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loyal to your chief.”
    They arrived at her cell door, which had been left open. An armed clansman stood guard. Candles still burned inside, but Logan, the gentler one, was gone.
    Darach nudged her through the doorway. “I’ll be back to collect you in one hour,” he said. “I suggest you try and get some rest because the moon is full. We’ll be traveling until midnight at least.”
    “Will you give me back my own horse?” she asked, thinking of Rupert and feeling a rush of panic as Darach moved to close the door.
    “Aye, you can have him.” He began to back out.
    Feeling suddenly apprehensive and not wanting to be left alone, Larena took a quick step forward. “And you’re certain that Logan will come with us?”
    Darach paused with his hand on the latch. “Why do you ask that?”
    “Because…” she paused. “He was kind to me. And you have been… less than kind.”
    Darach regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Logan has that way about him, especially when it comes to lassies in distress, but don’t expect him to be your nursemaid.”
    “I won’t. I’m only glad it won’t be just the two of us.”
    Darach inclined his head and grinned at her with devious amusement. “Ah…I see now. You’re afraid to be alone with me.”
    Her sense of pride reared up violently. “I most certainly am not. Why would I be?”
    “Because maybe you don’t trust yourself to resist the powers of my overwhelming masculine appeal.”
    Larena let out a laugh. “Hah! Go ahead and imagine that, Darach, if it makes you feel pleased with yourself.”
    “It does indeed.” He began to close the door. “Now sit tight lass. I’ll be back to fetch you in a wee bit.”
    With that, he slammed the heavy oaken door and lowered the bar with a deafening clang that made her jump inside her skin.
    Then, quite unexpectedly, the bar lifted again and the door opened a crack. He peered in at her with a teasing smirk.
    “Don’t feel guilty, lass. It’s not a crime to find another man attractive when you’re betrothed to one you barely know.”
    Before she had a chance to reply and put him in his proper place, the door slammed shut again, and she found herself lunging for the pillow to pitch it at the door.

Chapter Seven

    By the time they left the castle and crossed the drawbridge to the meadow beyond, the full moon was on the rise. Crickets chirped noisily in the grasses while a gentle breeze whispered through the treetops in the forest, just ahead. The sound of Rupert’s hooves plodding over the ground was strangely comforting to Larena after her separation from him earlier that day. She was relieved to be out of the damp prison cell and on her way home, at last.
    There were still many miles to cross, however, with these two MacDonald clansmen as escorts. She hoped they would prove to be good men and worthy of their laird’s trust. She also hoped Angus the Lion was worthy of her trust, for these were uncertain times. Pray God he had not given orders to destroy her father’s pardon—or worse, slit her throat—as soon as they crossed onto Campbell lands, for what did the Lion have to gain from the survival of her father, chief of an enemy clan? Wouldn’t he gain some personal satisfaction if the Campbell stronghold fell to the English?
    Either way, she could not stop to question any of that now. She had to believe she was on her way home, and if she kept her wits about her, she would arrive in one piece, in time to save her father’s life.
    * * *
    It was midnight when they finally stopped to set up camp on the banks of Loch Loyne. Stubbornly, Larena had wanted to continue on, but the horses needed rest and water. Besides that, she was hardly in top condition herself, having been shot in the head that very morning by rebel Highlanders.
    Well…perhaps “shot in the head” was an exaggeration. The musket ball had merely grazed her scalp, but it had been enough to cause a significant loss of blood. It was the fall shortly thereafter