Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Deirdre screamed, jumping to the side on instinct, but the hand gripped her tighter. A million thoughts battled in her head. How stupid she'd been to come here! Now she was going to die, alone in the market, and Aoife could say I told you so at her grave. She struggled hard enough to get loose and started to run without much hope she'd get away—until she heard a thump and a cry behind her.

A second later, the knife skittered past her on the ground, thrown from its attacker somehow.

She turned, unable to comprehend what was going on, and saw the attacker laying face down on the road, his knife hand extended ahead awkwardly in the direction the knife had flown. Over him, the stranger from the market stood with an unreadable expression on his face, his stormy eyes churning with anger. He didn't hold any weapon, not so far as Deirdre could see, but it was clear that he was the one who had felled the other man.

"Is he…dead?" she whispered into the sudden dead silence in the small alley. She knew her scream and the sound of the scuffle would attract others soon enough, but for now, it seemed that only she and the stranger existed at all.

The man shook his head. "Not dead," he replied, his voice much gruffer now than the smoothness she'd heard in it before. "But only because I left me dagger behind. Are ye all right?"

She nodded, staring at him in disbelief. "Ye knocked him to the ground without a weapon?"

He shrugged. "It's not so hard if ye ken what ye're doin'."

"But ye could have been hurt!"

He shook his head. "I'd rather be hurt a thousand times than let some low-life scum hurt a woman frae behind. If ye're going to kill, at least do yer foe the decency of meetin' their eyes."

Something about the way that he said those words made her shiver…but not entirely out of fear. The odd way she'd been drawn to him before was back, stronger than ever now. He intrigued her in a way nobody ever had, and though she could tell there was something very dark about him, that very darkness intoxicated her. She wanted to know more about it, to lean into it, to find in him the freedom she'd been seeking. He was a true mystery, one she wanted to solve.

But before she could respond, the silence shattered and armed guards hurried into the alley, weapons at the ready. There were four of them, and then, behind them, Lachlan followed, his own dark brow furrowed with anger or concern, or maybe both.

The guards turned their weapons on the stranger, and Deirdre hurried forward, placing herself firmly between them. "He saved me," she told them, her eyes seeking her brother-in-law directly. "This man, he—he stopped my attacker." She pointed to the man on the ground.

Lachlan held up a hand, and the guards lowered their weapons. He nodded to one of the men, who approached the unconscious attacker and knelt by him, obviously inspecting him. While that was happening, Lachlan moved closer to Deirdre and spoke in a quiet tone.

"What were ye thinkin'?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Deirdre's insides quailed under that look, but she forced herself to stay outwardly strong. "How did ye—did Gracie tell ye where to find me?"

"Me mam told me," Lachlan replied, "When she came back with the bairns. And thank God she did. I'll ask again, what were ye thinkin '?"

"I wasn't hurt!" Deirdre protested. She knew he was right to be angry, but she couldn't help but defend herself. "Ye got here and found me perfectly fine!"

She expected him to scold her, but what he did was much worse. He sighed, shook his head, and turned his back on her.

"Report," he commanded.

"One of Bram's, sir," the inspecting guard replied, getting to his feet. "He's got the same seal as the others. He's comin' around as well. What do ye want us tae do with him?"

"Take him. James will want tae question him," Lachlan replied. He nodded to another of the guards, and the two of them grabbed the groggy man and pulled him away.

There was a moment of silence.

"Lachlan…" Deirdre started softly.

He ignored her completely, turning to the stranger now. "Thank ye for yer assistance," Lachlan said. "It's good ye came when ye did."

"I did what anybody would do," the stranger replied. Deirdre almost laughed at that. What anyone would do! Hardly! The stranger glanced her way, and Deirdre felt herself grow warm when he met her eyes. He shot her a brief smile before turning back to Lachlan.

"Can ye tell us what happened?" Lachlan asked.

"I met the lady in the market a while ago," the stranger replied. "And when she left, I thought we'd just go our separate ways. But I saw that lad skulkin' after her, and it became clear he was followin' her. I couldn't just leave it be, so I followed a bit behind. I was goin' tae follow until she was on the grounds of the keep then leave—but then she ducked into this alley and he drew a knife, and, well…"

Lachlan nodded. He didn't reprimand Deirdre about the alley or anything else, but only because he was not acknowledging her at all. He was in full business mode now—and anyway, he was probably going to leave the scolding for his wife and Blair later on. Deirdre wanted to sink into the floor just thinking about it.

The two men spoke a little more while the two remaining guards kept their eyes pointedly focused on Deirdre. She thought that was a little insulting—she may have behaved slightly foolishly, but did he have to treat her like a disobedient child? All she wanted was to be acknowledged, to be able to explain herself, but Lachlan never even so much as looked at her. She couldn't even blame him entirely. After all, he followed Jocelyn's lead—and this was how her older sisters saw her, too.

"Well, thank ye. I make be sure she gets back home safe…?" Lachlan said, trailing off into a question at the end.

"Ciaran," the stranger replied. "And ye're Lachlan McAndrew, aye? The Laird's Wraith?"

Ciaran. The dark one. Aye, a fair name for my mystery savior, Deirdre thought to herself.

Lachlan chuckled. "So they call me. If ye wish a reward for yer help?—"

But Ciaran was already shaking his head. "Only…may I perhaps speak with the young lady before ye head off? I see her starin' and I feel she might have somethin' tae say."

Deirdre blushed furiously as Lachlan turned back to face her, and saw Ciaran winking and grinning. He was still teasing her, even at a time like this! She knew she should be angry at such behavior, but mostly she just wanted to laugh. And beyond that, she really wanted to talk to him.

"He did save me life," she said in answer to Lachlan's silent question. "May I at least thank him before ye drag me back tae the castle for me sisters tae scold?"

An unreadable look crossed Lachlan's face then, and he sighed and nodded. "Five minutes," he said.

Deirdre nodded in thanks and headed across the alley and over to Ciaran's side. They took a few steps away, out of earshot but not eyesight of the others, before either of them spoke.

"So," she said after a moment. "Ciaran, is it? A good Celtic name."

He grinned. "Glad I was able tae not disappoint, I suppose," he replied. "And ye are? I never got yer name."

How strange to be anonymous! Ever since as far back as she could remember, Deirdre had always been known . She was the McMillan baby, the youngest, the pretty girl with the red hair. At her uncle's castle, of course, everyone had known her, and here was the same. Even the stew vendor from earlier had instantly recognized her as Blair's younger sister. Deirdre had never really been in a situation where she'd been asked to introduce herself to anyone .

So, for Ciaran to be asking her name now…it was strangely exhilarating. Here was the chance to try out what it was like to just be Deirdre —not Blair's sister, not her late father's daughter. Ciaran didn't know any of those things about her, only that she was a noblewoman of some sort. He was just interested in talking to her as a person, nothing more than that, and the draw she felt toward him grew even stronger at that realization.

"Deirdre," she said after a moment. "Me name is Deirdre."

He smiled, a true smile rather than a smirk or grin this time, and her pulse quickened at the sight. "Deirdre. A tragic heroine, tae be sure, but a beauty tae be remembered through all time. Aye, it suits ye. Hopefully more the latter than the former part of the description, though."

"Hopefully," she agreed with a small laugh. "And, well, ye've already helped me avoid tragedy. I ken I should have said so sooner, but thank ye for what ye did. Ye saved me."

Ciaran waved a hand dismissively. "I did nothin' beyond the duty of any decent man," he replied, "And perhaps even less, because I had another motive."

She frowned. What did he want from her? Money? Access to the noble family he had guessed she had and the connections that came with it? What?

"Ye see," he continued, "Our brief conversation earlier…it's a rare thing that a woman can catch me attention so quickly. I was a fool tae walk away from ye in the first place."

Deirdre's thoughts froze as she tried to understand his words, so different from what she'd expected him to say. She wanted to respond with a witty comment or even something heartfelt, but the only word that rose to her lips was, "What?"

Her bluntness and confusion didn't seem to bother Ciaran. He just said, "I want tae see ye again. Preferably with fewer murder attempts. After ye've got all this sorted out with yer guards and the sisters ye mentioned, will ye not join me for a cup of wine this evenin'?"

She didn't say anything.

Obviously interpreting her silence as fear, Ciaran hastily added, "Ye can bring whichever escort ye wish, of course! I don't want tae put ye in a position where ye feel unsafe or yer virtue is called intae question. It's just that I'd kick meself if I didnae at least try?—"

"It isn't that," Deirdre interrupted quickly. She could feel her blood pulsing and a strange combination of excitement and fear swirling just below her rib cage. "Truly, I would love tae meet ye. But I'm not allowed tae leave the castle—and after what happened here today, they're goin' tae be even firmer about such things."

Ciaran nodded, the disappointment clear in his sharp features. "I understand," he said. "Don't ye worry about it. Yer namesake, too, was bound before she could follow the man who caught her eye."

Deirdre swallowed, feeling herself begin to tremble, but forced herself to speak in a plain tone. "Presumptuous, are ye not? Tae assume such things?"

"Perhaps," Ciaran answered, "But I'll tell ye this; if I'm correct, and I've caught yer eye as much as ye've caught mine, I'll die a happy man."

She stepped closer to him almost involuntarily, heat flooding through her. "I'd rather ye lived a happy man," she replied in almost a whisper.

"Aye? Then meet me. Tomorrow. Sundown."

Deirdre bit her lip. She knew she had to refuse. She knew she had to end this fantasy before it could go any further. She glanced over her shoulder to where Lachlan and the two remaining guards were waiting, all three politely looking away but obviously being very cautious and aware of where Deirdre was at all times.

"I…" she started, but the words that came out were very different once again than the ones she'd planned. "All right. Tomorrow, sundown, at the grand oak in the field outside the castle. It's surrounded by a golden flowerbed, ye can't miss it."

Ciaran's expression lit up, and he looked so handsome at that moment that Deirdre would have said yes to anything he asked. "I ken it," he said. "Can I trust that if I wait for ye, ye'll be there?"

She took a moment to consider her answer. She had to be honest with him, she knew that—he had saved her life, and so he deserved that much.

"I can't promise," she told him eventually. "I'll do me best to be there, because I want tae see ye, I truly do. But I can't swear tae ye that me sisters will let me out of their sight, or even that me own common sense will not return and stop me from such madness."

He laughed at that, then reached out a hand, briefly touching a loose strand of her hair that had come free during the scuffle. He tucked it back behind her ear, and the brief contact was enough to make her shiver. "I understand," he told her. "And so I'll wait for ye. I'll arrive at sundown, and I'll stay until the mornin'. But Deirdre, ken this—if the sun rises again and ye're not there, I'll move on."

"And I'll never see ye again?" she asked breathlessly.

He looked uneasy for a moment, then shrugged. "I can't make promises either, me sweet," he told her with a rueful smile. "I'll wait as long as I can for ye."

Their conversation over, Deirdre returned to Lachlan and the two guards and told him that she was now ready to leave. After Lachlan had exchanged a few further words with Ciaran and given the guards some orders that she couldn't hear, they all set off—Ciaran back toward the market, and Deirdre with her escort back toward the castle.

Nobody spoke. The silence grew oppressive over them, and more than once, Deirdre considered trying to get Lachlan to talk to her. Usually, they were quite close—he was her brother-in-law, after all, and he'd saved her life more than once. But she knew it would be no use. Right now, he was in full duty mode, not interested in anything but getting her home safe. He would not break his shell, not until he'd seen her safely back to her sisters.

She lagged back a bit, and one of the two other guards shot her a sympathetic look. With a start, she realized it was Diarmid, the same who'd been guarding the door earlier. Which meant… yes, when she looked to the other, she recognized Liam. In all the confusion, she'd missed who she was with.

Liam caught her gaze and, after exchanging looks with Diarmid, moved a little closer to her side. Diarmid, meanwhile, moved closer to Lachlan, and Deirdre realized with grateful surprise that he was providing a little distraction so that Deirdre could speak without worry.

"Are ye all right?" Liam asked in an undertone. "Ye look shaken."

Deirdre shrugged helplessly. "I behaved foolishly, I ken it. Are me sisters furious?"

Liam hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, then said, "Well, Aoife saw ye leave the castle hours ago," he admitted. "But she asked that we wait before comin' after ye. She thought, maybe, ye'd come back quickly before any harm could be done, and there'd be no need tae alert yer older sisters."

Surprise flitted through Deirdre at that. Had Aoife been…trying to protect her? Surely not.

"But hours passed, and then Gracie and Maggie came back with the bairns and announced ye were wanderin' alone," Liam continued. "Yer older sisters wanted a whole party of us sent tae retrieve ye, until Lachlan convinced them he'd be better served takin' a few of us and comin' himself."

Deirdre considered this for a moment. She was glad that they hadn't sent twenty men to get her back, but on the other hand, she had little hope that Lachlan's appeasement had done anything to soothe her sisters' anger. Not only that, but she could already tell by the hunch of her shoulders and the cold duty he was performing that Lachlan was angry at her as well. She could only imagine how James would react—not only as her brother-in-law, but as the Laird of the castle she'd escaped from yet again.

She sighed, low and long. "I'm doomed, aren't I?"

Liam gave her a pitying smile. "If I may speak a bit out of turn?" he asked.

She nodded for him to go on.

"Yer sisters love ye. Aye, they're angry, and ye're goin' tae have tae endure it whether ye like it or not—but don't assume it's because they're tryin' tae hurt ye. They just want ye tae be safe."

Deirdre nodded, but her stomach clenched. "I ken that," she told him. "But a gilded cage still traps a bird as much as a steel one. I envy yer freedom."

He raised an eyebrow. "Mine?"

"Aye. As a man, and as a common man at that, ye have the kind of freedom I could never dream of. Ye may go where ye like, work for whom ye like, love whomever ye wish…"

Liam's smile tightened into something a little sadder at that. She saw his gaze travel to the rapidly approaching castle and instantly regretted her last words. She knew of whom he was thinking now. "Love is a fickle thing, me lady," he told her after a moment. "As is freedom. They're never as straightforward as ye might expect."

Deirdre almost laughed. Yes, that she could agree on. But then again, after today…she wasn't sure she knew what to expect of anything.