Page 19 of Promised to the Forbidden Laird

“Aye.”

“Dun Ard hasnae proved particularly gifted at keeping me safe today,” she continued. “At least upon the path I shall have the benefit of kenning where danger lies.”

“And if there are men waiting?”

“Then it is fortunate I shallnae be alone.”

He regarded her in silence. Donaldina lifted her cloak from the chair.

“Ye may spend the remaining light arguing,” she said, fastening it at her throat, “or use it tae conduct yer inspection.”

His expression suggested he was realizing that royal decrees were just the easier part of claiming a MacNicol bride. He opened the door.

“Remain on the inner side of the path.”

“I ken where the cliff is.”

“I begin tae believe ye regard it as a challenge.”

Donaldina passed him into the corridor. “Only when men presume tae instruct me upon it.”

They left Dun Ard by the lesser western gate. The storm moved farther out to sea, leaving the air sharp and scrubbed clean. Clouds stretched low across the horizon, their undersides stained violet by the dying sun. Below the cliffs, the water rolled darkly against the rocks, each wave edged in fading silver. The path glistened beneath their feet.

Roy walked between Donaldina and the drop. He did so without remark, adjusting his stride whenever the trail narrowed so that she remained nearest the wall. Donaldina noticed after several minutes and pretended not to. She suspected he would deny the consideration if thanked for it, calling it strategy or simple sense.

They reached the place where Cormac had held the knife against her throat. Donaldina knew it before Roy stopped. One of the stones remained streaked with blood, diluted by rain to the color of rust. The sight drew the cold memory of iron beneath her jaw, Cormac’s breath at her ear and empty air beneath her slipping heel.

Her body remembered faster than her mind. She halted.

Roy turned immediately. “What is it?”

“Naething.”

He followed her gaze to the stained stone. His face altered very little. Only his stillness deepened.

Donaldina moved past him before either of them could speak. “Cormac had horses waiting beyond the ridge.”

Roy joined her. “I saw the tracks.”

“So he planned it before entering the hall.”

“Aye.”

“He stood before Lachlan’s body kenning what he meant tae dae.”

Roy said nothing. There was no comfort he could offer without insulting the size of what had been betrayed. Donaldina found herself grateful that he did not attempt it.

They climbed toward the higher bend where the rocks shielded the trail from Dun Ard. The wind moved through the heather with a dry whisper. Somewhere below, a gull cried once and was answered only by the sea.

Roy crouched beside a patch of soft earth.

“Three horses,” he concluded. “One shod poorly on the left rear hoof.”

“Can ye learn all that from mud?”

“Men tell lies. Tracks rarely trouble themselves.”

Donaldina watched him study the ground. In war, she imagined, such knowledge determined whether a man reached shelter or found an enemy’s blade waiting beyond it.