting laird would."
Isolde nodded, though the thought of him so close yet separated from her pulled uncomfortably at something in her chest. They had spent so much time within arm's reach of each other. The prospect of sleeping alone felt suddenly strange.
"By then I'll have spoken with me sisters tae prepare them," she advised, gathering her reins.
Ciaran reached across the space between their horses, his hand covering hers. "Isolde—" he began, his voice deep with emotion he rarely displayed.
"I ken," she interrupted softly. "I feel it too."
For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then, with visible reluctance, he released her hand. "Tonight then," he said, "ye return tae being Lady MacAlpin. And I, Laird MacCraith."
With a final glance at Ciaran, Isolde turned her mare toward the hidden trail. The separation felt like a physical ache, but she pushed the feeling aside. She was Lady Isolde MacAlpin now, returning to responsibilities she'd left behind weeks ago.
The passage entrance was nearly invisible unless one knew where to look—a narrow gap between two boulders, obscured by thick gorse bushes that scratched at her arms as she dismounted and led her horse through. Once inside, the path descended sharply, winding between stone walls that grew closer as she progressed.
After tethering her mare in a small hidden meadow where the animal could graze, Isolde continued on foot, moving single file through the narrow passageway.
The passage narrowed further until she had to turn sideways to slip through a final crevice. Her hand found the familiar iron ring embedded in the stone wall, and with practiced motion, she pulled. A section of wall swung inward with a soft groan, revealing a small, dusty chamber filled with forgotten furniture draped in yellowed linens.
Isolde emerged into what had once been her great-grandmother's solar, now unused for decades except as her secret entrance and exit. She brushed cobwebs from her hair,straightened her riding habit, and moved quietly to the door that connected to the family wing.
The corridor beyond was empty, but voices drifted from her sisters' shared sitting room. Familiar, beloved voices that made her throat tighten with emotion. She paused outside the partially open door, suddenly uncertain. What if they were angry at her disappearance? What if they'd worried beyond bearing? What if her father had found out and was frantic with worry?
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
Three faces turned toward her in perfect unison. Lorna, Isla, and Aileen's expressions transformed from casual conversation to stunned disbelief in an instant.
"Isolde?" Aileen, her youngest sister, whispered the name as though afraid speaking too loudly would make the apparition vanish.
Then all three were rushing toward her, surrounding her in a tangle of arms and tearful exclamations. Isolde found herself half-laughing, half-crying as they pulled her into their circle, touching her face and hair as if to confirm she was real.
"Ye're truly here!", Aileen gasped, her grey eyes bright with unshed tears.
"We've been so worried!", Isla added, her usual boldness tempered by genuine relief.
"Where have ye been?" Lorna demanded, her hands fluttering over Isolde's face as if memorizing every detail.
The questions tumbled over each other as they drew her to the window seat, clustering around her like birds on a branch.
"Let her breathe, fer heaven's sake," Lorna, ever the practical one, finally said. "Can ye nae see she's exhausted?" Indeed, now that the initial rush of homecoming had passed, Isolde felt the weight of the journey in every muscle. "I've so much tae tell ye," she began, looking from face to beloved face. "But first—" She glanced around the room, suddenly aware of who was missing. "Where's Rhona?"
The silence that answered her question was heavy and unnatural. Her sisters exchanged glances laden with meaning, a silent communication that excluded her. Cold dread pooled in Isolde's stomach.
"What is it?" she demanded, her voice sharper than intended. "Where is our sister?"
It was Aileen, the youngest at sixteen, who finally spoke, her gray eyes wide with barely contained tears. "Rhona went looking fer ye," she said, her voice small in the sudden stillness of the room. "When ye didn't return after three days, she said she couldnae bear nae kenning if ye were safe."
"She took the secret path," Lorna continued when Aileen faltered. "Said she'd follow yer trail tae Castle Murray if need be."
Isolde's heart pounded against her ribs. "Have ye told faither?"
"Nay. She made us swear. We went out too a few times but..." Isla swallowed hard, unable to continue.
