Their wedding night had been everything Josephine had hoped it would be. Graeme was tender and thoughtful. As well as ravenous and passionate.

They made love three times before finally succumbing to exhaustion just before dawn. It had been everything her mother-in-law had promised it would be. Sweet, passionate, exciting, and aye, Graeme pleased her more than once. She was left with no doubt that he knew exactly what he was doing.

She fell asleep with his arms wrapped protectively and lovingly around her waist, her body pressed against his. Warmth emanated from his body to hers negating the need for the fire that burned low in their hearth.

They spent the first few days of married life, hidden away in their bedchamber, away from the rest of the world. Oblivious to anything taking place outside that barred door.

Eventually, it became easier for Graeme to speak the words in his heart without tripping over his own tongue. Especially when they were in their bed. Why ’twas easier for him to say such sweet words while he was caressing her or in between tender kisses, Josephine neither knew nor cared.

Wrapped in the cocoon of contentment and big, safe arms, she dreamt for the first time in an age. They were older, wiser, and still very much in love, and surrounded by their many children. But something sad hung over her heart, like a thin veil of mist that she could not grasp in her hands no matter how hard she tried. It was there, just within reach, or without, lingering, begging to be seen.

Before she could make any sense of what exactly lay in that foggy mist, they were both roused from their sleep by a great pounding on their bedchamber door.

Graeme was wide awake, alert, and shooting to his feet while she was still trying to wipe the cobwebs from her mind.

“Graeme!” ’Twas Connor shouting from the other side of the door as he pounded his fist against it.

The urgency and desperation in his tone shook what remnants of sleep remained from her mind. Graeme was wrapping a plaid around his waist as he opened the door.

Connor and Bruce came rushing into the room. From their pained and frustrated expressions, Josephine knew something horrible had happened.

“What be wrong?” Graeme asked as he searched for his boots.

Connor and Bruce cast anxious glances at one another before Connor answered. “Mayhap we should speak alone?” He cast a wary and brief glance at Josephine.

Drawing the blankets up, she sat ramrod straight as fear traced up and down her spine. Her mind raced to the only logical place it could: her brother. “’Tis Helmert,” she murmured.

Connor and Bruce shook their heads. “Aye,” Connor answered. “And his friends.”

As Graeme scrambled to dress, Josephine’s confusion grew. “What has he done?”

Another glance passed between brothers.

“Ye best get on with the tellin’ fer she is certain to find out sooner or later,” Graeme said as he tucked his trews into his boots.

“Elise and Laurin were out swimmin’,” Bruce began.

“Laurin cannot swim,” Josephine told them. “She’s terrified of the water.”

“Aye, we ken that. Elise was teachin’ her to swim. They were just preparing to head back to the keep when Helmert and his men came out of the woods.”

Josephine felt her blood turn cold. She stood speechless as she waited as patiently as she could for Bruce to explain what had happened.

“They took Laurin. They want the Gladius.”

Graeme and Josephine stared at him, bewildered. “They have Laurin?” Josephine whispered.

“Aye, but Elise is well,” he said.

“After Elise and Laurin were gone too long for Albert’s likin’, he went in search of them. That’s when he came upon Elise at the loch. The one named Darvord was with her.”

“Please tell me he did not hurt her!” Josephine exclaimed.

“Nay, he did no’ have the time. When Albert found out what had happened, he killed Darvord where he stood.”

Josephine slipped into her robe, slid from the bed and came to stand next to her husband. “I cannot say I am sorry to hear that.”

“Neither am I,” Graeme said. “But we will get her back, Joie, I swear it.”

Numb and dizzy all at once, she nearly fell to her knees. She knew what Helmert and Clarence were capable of.

Before she could utter another word, Albert’s voice boomed from the hallway. “I will kill him. If he has so much as hurt one hair on her head, I will kill him.”

Albert stood with his hands on his hips, in full battle gear. Chain mail, helm, sword and dirks. The half helm did not cover his face entirely. And it could do nothing to mask his fury. Purple with rage, his eyes afire with barely controlled rage, he stood with his shoulders back and a fierce glare that warned he meant every word he spoke.

“Albert, I be so sorry,” she told him. “I do no’ ken how he came to know about the sword or why he wants it.”

“Joie,” Albert said as he took one step forward. “I do no’ give one bloody wit about the Gladius. Ye are me sister now and I would never do a thing to bring you any pain. But Laurin? I love her with all me heart.”

He needn’t say more. The pain, the anguish, blended with fury, were clearly evident.

“I will not ask you to show any of them any mercy,” she told him.“Laurin is the sister of my heart. Please,” she choked on her words. “Bring her home.”