Logan grunted as he tried to sit up in Helena’s bed.

“Easy,” Mairin chided, moving from Helena’s side to his.

He and Helena made quite the pair. They lay in the chamber that had been hers before she’d fled, he with his middle stitched and bandaged, and she with her feet and calves wrapped in linen and propped on a pillow. Several maids, including Ida, Helena’s beloved companion, bustled about the room. If they weren’t both injured, he’d think they had become royalty in the days since the siege.

Blessedly, Geoffrey hadn’t managed to do as much damage to Helena as Logan had feared. Her throat was bruised with a ring of finger marks, and she still had a small lump on the back of her head from where he’d thrown her against the tunnel wall. But thanks to her stout wool cloak, dress, stockings, and leather boots, the flames hadn’t done any permanent damage to her feet and legs. Her skin was pink in places, especially along her right leg, but the healer assured them both that she would be fine in a sennight or two.

Logan, on the other hand, had been given strict instructions not to exert himself for at least a fortnight. Miraculously, Geoffrey’s dagger hadn’t hit aught so vital that Logan wouldn’t survive, but the healer was wary of infection or Logan reinjuring himself if he pushed too far, too soon.

Mairin had been by their side the moment Colin and Finn had declared the siege over and the castle safe to enter by non-warriors. She’d even helped get them from the great hall to Helena’s chamber once the healer had seen to their wounds and stopped Logan’s bleeding.

Ida, who stood combing Helena’s hair with gentle strokes, chuckled softly at Mairin’s chastisement of Logan. “Listen to the lassie,” she said to Logan. “We cannae have ye dropping dead now—no’ after what ye and Helena did for Craigmoor.” Her merry brown eyes flicked meaningfully between Helena and Logan.

“Dinnae fash, Ida,” Logan said, gingerly shifting so that he was propped upright on a pillow. “I cannae be gotten rid of so easily.” He locked eyes with Helena. “I’m no’ going anywhere.”

Helena’s cheeks flushed a bonny pink, but a shadow flickered across her eyes.

So focused had they been on reaching Craigmoor and wresting the castle from Geoffrey a sennight past that they hadn’t discussed what would happen after that. Logan would never leave Helena’s side, but would she be staying in the Borderlands, or would they return to the Highlands? And what did their plans mean for Mairin?

Ida must have read the doubt on Helena’s features as well, for the woman stilled in her combing. “Ye ken that ye are always welcome here, dinnae ye, milady?”

Helena blinked, a breath sucking past her rosy lips. “But…but we already agreed to cede the castle to the Bruce.”

Yesterday, when Helena had been well enough, she’d spoken with the captain of her father’s men, along with Ida, Brian the cook, and several of the castle’s senior servants. She’d told them of her plan to reclaim the castle from Geoffrey, only to surrender it to Robert the Bruce to avoid a siege that would have cost lives and supplies needed for the winter. They’d all agreed that it was the right course of action, and the English captain and his men had even decided to stay on amongst their new Scottish keepers.

“Aye, aye,” Ida said, waving away Helena’s concern. “Ye arenae the daughter of the castle’s lord anymore, but that doesnae mean we would turn ye out.”

Helena’s eyes suddenly shone with emotion, but she sank her teeth into her lower lip.

“I don’t just mean…that is, they all heard what Geoffrey said about…I mean that I would understand if some in the castle didn’t wish for me to stay.”

There was her true fear, Logan knew—that no one could be trusted with the knowledge of her visions, for certainly if they knew, they would turn on her. Logan found her hand atop the blankets and gave it a squeeze.

Ida took her other hand and sank onto the edge of the bed. “Silly lass,” she murmured. “There isnae a single soul in this castle who would condemn ye based on that monster’s words. Ye are our lady. What he did to ye, and to yer father—”

Ida shook her graying head, pressing her lips together for a moment. “He is gone now, praise the Lord,” she said, patting Helena’s hand. “And ye are safe with us. We can speak on it more if ye like, but I can assure ye that no one has qualms about ye. Whatever…abilities God has seen fit to give ye, ye used them to save us.”

Tears filled Helena’s emerald eyes as Ida spoke. Logan released her hand so that she could pull Ida into a tight embrace. “Thank you,” Helena murmured against the older woman’s shoulder.

Just then, Finn and Colin filled the chamber’s open doorway. Colin cleared his throat politely and Ida drew back, wiping the happy tears from Helena’s cheeks.

“I need to go relieve Brian,” Ida said, straightening her apron. “With so many mouths to feed, by the time he finishes preparing one meal, he has to start on the next.”

“Give the cook our thanks, and dinnae fash—the army willnae be here much longer,” Colin said with a courteous tilt of his head to Ida as she slipped by them.

Logan’s ears pricked at that. “The army is moving on?”

“Aye,” Finn said, stepping into the chamber fully. “We just got word from the Bruce. He is eager to turn his attention to the last few Borderland castles that remain in English hands. He was…quite pleased with how events at Craigmoor played out.” He looked at Helena and lifted half his mouth in a rare smile.

Colin, who had a far easier nature with people than Finn, gave them all a radiant grin. “We sent word when we took the castle. The King wishes to express his thanks personally to ye, Lady Helena, no’ only for ceding the castle to him, but for what ye did for the people of Craigmoor, English and Scottish alike.”

Another blush stole up Helena’s fair cheeks, and Logan’s heart swelled with pride—pride to have the love of a woman as brave and noble as Helena.

“He also wishes to ask a favor of ye,” Colin went on, his blue eyes dancing.

“A…a favor?” Helena sputtered. “The King of Scotland wishes a favor of me?”

“Aye,” Finn said. “He wants ye to serve as keeper of the castle—for Scotland, of course. He felt that there could be none more suited to the task than the woman who has already saved it once.”

“In return for seeing this keep maintained, the land worked, and the people well cared for,” Colin said, “the Bruce offers ye his protection. He willnae abandon Craigmoor, as King Edward did, nor the people who call this place home, as de Neville would have.”

Helena’s face was filled with so much joy and hope that Logan couldn’t help but smile. But then she stilled. “I have one condition.”

Colin cocked a golden brow. “Oh aye? What is that?”

Helena’s gaze landed on Logan, and his heart stuttered.

“I do not wish to look after the castle alone. Would the King be open to appointing a second keeper to run Craigmoor by my side?”

Logan’s stomach dropped even as his chest swelled. The chamber fell silent for a heartbeat, and then Colin barked a laugh.

“Aye, I think he would agree to that,” Colin said, clearly enjoying himself.

“Ye’d bloody well better ask the lass to marry ye if ye are going to be running this castle together,” Finn said dryly.

Helena turned to him, and everyone and everything around them fell away as he gazed into her eyes, the brightest green he’d ever seen.

“Will ye?” he murmured.

“I will.”

They didn’t need more words, for her gaze shone with the purest love, mirroring what lay in his heart.

He pulled her to him in a tight embrace, but grunted as the stitches pulled along his abdomen. When he loosened his hold, suddenly Mairin’s hands took one of theirs each. She looked between them, her eyes bright with unshed tears and an uncommon smile lighting her whole face.

She opened her mouth to speak.

“I cannae abide this.”

Logan’s gaze shot toward the chamber door, where Reid stood, face set in stone and arms crossed over his chest.

Logan stiffened, but the damned wound in this stomach wouldn’t permit him to rise.

Colin’s smile slowly faded as he looked at Reid. “Come now, Laird Mackenzie,” he said affably. “Ye cannae mean to deny the union of yer brother and Lady Helena.”

Reid’s gaze shifted to Helena, and to Logan’s surprise, he tilted his head in respect. “I have naught against Lady Helena. In fact, we all owe her much. I’m sure Logan doesnae deserve her. But that isnae what I object to,” he went on, his eyes turning to steel.

“Then what, man?” Finn asked, matching Reid’s dark scowl.

“Logan still hasnae answered for the death of our father,” Reid replied, staring at Logan. “Would the King truly wish for such a man—a man accused of killing a Laird—to hold the honored position of keeper of Craigmoor? As the Laird of the Mackenzies, I cannae stand for such a thing.”

Reid turned to Colin, pinning him with a look. “The Mackenzies are one of the largest, strongest Highland clans. We have been unwavering in our support of the Bruce. But I would have to think long and hard about sending warriors and supplies to a man who harbors a murderer.”

“Are ye threatening the King?” Finn asked softly.

A taut silence stretched for a long moment.

“Nay,” Reid replied at last. “The Bruce can trust in my loyalty—but can he trust Logan?”

“Reid, stop,” Mairin murmured at Logan’s side. “Please.”

Logan glanced at Mairin to find her wide-eyed and trembling.

“I cannae, Little Bird,” Reid said. “Logan must answer for our father’s death.”

“Stop,” Mairin whispered again, so softly that Logan barely heard her. She shrank back from his side, her shoulders hunching.

“Mairin, what is wrong?” Logan asked, but before she could answer, Reid went on, turning to Colin and Finn once more.

“A Highland Laird is dead because of Logan,” Reid ground out. “That cannae go unanswered. Justice must be served.”

“Stop!”

At Mairin’s sudden shriek, the whole room froze. All eyes swung to her. She’d backed herself into a corner away from the bed. Tears streamed down her face and her eyes were wild with pain and fear.

“Logan didnae kill our father!” she cried.

“Mairin,” Helena breathed, reaching toward her from the bed.

“How do ye ken that, Little Bird?” Reid asked gently, taking a step toward Mairin. “Ye dinnae remember that night. I ken ye want to protect Logan, but—”

“He didn’t kill him,” she repeated. Eyes blazing, she sucked in a breath. “I did.”