When Kaden carried Helena into Gregor’s Inn, a young maid he didn’t recognize cried out when she saw them. An older woman came running—the cook, Mrs. Hays.

She stopped short and her eyes widened. “Kaden, heaven help us.”

“Aye, Maggie,” he said. “I need a room.”

“What’s happened?” Maggie demanded.

“She’s hurt her ankle.” He nodded down at Helena, who blushed.

“Two years you have been gone, then ye show up with a wounded woman.” Maggie tsked, but he saw the pleasure in her eyes, and was relaxed a fraction. “Come along. I have a room on the second floor.”

She turned and he followed her down the hallway and up two flights of stairs. She took a key from her front pocket and opened the door to a modest room with a small bed to the left and a table near the fire.

“Set the lass on the bed and start a fire, Kaden,” Maggie said.

Kaden complied, then began building a fire.

Maggie pulled blankets from the chest at the bottom of the bed. “Child, ye are shivering.”

Kaden glanced over his shoulder. Maggie was unfastening Helena’s cloak. He returned his attention to the hearth, and by the time he had a fire roaring in the hearth, two lads arrived with a tub. Kaden rose and went to the table as they placed the tub in front of the fire.

“Ye are too kind, Mrs. Hays,” Helena said.

The older woman tsked. “We cannae have ye catching a chill.”

Maggie bustled out of the room as more lads appeared with buckets of steaming water.

Kaden crossed to where Helena sat and knelt on one knee. He looked up at her. “Your left ankle?”

Her cheeks pinked. She nodded. He grasped her left foot and unlaced the boot. Gently, he slid the boot from her foot and was relieved to find only mild swelling around the ankle. A hot bath and a good night’s rest would go a long way toward healing.

Maggie returned, a cloth and dish of soap in hand. “Go on now, Kaden. I will help the lass into the tub.”

Kaden grasped Helena’s other foot and removed the boot, then rose. “Are ye sure you dinnae need my help, lass?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “Nae.”

He laughed.

Mrs. Hays pushed him back a pace. “No more trouble from you, now go on.”

He smiled at Helena, who suddenly looked uncertain. “I will be downstairs in the tavern, lass.”

She nodded, and Kaden went downstairs to the tavern. Half a dozen men sat at various tables. He chose a table in the corner farthest from the hearth and, a moment later, a large man emerged from a door behind the counter. His gaze scanned the room and halted on Kayden. He turned, pulled two mugs from a shelf, picked up a pitcher off the counter and strode to where Kaden sat.

He set the mugs and pitcher on the table, sat in the chair opposite Kayden, and filled both mugs with ale. He pushed one mug toward Kayden, picked up his mug, then leaned back in the chair and waited.

Kaden drank half the ale, then set his mug back on the table, and said, “It is good to see you, Gregor.”

“That is all you have to say after two years?” Gregor said.

“What would you have me say?”

“I would have you say where you have been and why you left without so much as a word to anyone.”

Kaden released a sigh. “You know why I left.”

“No one holds you responsible for your brother’s traitorous acts,” Gregor said.

Kaden gave him a cool smile. “Ye know it isnae that simple.”

“He was your brother, man. It was only right that ye believed he was innocent.”

Did it matter that Kaden confided in the woman he loved that Liam had stolen the Faery Flag and she told his father, who then hung his own son on the word of a maid? Not a single person had ever dared mention that tidbit.

“Your father is to blame for hanging Liam,” Gregor said.

Kaden gave a slow nod. “He played his part.”

“No one blames you for confiding in Rhona.” Anger flashed across his face. “She had no business telling your father what you told her.”

“I blame me.” Kaden held up a hand when Gregor opened his mouth to reply. “The past is the past. Caeleb is laird now.”

Gregor took a long draught of ale and set his mug down. “Are you aware that we lost over a hundred men to the Donald’s four months ago?”

Anger whipped through Kaden. “Dòmhnall has gone mad. Why has Caeleb not retaliated? Has he no stomach for blood?”

Gregory leaned forward and whispered, “What Caeleb has is a spy in Malcolm Donald’s camp.”

“A spy?” In the Donald camp? Had he heard correctly? “Who?”

“His wife.”

Kaden straightened. “What?” He’d been gone two years and the world had gone to hell. “You’re talking nonsense, Gregory.”

Gregor snorted a laugh. “Ye dinnae know the half of it. Malcom Donald sent her to spy on Caeleb, but she betrayed Malcolm for Caeleb.”

Kaden was certain he’d heard wrong. “God’s teeth. Caeleb has betrayed us.”

“Careful,” Gregor said in a soft voice. “You, of all people, understand the dangers of making hasty accusations.”

“She’s a Donald’s spy,” he snapped.

A man two tables down glanced in their direction.

Kaden leaned toward Gregor. “Ye need to have a talk with your cousin. Find out what madness is in his mind.”

“He’s your cousin, as well,” Gregor said. “You talk to him.”

“He’s your cousin by blood,” Kaden growled. “My cousin married his mother’s cousin.”

“He’s sane,” Gregory said.

“A traitor cannae be trusted.”

“Caeleb feels he can trust her.”

Kaden fisted a hand. “Caeleb is thinking with his cock.”

Gregory gave a slow nod. “His heart may be involved, but Caeleb is no fool. He knows what he’s doing.”

“I thought the same thing about my brother,” Kaden whispered.

Gregor only stared.

Kaden finished his ale. “Caeleb had better be right.”

Gregor lifted a brow. “Did you return to challenge his decisions as laird?”

Nae. He’d come to stop a foolish girl from herself.

* * *

Helena stepped into the tub and gripped the edges as she lowered herself into the heavenly warmth of the water. The chill burrowed deeper in her core as the warmth slowly worked its way deeper. Mrs. Hayes set the dish of soap and cloth on the nearby table and Helena waited until the older woman had scrubbed her hair then directed her to rinse it before saying, “I hope it wasnae terribly difficult for ye to allow Kaden to return here after so long.”

As expected, Mrs. Hayes looked at her in surprise. It was a gamble, but Helena felt certain it wasn't a huge gamble. The surprise on Mrs. Hayes face when she'd seen Kaden had been obvious. Her pleasure at seeing him was also obvious. Helena suspected that he'd been gone for some time, after leaving under unfavorable circumstances. That probably explained why he was living alone in a small croft. She would be much wiser to leave well enough alone; but she wasn't known for her wisdom. She was, however, known for engendering trust.

“I know it was a risk for him to come here,” Helena said. “But I appreciate that you took us in.”

Would the older woman tell her something that would illuminate the situation, or would she tell Helena to mind her own business?

“Kaden is welcome here anytime.” Mrs. Hayes handed her the soap.

Helena flashed a grateful smile. “I thank you.”

Mrs. Hayes eyes sharpened, then her expression gentled. “Ye care for him.”

Helena dropped her gaze, as much out of genuine embarrassment as hoping to elicit sympathy, and began scrubbing her arms. “He is a good man.” It wasn't a lie.

“I am pleased he has found a good woman. You are a good woman?”

Helena looked at her shyly. “I am an honest woman.” This was a complete lie. But in this case, she wanted nothing more than to understand the man who had saved her twice in the last three days.

“How long have you known him?” Mrs. Hayes asked.

Helena prayed Mrs. Hayes didn't ask Kaden the same question. “Only two weeks. He saved my life.”

Mrs. Hayes frowned, then pulled up a chair and sat down as Helena told her how she had fallen through the ice and he'd saved her. “He has allowed me to stay with him—but he has been a gentleman.”

The older woman gave a succinct nod. “Kaden is a good man. Where are ye from, lass?”

“My mother was a MacKinnon, but I have distant cousins that are MacLeods. I was on my way to visit them.” She feigned a sad expression. “My mother died two months ago.”

“What of your father?”

Helena shook her head. “He died when I was very young.”

Mrs. Hayes sighed. “I am sorry.”

Helena nodded and washed her feet very slowly. “Thank ye. Do you think Kaden might return home?” Another, much bigger gamble.

Mrs. Hayes sighed. “He should. Even Caeleb would be glad to see him. I do no’ believe he desires to take his place is laird. But it matters not. He belongs here with us.”

Laird? Her heart began to pound. Helena studiously washed her other foot. Heaven help her. She’d fallen in with the MacLeod laird.

* * *

Kaden climbed the stairs back to the room to find Helena buried beneath blankets, fast asleep in bed. His gaze caught on a tiny splash of MacLeod plaid against the black of her cloak, which lay across the foot of the bed. Kaden crept to the bed and picked up the cloak. He reached inside the pocket and pulled out a folded piece of plaid. He didn’t have to unwrap the plaid. He recognized the cloth that was wrapped around the Faery Flag given to the MacLeod clan by the Fae Queen.

Blessed by the Faery Queen Titania, its magic was purported to stop wars, protect from evil, and even stop death. But its power could only be used by a MacLeod. He gave a silent, mirthless laugh. If the flag had ever been used, it was long ago, when men were honorable.  

Helena sighed and he yanked his gaze onto her. She turned over and went silent again. He slipped the flag back into the pocket and draped the cloak over the back of a chair at the table. If Caeleb MacLeod discovered who took the flag, they would be hanged. Just as Kaden’s brother had been.