Niall and Strath crossed into the bailey of Dupplin Castle at dawn two days after leaving the abbey. They were covered in sweat that had frozen and unfrozen on their bodies.

The men had seen them coming and raised the gate. They cheered his return but then looked oddly at Strath, who was most certainly not Walter. Where the Oliphant lads were golden-haired, Strath took after his father in the nearly black tone of his long hair.

“Niall!” Bella rushed from the castle and flung herself toward him before he had a good balance on the ground. Luckily, his horse had not moved much, and he was able to steady himself with his back to his mount. When she had kissed him all over his face, she jolted at the sight of her brother. “Strath?”

“The one and only,” her brother teased, pulling her from Niall’s grasp and into his own embrace with a teasing grin. “I missed ye.”

“Is that why ye’ve come? Where is Walter?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, nay, he’s gotten married hasna he? Just as he thought he might.”

“Nay, nay,” Strath answered before Niall could. “We came—”

“Walter had some other things to attend to.” Niall gave a slight shake of his head. He didn’t want to worry Bella unnecessarily about MacGregor and the reason for their abrupt return.

“Sir,” Philip approached. “I dinna want to interrupt your homecoming with your wife, but there is something that needs to be brought to your attention.”

The same prickle that had shuddered its way up Niall’s spine at the abbey did so again. “What is it?”

Philip nodded to Strath. Bella let go of her brother and went to stand beside Philip. “We were attacked some days ago.”

Niall’s blood went cold. Hell and damnation, this was exactly what he’d feared. “Casualties?”

“None, my laird. I had Lady Bella and Mary out by the river while she practiced her archery. Arrows started to fly all around us—with the MacGregor plaid tied to the shafts. They didna hit us. We ran back to the castle with the training men at our backs. No one came out of the woods to show themselves, and when we searched, they seemed to have disappeared again. There’s been no sign of them and no more attacks since.”

“The same way they attacked the scouts in the woods and killed Hammond, only this time, they didna kill anyone,” Niall mused. “But they did aim to scare my wife.”

“Aye, sir. We’ve been on heightened alert, continuing the searches that ye tasked us with before ye left, and doubling the guard on the walls. No one has left the castle unless it was absolutely necessary, and the crofters have been warned to remain locked up tight.”

MacGregor. Ballocks. The man was hiding in plain sight, and showing up at the abbey had given him an alibi. Which meant either he didn’t believe they knew him to be the culprit, or he thought them too stupid to figure it out. But leaving the plaids on the arrows as a way of identifying them was an idiotic move.

“MacGregor came late to the meeting with the king. Likely because of what he was doing here.” Niall’s hand fisted hard enough he could have crushed stone. He knew he should not have gone to the meeting. But how did a man choose between the orders of his king and protecting his wife?

The Bruce could have Niall arrested for not following an order, possibly even toss into the dungeon as an example to anyone else. Even if Walter was soon to marry the Bruce’s daughter, he wouldn’t play favorites. Not in this tumultuous time. And with men turning their backs on each other, he wouldn’t blame the king for thinking yet another had betrayed him. Bella was safer with Niall not in a dungeon. Even if that meant he had to be away from her for short periods of time. As soon as he got to his study, he would write a letter to the king. Glancing down where she stood beside him, he said, “I promise ye, lass, I’ll not leave your side again until MacGregor is buried deep in the earth.”

Bella took his hand in hers. Her fingers were delicate and cold from the winter air. He rubbed his thumb along the calloused pads of her fingers she used in archery. Touching her brought him a sense of calm he didn’t feel otherwise.

“Is there a chance it could be someone other than MacGregor?” Strath asked.

“Nay.” Niall relayed the incident on the morning of the tournament and the ambush in the forest, which had been MacGregor without question. The two subsequent attacks had been less defined, but the fact that the arrows had been deliberately tied with MacGregor plaids, and Eòran himself had been missing from the meeting during the time of the latest attack. It seemed like there was no question about who was responsible.

“I see. Ye’re right. That’s motivation in itself.”

“Aye.” Niall brushed a kiss on top of Bella’s head.

“Come and break your fast,” she urged, tugging at his hand.

“We’ll be along shortly. I want to speak with the men.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed her features, but she nodded with a slight smile and turned to go back inside.

“Wow.” Strath watched his sister’s retreating figure with a gaping mouth. “What have ye done to my sister?”

Niall frowned and flicked his gaze after his wife. She was climbing the stairs, her skirts wishing around her ankles, long blonde hair cascading down her back. Gorgeous as always. “What?”

“That is not my sister. My Bella would have raged at ye for making her go inside while ye talked with the men.”

Niall chuckled, fully understanding what he meant now. “No doubt she’ll rage at me later.”

“Ah, well, if ye know it’s coming, then, aye, she’s the same old Bella. ’Haps she has something else up her sleeve. We’d best be quick about talking with the men and getting inside to breakfast.”

Niall grinned. Her brother would pummel him into the ground if he knew what Niall was hoping she had up her sleeve.

“Och, will ye stop looking after her like that,” Strath said with disgust. “Ye’re making my gut rebel.”

Niall chuckled, slapped Strath on the back and led him toward the gatehouse so he could speak with the men on watch.

Bella paced the great hall, nervously awaiting Niall and her brother. Set upon the dais table was the bow wrapped in two woolen sacks she’d sewn together for extra measure so that no one would be too curious and take a peek. Would he like it? Would he think she’d overstepped? Would he be angry at her for making the presentation of her gift such a public display?

Her knuckles were white and her fingers raw from gripping them so tightly. Goodness, if he didn’t come inside soon, she’d wear a path through the rushes and perhaps even the wood plank floor below.

The servants were all looking at her nervously, seeming uncertain of her mood. No one moved. They eyed her as though she were a rabid dog ready to pounce. Speaking of dogs, the wolfhounds that normally loitered in the great hall and lounged by the hearth were sitting up alert and inching closer to the door. They’d yet to put the morning meal on the table as she’d ordered them to hold off until she’d presented Niall with his bow.

Fletcher stood in the corner. She’d invited him to watch his master open the carefully made gift as soon as she’d seen the men riding closer. In another corner stood two squires ready to bring out the targets, also covered in woolen sacks, for Niall to give it a try.

Now she was thinking that was a mistake. He wouldn’t want to be put on the spot. His skill on display. Or lack of skill, as he would see it. He hated having attention drawn to his injury, and now she was making a spectacle of him.

Bella ceased her pacing and was about to tell them all to leave when Niall and Strath came marching through the door. Her brother looked so much like their father, and side by side, her husband and brother looked like night and day. Golden and dark. Just the sight of them together chuckling in camaraderie brought a rush of warmth through her—and a sudden pang of homesickness.

“What’s this?” Niall paused a few feet away from her, taking in the servants, Fletcher and the lads with what he would perceive as giant woolen sacks very obviously covering something in the corner. “I thought we’d come to break our fast, but it seems ye have something else in mind. What’s under those sacks? What have ye got there, lad?”

“Not yet,” she rushed. “Ye recall I said I had a surprise for ye.” Licking her lips, she tried to form the words, but her mouth kept opening and closing as though she’d suddenly gained Mary’s affliction. Oh, dretch, why is this so hard?

Bella stared around the room in mounting horror, not knowing what to say. She’d been so sure of her gift before… Now, every uncertainty washed through her. Everything that could go wrong, including hurting Niall, which was not her intention at all.

“Sir Niall,” Fletcher said coming forward. “Your gracious wife commissioned me to make a gift.”

Bella smiled gratefully at the man, inclining her head.

“A gift.” Niall’s eyes brightened as they danced toward her. “My surprise is a gift, lass? But I have nothing for ye in return.”

“This was something I wanted to do for ye. I need nothing in return, husband.” Heat flooded her cheeks, and she twisted her hands in front of her. “And perhaps now is not a good time…”

“My, ye certainly want to keep me in suspense do ye not?” He chuckled. “Will ye let me open it?”

“Nay, ’tis just, I’m no longer certain—”

Strath cut her off. “Come on, Bella. Everyone loves your gifts. Let us see it.”

With her brother there for support, and deciding that if Niall hated it and her for having it made, she could always go home, Bella backed toward the dais. She lifted the large sack with both hands and carefully carried it forward to present it to her husband in one awkward thrust.

“Here.”

Niall took the sack, held it out and curled wrist up to inspect the edge. He raised a brow. “Ye sewed it shut.”

Oh God. Holding it with one hand, he wouldn’t be able to cut the threads. But her brother saved her before she could say anything by tugging out his sgian dubh and cutting the threads with a jovial, “’Tis just like home with me unwrapping everyone’s gifts afore they get a chance”

Bella laughed. Her brother did have a penchant for sneaking into the great hall where their parents left a stash of gifts at the end of every year to celebrate their children. He would open each one, and then attempt to put the wrapping back together, but they all knew what had happened.

Bella tugged off one sack while her brother tugged off another, leaving the bow in Niall’s grasp.

The polished yew wood gleamed in the light of the candles. The room was silent, and Niall was staring hard at the bow, perhaps trying to figure out just what she thought he would do with it. Bella stood frozen for a moment, fearing what he was thinking with no outward expression to give her a clue.

“This—” she touched the looped leather strap, “—goes here.” Gently, she brushed his left shoulder. “And this—” she pointed to the corded knot of roping on the center of the bowstring, “—ye put between your teeth to pull the bowstring back. When ye’re ready to launch your arrow, ye let it fly.”

“Ye had this made for me?” His voice was quiet and still did not give away how he felt about it.

All smiles had left her now, and her fingers were cold, slowly losing sensation. She noted he took sight of what she’d had carved inside. Ye will always be my knight.

“Aye,” Bella answered, her voice stronger. “Ye’re the best archer I know. And people that are good at things should never quit. There’s no amount of hardship that should hold ye back, Niall.”

When Niall met her gaze, his eyes glittered with emotion, but he quickly blinked it away, handed the bow to Strath and tugged her up against him. Bella was shocked at first, not expecting that, and when he pressed his lips hard to hers for an all-too-brief kiss, her knees buckled. Luckily, he held her up, his smile enough to melt every bit of fear she might have had.

“I take it ye like it?” she whispered.

“Och, aye.” His voice was tight, as though he were trying to hold back his emotions.

“Will ye try it? I can show ye how ’tis done. Fletcher and I have been practicing.”

Niall seemed taken aback by that. “Ye truly are an extraordinary woman.”

Bella’s face heated, but she tried to act as though what he said didn’t affect her as much as it did and ran her fingers over the wood and string. Why had she fretted so much about whether he would like the gift? He clearly did.

“A demonstration by your lady,” Niall called out to those in attendance, holding the bow up in the air.

The lads who’d been waiting in the corner brought forth the targets and set them up, three in all, at different lengths from where they stood.

“First, adjust the strap to make certain it holds tight with your arm extended.” With her arm behind her back, Bella slipped the strap over her left shoulder and adjusted the chord with her teeth and right hand. Once it was secure, she held on to the curved grip of the bow and thrust her right arm out, taking note that the strap was snug. Niall watched her intently. “Then ye’ll tuck the bow between your legs, and clip your arrow at the notch here where the corded rope is. Then ye’ll reposition the strap and grab the rope with your teeth.” Biting the rope, she straightened her arm, jaw clenched securely to hold the string and arrow extended. “Aim,” she muttered around the rope between her teeth. “And fire.”

She let the arrow go to the shortest target, not wanting to show off that she could hit the farthest target in case it took him a while. After all, she’d been practicing for days.

“Incredible,” Niall said.

“That is amazing,” Strath said. “This could change the way we fight.”

Bella glanced at Fletcher, and they shared a triumphant smile. “Your turn, husband.”

Niall followed her instructions exactly, raised the bow, took aim and hit the edge of the target.

“Incredible! Especially for a first try. I knew ye still had it in ye.” Bella clapped. “Do it again.”

Niall frowned, nocked another arrow, aimed and fired. This time he was much closer to the center, but not quite perfect. Those in the great hall were cheering, stomping their feet and encouraging him to do it again. Each time he nocked the arrow, Niall’s speed increased, and with each shot, he was closer to the center. He beamed at her, at the target, at his people, and there was a confidence she saw in him that matched, if not exceeded, the way he’d looked on the battlefield brandishing his sword.

When he hit the shortest target and split her arrow, the crowd shouted so loudly the rafters literally shook with their pride.

Bella shrieked. “Ye’ve beaten me!”

Niall let the bow slide to his side, grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up to twirl her in a circle. “My God, lass… My God…”

He was bending to kiss her when the sharp, reproachful sound of his mother interrupted. “What is going on here?”

Niall set Bella down, and she stepped in what she hoped was an appropriate distance away from her husband.

“I am using my new gift, my lady mother. Come and see.”

Lady Oliphant frowned, lifted her skirts and marched toward her son, taking note of the targets and arrows.

“What is this?” Her long fingers thrust toward the targets. “Who would set this up in my great hall? What is that?” She jabbed toward the bow.

“A new bow,” Niall said. “Bella had it made for me, so I can shoot again.”

The normally bitter lady’s eyes widened and filled with unshed tears. “Show me.”

Niall nocked an arrow, reset the leather strap and shot it into the center of the first target.

“Do the second,” she whispered, her hands coming to cover her mouth. They were shaking, and tears were visibly rolling down her cheeks as Niall fired into the second and then the third, farthest target, hitting the center each time.

“A miracle,” she murmured, visibly shaken. “A bloody miracle.”

“Nay, Mama, not a miracle. ’Tis Bella.”

Lady Oliphant turned to face Bella, reached for her hands and squeezed them. “Ye…ye did a wonderful thing for my son. I…I must apologize for how I treated ye before. I was… Well, it doesna matter. Ye’ve given me my son back. Made him happy.”

And then she was tugging Bella into her arms, squeezing her as tightly as she could, until Bella coughed from the strain of trying to breathe but didn’t push her away all the same.

“Mama, ye’re supposed to thank her, not kill her,” Niall teased.

Belle watched him over his mother’s shoulder. There was such joy on his face. A mirthful glint shone in his eyes. He was almost an entirely new man. The clan could feel it. The tension in their shoulders relaxed, and they were laughing, smiling and chattering away.

“Can I try, sir?” One of the squires who’d obviously had to work up the courage to come forward and speak with Niall.

“Of course, lad.” Niall bent to give him instruction.

Never again would she question her decisions when it came to knowing her husband and what he needed. Her heart soared, and she realized watching him jest with her brother and pound Fletcher on the back that she was deeply in love with him. More so than when she’d been a lass, more than what she’d built him into over the years. This man, this true Niall right here in front of her, she loved him. Truly and deeply.

How am I so lucky? Niall met Bella’s gaze, taking in the emotion in her eyes, the secret smile curving her lips. No one had ever done something like this for him. Aye, there had been pep talks, and there had been pushing. His brother and Philip had forced him to pick up a sword again. But to design something for him to use, to know how much he loved archery and want to make it a part of his life again…

Thanking Bella would not be enough. He could get down on his hands and knees and crawl over flames shouting his gratitude, and it would not be enough. A weight seemed to have been lifted off his chest, and immense pleasure radiated through his veins. There were no words he could use to describe what was happening inside him. He felt…alive. More than that, he felt invincible.

Once more, he glanced down at what was carved on the inside of the polished wood bow.

Ye will always be my knight.

Suddenly, an idea came to him. Though he would spend the rest of his life cherishing her for what she’d done today, he knew the perfect way to thank her sooner rather than later for this precious gift.

With that, Niall laughed, and challenged his wife to an archery contest.