Page 20 of How a Scot Surrenders to a Lady

“I’ll go,” Cameron replied. “I intended to make my way to the largest castles to see if anyone kens anything about the man with the scar. If I can learn what clan he belongs to, we will ken who ordered him to act. And as Brigid is near the Earl of Ross’s home, it will be easy for me to stop and see Graham and warn him of the trouble stirring.”

“Wait to depart until the king does, Brother. This way he kinnae send men behind ye to track yer every move,” Iain said.

“Ye speak wisely,” Cameron agreed. “Did he share his plans?”

Iain nodded. “He intends to go to the MacDonald hold and to make his way to the Steward’s home from there.”

Cameron frowned. “Is that wise to go to his nephew, given the king’s suspicions that he is involved in the plot to force him from the throne? After all, the Steward did block David’s release from captivity by the English twice, and he seemed well pleased to sit on the throne in David’s absence for all the years of the king’s imprisonment.”

Iain smiled grimly. “I believe David finally feels he has enough power to punish his nephew for his part in keeping David imprisoned and for what he believes are the Steward’s attempts to rally other noblemen to rise against David so that the Steward can take the throne.”

“Does the king mean to publicly declare the Steward a traitor?” Lachlan asked, voicing what Cameron also wanted to know.

“Aye,” Iain replied, his voice vibrating anger. “The war for the throne is beginning, brothers. Pray to God we all come out alive.”

It felt like days had passed, but Serene knew by the moon rising in the night it had not been that long. She stood surrounded by a bevy of chattering women in the bedchamber she had been escorted to when she was allowed to leave the healing room, yet she felt very alone. Though the laird’s wife, Marion, was friendly enough, the other three women wore varying expressions that ranged from wariness to barely concealed hostility as they poked her to assess the fit for fashioning her some gowns. She looked toward the door once more, hoping Cameron, the only person who felt familiar to her, would appear. But the door to the bedchamber remained stubbornly closed, just as the door to the healing room had.

Cameron’s sister, Lena, caught Serene’s gaze as she looked toward the door.

The woman scowled at Serene. “My brother has more important things to do than attend to ye, so ye can quit staring at the door,” she snapped.

“Lena!” Marion and the other woman, Bridgette—who was rocking a swaddled babe in her arms—shouted as one. When the infant started to wail, Bridgette cooed, “Hush, my darling Magnus. I’ve ye safe in my arms.” When she looked up from her babe, she glared at Lena.

Serene’s cheeks flamed with astonished embarrassment at Lena’s words. She quickly looked away from the door to the gown that Marion had been holding up but was now crumbled against her hip. Marion frowned at Lena. “Don’t be cruel. It’s only natural that she is looking for Cameron since he is the only person, or even thing, she recalls of her past. You are being too protective!”

Lena’s fierce glare did not indicate that she agreed with Marion.

Serene touched her fingertips to the bandage around her head. The panic, which she had managed to keep under control thus far, stirred at the mention of her memory loss.

Lena tsked. “I dunnae ken the lot of ye. She says she dunnae recall anything, and ye all believe her without question.”

Serene’s spine stiffened at the woman’s angry tone and the accusing glare she fixed on Serene.

Lena pointed at her. “I dunnae believe ye,” she growled. “I’ll be more than happy to be proven wrong, but for now, I’ll be watching ye.”

“Lena,” Marion said on a gasp as she bent down and picked up the young child tugging on her skirts. “You are being rude,” she said, standing and settling the black-haired boy on her hip. He grinned as he began to play with her hair.

“Nay,” Lena disagreed. “I’m being truthful. I’ll nae mince words in this instance, nor force myself to pretty manners. My gut tells me ye will bring great strife to my brother, and I kinnae sit back and allow it to happen. I will defend him.”

“Yer brother is a grown man, and a warrior at that,” Serene said, trying not to be antagonistic but rather placating.

Lena narrowed her eyes into slits, and Serene rushed through the rest of what she wanted to say. “But I understand yer desire to keep him safe from harm,as it should be. He is yer brother, and even fierce men are nae invincible. If I had a brother—” Her heart squeezed within her chest, and she halted her words. Wrinkling her brow, she cleared her throat and started again. “If I had a brother—”

There!There it was again. That same tightening in her chest.

“What’s troubling you?” Marion asked, concern lacing her tone. The child on Marion’s hip stared at Serene with large blue eyes for a moment before he started playing with Marion’s hair once more.

Serene rubbed at the tension in her chest. “I believe I have a brother,” she said in almost a whisper.

“Do ye remember him?” Lena asked, the wary look she had been wearing replaced by a dubious one.

“Nay, but it’s a feeling I have here.” She pressed her fingers to her heart.

Bridgette nodded. “Aye, I understand what ye mean. When I think of my brother, I get a warm feeling of happiness in my chest.”

The blue-eyed, brown-haired woman called Marsaili, kneeling at Serene’s feet suddenly stopped pinning the gown they had demanded Serene put on to replace her bloody and torn one. Marsaili stood as a dark look swept across the woman’s features. “When I think of my brothers, Colin and Findlay, I feel gladness that the murdering devils are dead. But when I think of Graham, Iain, Lachlan, and Cameron, I feel hope.”

Serene must have worn a confused expression, because Marsaili said, “I only recently discovered I am half sister to the MacLeod brothers—and Lena, of course.”

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