Chapter Eight

As they hurried towards the great hall, Keiran cursed himself for a fool. He should have told Rosalyn about Lieutenant James Long’s plans to end her life rather than to marry her. But Keiran had not wanted to ruin that shared moment of joy between himself and Rosalyn. He clenched his jaw and increased his speed, forcing Rosalyn to keep up. Now two men were after her, no doubt wanting to finish what they had started. She had to know the truth, and he should be the one to tell her.

Keiran stopped abruptly, causing Rosalyn to crash into him. He gripped her arms to keep her from falling, and for a heartbeat allowed himself to enjoy the softness of the feminine body pressed so intimately against his own. A hint of lemon and rosemary filled his senses. Instead of releasing her, Keiran held her close, drawing in her scent. He was used to fairies smelling like flowers, not this sweet yet earthy combination.

“What is it?” Rosalyn asked, her eyes wide.

His mother had stopped as well, hovering behind Rosalyn. Setting her away from him, Keiran released Rosalyn’s arms. “I should have told you this earlier, but I simply must tell you now, before we meet with the others.”

“You need not hide things from me.” She steeled herself. “I have suffered enough hurt and rejection at my brother’s hand. I’ve learned to be strong as a result.”

He did not doubt that. It was better he simply stated the fact than try to soften the blow. “The soldier we captured revealed that your betrothed was behind the attack on your life. He meant to kill you, not marry you. He may try to continue what he started by sending the two men foretold by my mother.” His gaze probed Rosalyn’s.

She looked away, but not before he saw her features tighten with pain. “It matters not. With your help I escaped that fate. As far as I am concerned, I died yesterday, and was born anew, therefore releasing Lieutenant James Long from any obligation.”

“Will he see things the same way?” Keiran asked.

She glanced back at him. “He will once I write and inform him thusly.”

“And your brother?”

“He wanted only to be rid of me. I don’t think he cared how he accomplished that goal.” She stiffened and turned away, as though afraid to look at him.

Keiran studied her downcast face. She was hanging on to her self-control by a thread, trying so hard to be invincible. But he could see past her fa?ade. The scared, lonely woman standing before him tore at his heart. He recalled his own loneliness in Fairyland when he’d been aged enough to register such an emotion. He remembered those first lonely nights, staring into the darkness, wondering what was to become of him. Aye, he understood her fear, but he also applauded her bravery. It took great courage to remain in the house of her enemy and act as though nothing he said could break her.

An almost aching tenderness unfolded within him. He wanted to reach out to her, to reassure her with a gentle touch that she was not as alone as she imagined. “Rosalyn?” Her name, spoken so gently, hung between them. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his. In her eyes, he saw a faint, hesitant stirring of hope. “Those men will never get close to you. I will make certain of that.”

“Why would you protect me when my own people will not?” The morning light illuminated her pale skin, accentuating her freckles and the lines of worry bracketing her mouth.

Her question caught him off guard. He had learned in Fairyland that even taken away from his clan, the essence of who he was had remained. He was a protector of all living things, even this female—even his enemy. “I need you to remain here, and alive, if you are to be my tutor.”

“Of course. Good tutors are difficult to come by, even in England. I can understand going out of your way to keep me safe. It would be such a nuisance to have to replace me.”

The sting of sarcasm was not lost on him. His lips quirked, as did her own briefly before slowly fading until pain once again darkened her hazel eyes. She stood so close to him, and yet she remained somehow separate. Alone and untouchable. Yet in the moment, he finally understood. She was used to the world attacking her, catching her unprepared, betraying her at every turn. She expected him to betray her as well. After all, in her mind, he was her enemy.

Keiran stepped forward, and reached for her hand, wrapping her cold fingers with his own warmer ones. “I do appreciate that you have agreed to tutor me, but your presence here at Dunvegan is not just one of convenience. I want you here. I like having you here because... I do not have many friends in this world, and I would like it very much if you would be that for me. A friend.”

Her eyes widened. “You want to be friends? With me, an Englishwoman?”

“Since your mother was also of Scottish blood, then that makes you not fully English. And since I was born a Scot but raised elsewhere, that makes me not fully Scottish.” He shrugged. “I suspect we have as good a chance as any at friendship.”

Her brows came together but a lightness entered her eyes. “If we are to be friends, then you must be honest with me in all things.”

He nodded. “I will hold nothing back no matter how desperate the situation.”

She paused, thinking, then nodded. “What do I have to lose? My only family has washed his hands of me. My once betrothed tried to kill me. I have no future unless I can find employment as a tutor. I suppose being friends with you cannot make things any worse, now, could it?”

“I do not suppose it could.” He gave her hand a light squeeze, then released her fingers, and instead offered her his arm. “Shall we go tell my brother what Mother has sensed?”

At the reminder that Lady Janet was behind them, they both turned towards the spirit. Instead of the distress that had darkened her features, a smile lit her face. I am glad you two found common ground. A bond forged when enemies become friends is stronger than any other.

They were never truly enemies, were they? Keiran pondered as he led Rosalyn and his mother inside the castle, and up the stairs. Both male and female voices came to them as they moved down the hallway and entered the great hall. The entire family was gathered as they had just finished breaking their morning fast.

At the sight of all the MacLeods, Rosalyn pulled away from Keiran and clutched her hands before her. He understood. She was ready to think of him differently, but the rest of his clan still had to prove themselves.

“Come, join us,” Gwendolyn said, motioning them towards the table where she and Alastair sat with Tormod, Orrick, Graeme, Fiona, Isolde, and Aria.

Keiran waited until Rosalyn was seated next to Isolde before he took a seat next to Orrick. Lady Janet followed more slowly as she took a moment to hug each of her children, as that ability had been restored to her thanks to Aria’s residual magic.

Gwendolyn scooped helpings of oatmeal porridge into two bowls and passed them down to Rosalyn and Keiran. The cream followed.

Keiran dressed his oats and scooped them up quickly. Even so, he savoured the sweetness of the cream and the nutty flavour of the oats. Rosalyn brought the spoon to her lips, tasting the porridge tentatively.

Keiran frowned. “Have you never had oats before?”

She shook her head. “My breakfast usually consisted of toast and jam with a spot of tea.”

“Eat the oats,” Orrick advised. “You’ll need something more substantial to keep you warm as the springtime air holds a chill here in Scotland.”

At Keiran’s nod, she took another bite. “They are quite tasty.”

Gwendolyn smiled. “Break your fast, then Alastair is planning to take you, Keiran, to Knock Castle to start your training as our estate manager. The castle is turning into a ruin, but perhaps some attention from you can salvage it for the next generation of MacLeods.”

“We cannot,” Keiran replied. “There is something more urgent that must be attended to.”

Alastair pushed his bowl of porridge aside. “Of what do you speak?”

“Mother warned me that two Englishmen are near Dunvegan. They seek Rosalyn.”

Alastair tossed a look at his brothers. “Then it is up to us to find them first.” Alastair, Tormod, Orrick, and Graeme stood but Keiran waved them back to their seats.

“There is more,” he said, his fingers tightening on his spoon. “I fear it is only a matter of time before Oberon returns to challenge us.”

Tormod frowned and leaned forward. “How could you know this?”

“Mother felt his presence.”

The colour drained from Aria’s already pale face. “I felt that, too, but did not want to believe it was true.”

“How can this be?” Gwendolyn asked. “You destroyed him.”

“Fairy magic destroyed his body but now we know it did not destroy his essence. It would take time for him to regenerate.”

“How long?” Alastair asked.

Aria shrugged. “It depends on the resources available to him. A few days, weeks, months. We cannot be certain.”

Alastair’s lips set in a grim line. “Then we had best take care of the Englishmen quickly so we can turn our attention to Oberon.”

Gwendolyn left her seat and moved to a chest of drawers against the wall. Opening a drawer, she withdrew something before returning to the table where she held out an iron bracelet to Rosalyn. “Take this and wear it always. It will protect you from fairy magic.”

Rosalyn accepted the gift with a frown. “Is this necessary? How much power can one fairy possess?”

“Aye, you must wear the bracelet.” Keiran took it from her and secured it around her right wrist before pulling back his sleeve to reveal his own band clamped tight around his wrist. “We all wear them because the last time we went up against Oberon, he almost took the lives of all the MacLeods and everyone living within these castle walls.”

Rosalyn’s other hand came up to wrap around the simple iron adornment. “This will stop him from touching anyone not fae?”

“It will not stop him, but it will help minimise the control he will have over you. It will protect you from a personal assault from anyone else in the fairy realm who is not as strong as Oberon,” Keiran assured her, though his words did not ease the concern that tightened her features. He didn’t blame her. The fairy realm was difficult for most humans to understand if they had not had interactions with those beings. The two men who his mother claimed were after her were no doubt a more urgent threat. Turning to Alastair he said, “We should assemble a search party and find the Englishmen while the information we attained from the Nicolson clan about where the English were stationed is still valid.”

“My thought exactly. Tormod, Orrick, Graeme, Aria? Would you like to join Keiran and myself?”

Tormod nodded.

“Aria and I should hold back and keep watch over the castle’s defences,” Orrick said as he and Aria stood.

“Very well,” Alastair agreed. “We do not know what we are up against yet.”

Gwendolyn rose and came to stand beside Rosalyn. “I will watch over Rosalyn,” she said with a smile. “Besides, our seamstress has discovered a few lengths of fabric in a chest. I asked her to measure you for two new gowns.”

Rosalyn turned to look at Gwendolyn. “You have been more than generous with the gowns I received last night. I could not possibly impose.”

“’Tis not an imposition,” Gwendolyn assured her. “We have plenty to share.” Her gaze moved past Rosalyn to the other women seated at the table before returning to Rosalyn.

At the determined look on Gwendolyn’s face, Rosalyn finally nodded, stood, then quietly followed Gwendolyn from the hall. The other women followed.

A wave of relief swept through Keiran that Rosalyn would remain safely behind the stone walls of Dunvegan while he and his brothers searched for the Englishmen who threatened her. “When do we leave?” Keiran asked, straightening, and searching the other men’s faces.

As the men stood, and Alastair moved off to gather warriors to assist them on the quest, Keiran stared at the doorway through which Gwendolyn and Rosalyn had vanished. He marvelled at the changes in Rosalyn since yesterday, when she had been like a frightened, injured, and angry kitten. Today, she held her head high, despite the fact she was surrounded by strangers. And when his mother had proclaimed she was the target of the Englishmen’s hunt, she had not shown fear.

“Which direction shall we head?” Graeme asked, interrupting Keiran’s thoughts. “You said you were the strategist for Oberon in Fairyland. Perhaps your skills can help us figure out how to proceed without having to divide ourselves into two groups.”

“If the men are coming from the same area where Rosalyn was attacked near Struan, then we should head to the north-east. Unless they have a boat, they will be forced to go around Loch Caroy.”

“And if they have a boat?” Tormod asked with a frown.

“The likelihood of that is very low, but if they do, then we will be heading in the wrong direction.”

“I say we split up and cover both,” Tormod challenged.

Keiran should have expected such a response from Tormod. His brother did not like to fail, would do anything to avoid it, in fact. “I am told Mother’s premonitions are not always accurate. She saw two men, but perhaps there are more. Why weaken our defences by dividing our numbers?”

“I agree with Keiran,” Alastair said, coming to join them. “We stay together. If we are to face an entire regiment of men, then we will need all of us to defend ourselves. And we will all need Keiran if something should go wrong.”

At Keiran’s puzzled expression, Alastair added, “Your powers of healing give us an edge we have never had before. ’Tis a gift we shall protect and cherish.”

Alastair signalled for the men to mount, and as they headed towards the open gates, he brought his horse alongside Keiran’s. “It only now occurred to me, but when you heal someone, is there a cost to yourself?”

Keiran nodded. “I grow weak, and depending on the severity of the wound, sometimes it takes a while for my strength to return.”

“That is good to know. If we are forced to use your healing, we will protect you while you recover,” Alastair said, increasing the pace as he guided the men to the north-east.

Keiran increased his speed to stay with Alastair. “You realise I have never tested my abilities on more than a few broken bones and gashes from swords. I truly have no idea of the extent of my abilities or the long-term effects on my person.”

“I understand, Keiran. But a chance at life after a deadly battle is better than no chance at all. Judging by the blood on Rosalyn’s gown, her injury was substantial. You brought her back from the edge of death. I hope you would do the same for one of your brothers.”

“Of course, but isn’t it better to avoid a bloody conflict than to test my abilities? Besides, Orrick led me to believe you were the one who wanted to negotiate peace instead of fight. What has changed?”

“I was able to keep the peace between the clans and the Scottish government, which is always trying to exert more control over the clans. But the English are an entirely different enemy. They outnumber us, they have resources that we do not, and they are growing less tolerant of our way of life here in the Highlands. To the English, those who support the Hanoverians are good, and those who still support the Stuarts are evil,” Alastair said. “The day is coming when we MacLeods will have to choose a side and take a stand against those who oppose us.”

Politics was not something Keiran knew much about, having been raised in Fairyland. Though, in the last few weeks he had heard his brothers talking about the Jacobite cause and the threat of invasion from England. Keiran frowned as he stared into the distance. He had not realised, until that moment, the weight Alastair carried as laird. Not only was he responsible for managing his estates, which included collecting rents, maintaining roads and bridges, and providing food and shelter for his tenants, he also had to balance his relationship with the Scottish government and the other clan lairds. All while trying to keep his people safe from the constant threat of English invasion. And now they faced the added threat of what Oberon would do to them all once he emerged.

No wonder Alastair was so keen on the idea that Keiran could heal his people if injured. It gave him one less worry. “I will gladly help where I am able,” Keiran replied. “With healing and with your estates.”

“Thank you, Keiran.” Alastair smiled at his brother before turning his gaze back to the path ahead.

Keiran narrowed his gaze on the landscape as they passed, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Discovering and detaining the Englishmen who threatened Rosalyn was urgent. Only then would they get back to finding a means to rid themselves of Oberon before the fairy king regained his powers. An English invasion would not matter to the MacLeods if Oberon destroyed them all first.