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“Alisdair,” Duncan pressed.

Finally, Alisdair looked up.

Duncan was standing in front of him, breathing deeply, sweaty and muddy. “It’s over. Now ye can ride back to yer wife,” he teased. “Ye’ve been itchin’ to go back to her ever since we left.”

Alisdair shot him a warning look. Yet he could not help admiring his ability to never lose his humor even amid blood and muck.

“Ye can play the wounded hero,” Duncan added, gesturing to his wound. “I bet she will take good care of ye.”

Alisdair shook his head and turned to call for his horse. His lips curled into a soft smile. Duncan was not wrong. Alisdair couldn’t wait to ride back to Isla—to hold her, feel her, protect her.

Treun galloped to him, and he swung himself up into the saddle. Duncan did the same, and some of the men followed.

“Back to the castle!” Alisdair ordered.

CHAPTER TWENTY

EMPTY CASTLE

After Alisdair left, Isla could not sit idle in his room, or else she would go crazy from worry. So she decided to join the women spinning wool. The task was grueling and tiresome, and yet it did nothing to numb the worry growing inside her.

How unfair it was for both her and Alisdair to have finally found each other, only to be so abruptly separated. All she could do was focus on the burn of wool on her fingers and cling to the hope that he was safe and would come back to her soon.

“Me Lady.” Gavin entered the well-lit room where the women were spinning and sewing.

Isla took one look at the worry on his face, and her heart sank. She knew at once that he had brought bad news. The spindle slipped from her fingers and hit the floor.

Alisdair!

She wanted to cry. She wanted to rush to him, grip his shirt, and demand answers. But she was still Lady MacLeod, so she slowly rose from her seat and motioned for him to follow her out of the room.

“Me Lady,” he said, once they were in the empty corridor. “I am sorry to trouble ye.”

“What is the matter?” she asked, her fingers curling into her skirts.

“One of the men who escorted Lady Moira to the villages came back.”

Isla’s body relaxed slightly. Lady Moira had left earlier that day for one of the eastern villages, taking the chance to travel while Ewan rode out to deliver remedies and supplies. Perhaps she just needed more supplies, especially the herbs Isla had prepared.

“He reported that Lady Moira had twisted her ankle.”

“What?” she gasped.

She loved Lady Moira like family. She didn’t even want to think of her in pain.

“How is she?” she asked. “Did ye call the healer?”

“I have ordered for a healer to be fetched, but Lady Moira wants ye by her side.”

Isla smiled. With both her nephews gone on their own missions, Lady Moira had asked for the next of kin. Isla was her kin now. The aunt she had never had became more like a mother to her. Lady Moira seemed to gather lost, orphaned souls to her by simply being who she was.

“Of course I will go to her,” she said. “She shouldnae be alone in a time like this. I’m going to grab some tonics for the pain and swelling before we leave.”

“I will escort ye, me Lady.”

“Ye cannae leave the castle at a time like this.”

“It is more than a half-day’s ride away, and I cannae leave ye alone,” Gavin insisted. “Times are treacherous, me Lady, and the Laird would have me head if anythin’ happened to ye.”