Page 50 of Draped in Plaid
“’Tis I,” I answered. “And my family.”
“Good evening to ye, my laird,” they called back.
I waved, praying the moon didna shine down on our naked bodies. At least the women were wrapped up in the plaid again. “A beautiful evening.”
The guards went about the task of guarding, while I stared down at the two bodies on the ground.
“Nurse, go and fetch Lady Emma and her friends some clothes, and do not dally. The longer they are exposed out here, the more chances there are of someone seeing them. Of questioning what has happened.”
The nurse nodded, her head jerking oddly on her slender neck. Poor lass was probably in shock. “N-no one would, que-question ye, my laird.”
I smiled warmly at her. “Thank ye, lass. Go on now.”
She hurried off, tripping over her own feet more than once.
“Rory, Ewan, guard the prisoners and our women.” Emma was still cooing down at our son who gazed back at her with awe. “I’m going to fetch us some clothes and some rope to tie their hands.” I took off toward the castle, keeping to the shadows. No need for the guards to chatter into the night about their laird running naked through the gardens. While it wasna unusual for me to strip down to my skin and swim in the loch, the gardens was a new place altogether.
I entered the castle through a back door and stole up the servant’s stair toward my quarters. Once there, I slung a plaid around my hips and grabbed two more for Rory and Ewan.
I snickered at the thought of grabbing the silken ties I used with Emma, how satisfying it would be to lace them around Steven’s wrists while I whispered of the things I’d done to the woman he wanted. To be the victor.
But, then again, I didna want to waste—or soil—good ties.
Instead, I grabbed two of the hemp-ropes that were used to tie back the curtains of our bed, and hauled my arse back to the gardens.
The nurse had already returned and the ladies were now dressed. Everyone’s shoulders sagged with exhaustion, including my own. I was going to sleep hard tonight, and in the morn, I was going to wake Emma by making love to her without the affects of red, hazy incense.
I handed Ewan a rope, and he tied up Mrs. MacDonald, while I tied up Steven.
Ranulf hopped from foot to foot looking eager to please and confused all at once.
“When can we go back to Castle Dunleod, my laird?” Ranulf asked his father. “There are so many things I need to make amends for.”
“Soon. Help me carry the old lady to the dungeon.”
I hoisted Steven over my shoulder while Rory saw to it that Ranulf lifted the older woman in his arms.
“Emma…” I stroked her cheek, kissed her gently on the mouth. “I’ll meet ye in our chamber. Put Saor to bed, love.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Famished.”
“I’ll have Cook send up meals to all of our chambers so we can have quick bite as I’m certain we’ll all sleep well past breakfast.”
I kissed her again, forever grateful to have her in my life. I could still picture her to this day, the first time we’d met. Legs for days. She’d gone tumbling backwards down the entry stairs to Gealach, exposing her long legs, smooth and bare, as her skirts billowed up from her fall. At the bottom, she’d sat up, angry, scared, lost, and all I’d wanted to do was gather her in my arms and learn her secrets.
“What?” Emma asked.
I realized I’d been staring at her, my nostalgia probably written all over my face. “Nothing,mo chridhe. I’ll see ye soon.”
Emma lifted up and kissed me once more, then sauntered off with our son and the royal twin princesses.
“Let us see to these bastards,” I said.
When we got down to the dungeon, McAlister ran up to his cell bars and flung his arms through the spaces. “Wait! Who are they? Is that Mrs. MacDonald?”
He looked haggard and hopeful all at once. His hair, completely silver, flying in every direction.
