As day turned to gloaming, they were welcomed home properly with a massive feast in their honor. MacDougalls traveled from every corner of their holdings to welcome their new chief home. To praise him for choosing to save the Bruce. For surviving his torment. For upholding the dreams of the Scottish people to be free. He was their hero. Their country’s hero.

Men pledged their loyalty, their swords, and Tierney’s heart swelled with the wide show of support.

It melted all the more when he glanced to his left, to see his wife smiling beside him. The men had not only come to pledge their loyalty to him, but to her as well. Their wives and children brought gifts for their lady. Flowers, eggs, strips of fabric, and one darling little puppy that she’d already named Blaze since he’d tried to fight with a fiery log in the hearth. Their eyes had met, sharing the secret of her own fiery past.

They feasted, and drank ale, and when the music started and the tables were shoved to the side for dancing, Rosamond leapt to her feet and grabbed hold of his hand.

“I love to dance, Tier, teach me this one.”

A Scottish reel had begun, the men and women were kicking up their heels and circling about.

“All right.” He took her by the hand and led her onto the dance floor. “But I warn ye, sweetling, it’s been a while since I danced.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together.”

She picked up the moves very easily, perhaps even more easily than him, lifting the hem of her gown to kick her feet and twirl. She had grace and rhythm. A Scottish reel was no easy dance. The men and women of the clan seemed to adore her. When she swung back into his arms, her smile bright, her eyes sparkling, she looked up into his eyes and said, “I love you.”

The words struck him, as hard as an arrow to the chest. ’Twas the first time she’d said them, and he felt it all the way to his core. His heart constricted, filling up painfully with emotion. And an ache, a longing, intense and powerful filled him. On the morrow, he’d leave to complete his mission. And complete it, he would. There was no other choice but to come back to her.

“I love ye, too.” The words were soft, but as soon as he said them, that feeling in his chest increased, and he said them, louder. “I love ye.”

Rosamond threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Lifting up on her tiptoes, she gave him a brief kiss that made him want to sweep her up for something deeper, neither one of them caring that the great hall had erupted into shouts of enthusiasm and encouragement. “And I know what I feel is the truth in my heart. I love you, husband, and not because of the legend of the cave.”

Tierney frowned. “Legend of the cave?”

She tugged him back toward their chairs, each of them were handed goblets of wine on the way, and regaled him with the story the healer had told her on the ship. “Do you believe it?” she asked.

“Nay. I dinna believe in magic. I love ye because ye’re full of fire, and not afraid to show it. Because ye’re beautiful and kind and clever. Because ye make me laugh, and because when I was afraid I wouldna be accepted, ye had no doubt.”

“And I was right, was I not?” She winked.

He leaned over, caressed her cheek. “Aye, love, ye were.”

Tierney kissed her then, not worrying about the crowd or who would lay witness to their passion. She was his wife, and legend or no, she was his one true love.

When Tierney woke to rain, he wasn’t surprised.

But he also wasn’t disappointed.

Rain was a symbol of life renewal. And he oft had thought of it as a good omen from the heavens that he was headed in the right direction.

So, was it not a blessing that today, when he would take his men on the long journey to Stirling, where a seemingly impossible task stood before them, that the sky should be pummeling them with its essence?

A low rumble of thunder sounded and lightning streaked white and jagged across the sky. Tierney glanced back toward the bed where his wife lay sleeping, expecting to see her awakened from the loud boom. But, Rosamond murmured and rolled over, the blankets shifting to reveal a creamy calf, and the slender delicate length of her toes. Lord but she was beautiful, and he was loath to leave her behind.

If it were void of danger, and if he wasn’t going into battle, he would take her with him.

In his hand, he held the brooch he’d given her as his promise. She’d set it on the bedside table before they’d gone to bed and told him to take it with him for good luck and to return it to his king should he encounter him. But, Tierney wasn’t going to take it with him. The brooch had been a gift to her, and he wanted her to do with it as she liked—not including giving it back.

Approaching the bed, he placed the brooch back on the side table, leaned down and kissed her, stroking the hair away from her face. She shifted, murmuring something unintelligible, then rolled onto her belly. She was a good woman with a big heart, who showed a gentleness about her with his people, and an enthusiasm in the bedchamber that made his heart skip a beat.

And he had to leave her behind.

Tierney hadn’t the heart to wake her and tell her he was leaving. He didn’t want her to see him off, standing on the stairs and waving as he rode through the gates with his men. Didn’t want to think about her worrying over him.

But mostly, he didn’t want to worry over her either. Didn’t want to see the fear in her eyes, the worry that he might not return.

Because he might not.

There was always that chance in war. And though she knew his mission was dangerous, he’d not let on to her just how dangerous it actually was.

Regrettably, he left the comfort of their chamber, his old bedroom. Instead of taking up residence in his father’s chamber, he’d had the grand and ornately carved master of the castle’s four-poster bed moved to his own chamber.

Captain MacArthur had tried insisting that Tierney take the master’s chamber where the captain had been sleeping, but Tierney adamantly denied him. The man seemed determined that Tierney should be successful, and for some reason the chamber seemed that important to him, but he understood when Tierney said he’d not be able to sleep in the same place his traitorous father had cooked up his scheme to betray their king. After hearing that, MacArthur had removed himself from the chamber as well, taking up a room in another tower, in order to give Tierney and Rosamond more privacy.

To say Tierney was thankful for the captain’s support would be an understatement. In the span of a day, everyone within the castle appeared to have given him their allegiance. MacArthur was already willing to give him back the keys to the castle, but it was MacDonald and the king who would ultimately have the final say.

But he knew it couldn’t be so easy, for what he’d learned was that often the good things in life came with a heavy price. Then again, perhaps he’d already paid that heavy price with his time in England.

The men were already gathered in the courtyard. Samuel de Mowbray, the MacDougalls from the ship, and many others that had come for the feast the night before. MacArthur nodded at him.

“Strength, my laird,” Captain MacArthur said.

“Buaidh No Bas,” Tierney replied. “Victory or death.”

The men raised their fists in the air and shouted the clan’s motto, then gained their mounts and rode out through the gate without looking back.

Five score men riding fully armored was going to be hard to keep quiet, but they would do their best. That was what they were trained for.

And if anything, Tierney was good at keeping himself alive.