Hannah sat at the table in the Great Hall alone, lost in thought, her morning meal growing cold. She could not forget the way her husband had kissed her last night or his words.

Never frighten me like that again.

If she had frightened him by what she had done, then he had to care at least a little for her. Did he not? And the way he had kissed her, as if he could not get enough of her, had to have meant something. She had felt it herself. His kiss had awakened and stirred something inside her that continued to stir her whenever she thought about him. She wanted him to kiss her again, though if she was truthful she would admit she wanted more from him than just a kiss.

They were wed and their vows needed to be sealed and her curiosity satisfied. If coupling with him would be anything like the kiss, then she would be overjoyed. She would rather look forward to welcoming her husband to her bed than dreading his every visit.

“Your food grows cold… eat.”

Hannah looked up so startled by her husband’s presence that a tingle raced through her. Or was it that he looked so handsome and his lips so inviting? She stopped herself from shaking her head at the thought and said, “How do you know it grows cold?”

“I have been standing here watching you for some time now.”

“Why?”

“Do you always question?”

“What other way am I to find the answer?”

Helice entered then and stopped, as startled as Hannah to see Slain there and though she knew he had already eaten, she asked. “My chief, may I get you something?”

“A hot brew for me and,” —he walked over to the table and snatched up Hannah’s bowl of porridge— “a fresh, hot bowl of porridge for my wife.”

Helice hurried to take it from him.

Hannah and Helice could not hide their shock when Slain slipped onto the bench opposite Hannah, though Helice quickly recovered and hurried from the room.

“What are your plans today, wife?” Slain asked.

Hannah stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, then said, “I was going to go to the village to see if a couple of women would help here at the keep.” She did not add that she also wanted the clan to see that her husband had not harmed her, since they had all stared at him last night when he had practically dragged her through the village, most appearing as if they feared for her well-being.

“They will be glad to see you are safe,” Slain said and he was surprised when she smiled.

“And glad to know their chief saved me from my own foolish actions.”

That she would make sure his clan knew what she had done to draw the ire of the savage astonished him. But why should it, when she had proven to be an honest woman?

“The clan does not need to know you rescued those women.” He raised his hand when she went to speak, though remained silent as Helice entered the room and spoke again after she placed a tankard, steam rising from the top, in front of him and a bowl that steamed with heat as well in front of Hannah. “Muir did not work alone in his capture of women and men alike who failed to pay their debt. If his partner discovers the two women are free, he could very well send someone to track them down.”

“Then I will make sure to say nothing,” she said, glad he reminded her that Muir had a partner, not that he knew she was aware of it.

“You also will not request help for the keep, you will demand it. It is the clan’s responsibility to serve the chief and his family. They did so gladly with my mother and father and they will do so with their present chief and his new wife.”

Hannah grew excited, thinking perhaps last night had given him a change of heart. “Then I will make sure to have enough servants to tend the Great Hall so it may be open to those who wish to seek a meal or companionship here.”

“No!” he said firmly. “I prefer my privacy.”

Her joy faded. “Do you not get lonely?”

“I have you now.”

“But it cannot just be the two us and what of when children come along? They will need friends.”

Slain stood abruptly. His leg caught the end of the table jostling it and splashing the hot brew over the edge of the tankard. “Do not question me, and,” —he paused with a glare— “I gave you no permission to cut down the thickets.”

“They were far too prickly,” —she smiled— “much like you.”

“You think you can cut the sting out of the savage as easily as you cut away those thickets?”

“We shall see,” she said, her smile remaining strong and determined, even though inside she quaked with uncertainty.

That she even thought she could soothe the savage gave him pause. He, himself, had a difficult time controlling the fierceness within him. What made her think she had any chance in calming him?

“Be careful, wife, a savage has no heart or soul.” With that he left the Great Hall, not having touched his hot brew.

Hannah watched him go, her smile fading. The man who kissed her last night certainly had a heart and soul, which meant the savage had to have both as well.

* * *

Tears sprang to Blair’s eyes when she caught sight of Hannah, though she cautiously asked, “You are well?”

“I am,” Hannah said and offered no more explanation. She knew the clan wondered and gossiped over what had happened last night. Over why they had heard the savage roar. But they would say nothing and either would Hannah.

“I am glad to see you,” Blair said and wiped the few tears from her eyes.

“And I you.”

“What brings you here today?

Slain may have told her to demand not request, but she could not do that. She wanted people who agreed to help, not forced to help. “Help is needed at the keep,”

Blair shook her head. “That is not going to be easy after last—” She bit back her tongue, stopping herself from saying more.

“If there are two women who would agree to help and see that it is not as bad as everyone believes, then perhaps more will follow and the keep can once again be brought to life.” She hoped Blair understood that she was not only speaking about stirring life into the keep, but into Slain as well.

“It is not an easy task to rid—a place—of darkness once it has taken hold.”

Hannah smiled, Blair understanding what she had implied. “Perhaps, but I’m encouraged by a spark of light I have seen.”

Blair’s eyes turned wide. “Many would be pleased to hear that and perhaps help after all.”

“That pleases me greatly,” Hannah said, reaching out and giving Blair’s arm a gentle squeeze.

Blair smiled. “I have some time to give to the keep and I think I can get Kate to help as well as long as she can bring Cara with her, since she has not trusted her sons to watch after the wee lass since last they failed to keep her with them.”

“I think the keep could do with the sound of a child’s joy and innocent laughter.”

Blair patted Hannah’s arm as her smile faded some. “We have prayed for our chief for he has suffered much, lost much, and I believe the heavens have answered us… you were sent to him. You are his salvation.”

Hannah was glad that Kate approached, Cara balanced on her hip, since Blair’s words had struck Hannah silent. She was also glad that Blair explained to Kate what she and Hannah had discussed, for her thoughts turned troubling.

The Clan MacKewan was accepting her as one of them. What would they do when they discovered she was not who they thought she was?

“I can spare some time now,” Kate said.

A joyous smile grabbed hold of Hannah’s face. “That would be wonderful. I started cleaning the Great Hall a few days ago, but have not been able to complete the task.”

“All on your own?” Blair asked and when Hannah nodded, Blair shook her head. “That is too big of a task for one woman.”

“I would be pleased with the help and even more pleased with the company,” Hannah said and the three women and wee bairn walked to the keep.

Helice confronted the three when they entered through the kitchen, ready to dictate orders to the two women, but Hannah stepped forward and took charge as she had seen her mum do countless times.

“You may continue with what you are doing Helice. Blair and Kate will help me in the Great Hall, though, if you like, you are welcome to join us.”

With the two women standing behind her, Hannah did not see how their eyes filled with respect for how the chief’s new wife handled the far too ornery woman. It also surprised them the way Helice acquiesced with a simple nod and not a curt word.

The three women soon were busy in endless chatter as they swept and scrubbed their way through the Great Hall. They were so busy enjoying the task and the companionship that none of them noticed Cara slip out of the room.

She chased the dust motes, believing them fairies, reaching out with her tiny hands trying to catch at least one to have as a friend.

* * *

Slain sat at his desk working on one of the sketches, though his mind was not on it. Hannah had taken over his thoughts and would not leave them, and it had worsened since last night when he had kissed her.

He had been beside himself when he had gone to her room, why he had not been certain, to find it empty. His first thought had been that she had run away, but he had soon dismissed it. She looked for protection. She would not leave what she had found.

So the question had been, where had she gone?

That was when he had thought of what she had shared with him about suffering at the hands of a man similar to Muir. He knew then where she had gone… to free the two women.

Anger had taken hold of him at first, but as he ventured through the woods fear had begun to creep over him. What if he was too late to save her from her own foolishness, as he had been too late to save his parents and clan from his father’s foolishness?

When he had heard her scream, the anger that had been boiling up inside him spewed out, but it had been when he had seen Muir on top of Hannah that the savage broke loose. It had not been until he returned with Hannah to the keep and had spoken with her that the savage was soothed, but not entirely. He had wanted to taste pure innocence, or had it been that he wanted to corrupt it as he had been corrupted?

If anything, it had been Hannah’s honest response that had forced the words from his lips.

Do not ever frighten me like that again.

He had not realized how much it meant having Hannah there in the keep with him. The savage seemed to stay at bay with her around. She had been in his life for a little more than a week and she had already changed it. His only fear was that he would change her and not for the better.

Slain tried to turn his attention to the sketches. He owed a debt and the time to pay it was ticking away. His friend would wait only so long. Then there was the debt he owed his da, to revenge what had been done to him and the clan. It had taken time, but he would soon have what he needed to see it done and restore the MacKewan name and honor. But it would be he, himself, who made the man pay for making a fool of his da and almost destroying his clan. He would enjoy letting the savage loose on him.

“I caught a fairy.”

Slain was not only startled that he had failed to hear someone enter his solar, but that it was a wee lass who had done so. She was a pretty little thing, no more than four or five years, with eyes as blue as a summer’s sky and hair as black as raven feathers. She had full cheeks that were flushed pink and she clutched her tiny hand tightly in a fist.

“Want to see?” she asked, though did not care if he did or did not, she intended to show him since she hurried her little legs toward him and once around the desk, stretched her arms out to him. “Up.”

Slain obeyed the little bairn without question, reaching down to scoop her up and sit her on his lap.

“I show you,” she whispered as if it was a secret and pressed her tiny finger to his lips. “Quiet, no scare her.”

Slain nodded, trying not to smile, but she was so adorable, and so serious about the fairy she had caught, that it was difficult not to.

She unfurled her tiny fingers slowly and her eyes turned wide when she saw her palm was empty. “She gone.”

Slain felt a tug at his heart when her bottom lip began to quiver.

“Fairies are sneaky creatures and can slip easily between fingers. You were very lucky to have caught one at all, even if it was only for a few moments,” he said, hoping to ease her disappointment.

She raised her tiny hand to almost shove it in her face and scrunched her eyes as if to make sure the fairy was not hiding somewhere there. She suddenly dropped her hand and looked to the parchments on his desk. “What?” she asked as she leaned forward, pointing at the drawings.

Slain gave a snug tug of his arm at her waist to stop her from toppling off his lap. “Those are drawings.”

“Me do,” she said with a broad smile, her round, chubby cheeks popping high as her smile spread wide.

She was too impossibly cute to deny and he moved them both closer to the desk, giving her a piece of charcoal. It was only then he wondered who she was and how she had gotten into the keep.

* * *

“It is looking much like it did when Slain’s da, William, led the clan. Slain’s mum, Leala, welcomed all who entered here. She was a good woman,” Blair said, sniffling back an unshed tear.

“That she was,” Kate agreed and wiped away a tear before it could fall. “Leala would be proud that her son wed such a kind and caring woman.”

“That she would,” Blair agreed with a smile.

Hannah hoped that whatever she accomplished here would benefit all.

“I think with you in charge of the keep, Hannah, you may very well have some women looking to help here,” Kate said, casting a pleased eye over the Great Hall that now showed not a bit of grime or dust.

Hannah had hoped for just that. “That would be wonderful.”

Blair turned her head quickly as she cast a frantic look around the Great Hall. “Where is Cara?”

Kate gasped and hurried to search the room. “Here I am scolding my lads for not keeping a good eye on their sister and I go and do the same thing.”

Hannah joined in the search as well, praying the little lass had fallen asleep in a corner and had not wandered out of the room and, heaven forbid, had come across Slain.

“Is this who you search for?”

Hannah froze, as did the other two women, at the sound of Slain’s stern voice.

The three women turned to face him and their eyes bulged wide with shock.

Slain stood, holding the tiny lass, appearing even tinier in his powerful arms, her face smeared with charcoal, and his face streaked with it as well.

Cara grinned and pressed her little finger against Slain’s smudged cheek. “I draw.”