Bree was woken by shafts of sunlight falling onto her pillow. She’d slept well and her dreams—mostly of a certain golden-haired warrior—left her feeling warm and fuzzy. She couldn’t remember when she’d last slept so well.

She sat up with a stretch then took her time getting washed and dressed. From the angle of the sun she guessed it was early but the bailey outside was already busy and she heard people talking as they passed in the corridor outside. The Murray clan clearly rose very early.

There was a knock on the door and Bree answered it to find a maid standing there. She curtseyed.

“Good morning, my lady,” she said. “I’ve come to help ye dress.”

“Oh,” Bree said, a little taken aback. Help her dress? “No need. I’m already dressed.”

The maid smiled. “Aye, so it seems. Well, if ye are ready, perhaps I can show ye down to breakfast?”

“You certainly can, I’m starving,” Bree replied with a smile.

The maid, whose name was Iris, led her quickly through the corridors of the castle. Bree did her best to pay attention and remember the route although all the steps and twisting corridors was a bit like a maze. Down in the great hall she found the Murray women already seated at the main table—although there was no sign of the Murray men.

Iris escorted Bree to a seat between Gretchen and Jenna. Amy was seated next to her mother, a young girl of about three on her knee.

The women greeted her warmly and Bree was introduced to Anna, Amy’s daughter and James, her son. He was around seven years old and had come tearing across the hall with a small white dog in tow. He had blond hair and golden skin like Alex—a coloring inherited from the paternal line, by all accounts. Bree greeted the children warmly and they both executed perfect bows and curtsies, much to the delight of their mother.

“Did you sleep well?” Gretchen asked, putting some toast onto Bree’s plate and pulling over a crock of butter.

“Very well,” Bree asked. Her eyes roved over the hall. It was busy, with many of the castle’s inhabitants sitting at the long benches breaking their fast. The low rumble of conversation filled the room and there was an air of excitement about the place.

“Alex isn’t here,” Gretchen said, guessing who Bree was looking for. “Although everyone seems to be waiting for him. The hall isn’t normally this busy. My son’s return has caused quite the stir.”

“Well, they might have to wait awhile,” Amy said. “He and David were up drinking late last night. I doubt they are feeling the best this morning.”

Bree tucked into her breakfast. As she ate Amy’s children kept up a constant stream of questions. They were both bright and inquisitive and Bree found herself laughing at their antics.

“Och, leave Lady Breanne be, will ye?” Jenna said to them after they’d grilled her about where she lived. When they discovered she’d been to Edinburgh they’d become even more excited. Bree had been hard pressed to answer them without giving away her time-traveling origins.

There was a sudden commotion and a hush went through the great hall. Everyone turned their heads, staring at something over on the far side. Bree craned her neck to see over the crowd and realized Alex and David were standing by the stairs. Everyone was staring at Alex.

He looked uncomfortable. Bree knew him well enough by now to be able to read his moods and she knew he was tense.

The silence stretched. Then a man slowly rose, scraping back his bench. He had red hair and Bree recognized him as one of the stable hands who’d taken their horses yesterday. The man slowly made his way around the table and crossed the hall to stand in front of Alex.

Alex watched him come, every inch of him taut, like a coiled spring. The man halted an arm’s length from Alex and just stared. Alex stared back.

Bree found herself holding her breath. The atmosphere in the hall went up a notch.

Then the man smiled. “Ye may be older but I would recognize ye anywhere, Alex Murray,” he said. “My, but it’s good to see ye, my old friend.”

Alex grinned, all the tension leaking out of him. “And ye too, Lucas. It’s been too long.”

The two men embraced and Bree breathed out. Everyone went back to their breakfast, the hum of conversation filling the air again. Alex spent a good while chatting with his friend before making his way over to the table. Bree couldn’t help noticing how many in the hall watched him as he crossed the floor with his cousin.

“Good morning,” David said brightly. “I hope ye have saved some breakfast for me—I could eat a horse!”

“Lady Breanne,” Alex said as he came over to stand in front of her. “If ye have finished yer breakfast, mayhap we can begin that tour now?”

He looked very eager to get out of the hall and all the staring eyes. Bree nodded.

“Yes, I’m done. Let’s go.”

She pushed the bench back and, with a farewell to the others, followed Alex outside. It was a fine, bright day, if a little windy. It tore at Bree’s hair and sent it swirling out behind her. Alex walked at her side. Neither spoke but the silence was companionable rather than awkward.

They crossed the bailey, left the castle grounds through the gates, and made their way down into the village. They skirted a groaning cart that blocked the path whilst three men argued about the price of the cargo—ale barrels by the looks of them. They were accosted by a group of children playing tag who darted around Alex and Bree, using them as a shield, until Alex good-naturedly shooed them off. A group of women collecting water at the well laughed uproariously at a joke one of them had made. The whole place was so vibrant. So...so... full of life.

Bree sighed.

“What is it, lass?” Alex asked.

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m fine.”

He frowned. “Did ye sleep well?”

“Well?” she arched an eyebrow at him. “That bed would have done any five star hotel proud.”

“I dinna ken what a ‘hotel’ might be but I’m glad ye like yer room.”

She glanced at him to find him watching her. Heat touched her cheeks and she quickly cleared her throat. “So where are we going then, O guide of mine?”

“Everywhere,” he replied. “There’s much to show ye, and I have much to catch up on.”

He led them along the river bank to where villagers stood in a line in the shin-high water. They each held nets and were staring intently at the churning water. Alex explained that they were trying to catch salmon. Bree watched, fascinated. After this, Alex took Bree to the southern edge of the village where a huge orchard stretched into the distance. Men and women were on step-ladders pruning and tending to the trees. A wonderful scent filled Bree’s nostrils and the whole place droned with the sound of bees.

“I used to come here a lot as a lad,” Alex said, leaning against a tree. “All the village children did. We used to drive the farmers to distraction picking the apples before they were ready. They used to chase us off with their brooms as I recall.” He smiled at the memory. “Come autumn, when the apples are ready there will be a mass picking and pressing of the apples.”

“What do they do with them?” Bree asked.

“Some go up to Dun Carrick, some to the villagers’ tables, but most get turned into cider. It’s a bit of an event. The whole village gets involved.”

“Sounds like fun! And I bet you all have a laugh drinking it afterwards!”

“Aye, something like that,” he replied, smiling wryly. He glanced up at the sky. “It’s nearly midday. What say we get something to eat?”

Bree nodded and they set off again, strolling along the edge of the orchard and onto the path back to the village. Alex walked close by her side, so close that his arm brushed hers occasionally. Each time it did, a little thrill went through her and she couldn’t seem to stop looking at him, glancing at him covertly when she thought he might not notice. The wind had tousled his hair so that it lay on his shoulders like windswept ears of corn. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight and his golden skin seemed to glow. In fact, the whole of him seemed to glow. There was a new light in his eyes, new vigor in his steps. He seemed to hold his head higher, carry himself straighter. And the sight of him, his nearness, sent tingles along her skin.

Who was this self-confident warrior walking by her side? Who was this man at ease with himself and the world? He was a different man to the one he’d been in Lord Donald’s castle.

Which is the real Alexander Murray? she thought. The criminal who works for Lord Donald or the dutiful warrior of Clan Murray? I like this one better. Much better.

Alex bought them pies from a bakery and they made their way down to the riverbank and sat down.

Bree looked at the packet in Alex’s hands wistfully.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

“Nothing. I was just hoping for something sweet. I think I’m having sugar withdrawal. What I wouldn’t give for a cookie or a big gooey flapjack.”

“Ye should speak to my mother,” Alex said drily. “She would nay doubt make ye some—or as near as she could get it. She’s brought lots of the yer twenty-first century recipes to our clan. My favorite is pizza.”

Bree stared at him, not sure if he was pulling her leg. “You’re teasing me! You do not have pizza here!”

“Do too!” Alex protested. “And paella. And a whole host of other things my mother introduced. There are a few things she’s not been able to replicate though. Like chocolate. She gets all gooey-eyed when that gets mentioned.”

Bree’s eyes slid closed. “Ah, chocolate. I think I would happily sell my soul for a huge bar of milk chocolate with hazelnuts right now.”

“Well, I’m afraid pie will have to do. A poor substitute I’m sure, but what is a man to do?”

Bree laughed. “What indeed? I’m afraid I will just have to suffer the barbarity of your sixteenth century victuals.”

“Aye. It’s a hard life.”

Alex unwrapped the bundle to reveal two pies about the size of a small dinner plate. The pastry on top was a lovely golden color and the smell that wafted from them made Bree’s stomach growl. Alex used his belt knife to cut the pies into slices and then passed her one, using the wrapping as a plate.

Bree took the proffered piece and blew on it to cool it. Then she tucked in, juice dribbling down her chin. It was hardly lady-like but Bree didn’t care. The pie was delicious, the meat inside coming apart on her tongue and the vegetables cooked to perfection. There was a faint spiciness to it too which made it all the more delicious.

“This is amazing!” she said. “I take it all back—this is way better than a cookie!”

“I knew ye would see it my way,” Alex replied.

Bree grinned and tucked into another piece of pie. When this was finished she sat back, stretching her legs out in front of her and leaning back on her hands. She let out a long sigh and watched the river gurgle lazily by. A strange feeling was uncoiling inside her and it took a moment for her to place it. She felt...she felt...content.

Alex’s family had been nothing but welcoming, making her feel at home in this strange place. Although, she had to admit, it didn’t feel that strange after all. People were people at the end of the day, no matter what place and time they came from. They had the same cares, the same dreams and hopes. Perhaps it wasn’t so different to the twenty-first century after all.

She glanced at Alex and found him watching her. Heat rushed to her cheeks and she looked away, concentrating on the river.

“What are ye thinking, lass?” he asked softly.

“That it’s nice here,” she replied. “That I like being here.” She took a deep breath and turned to look at him. “With you.”

He went very still. For a second he said nothing and the silence between them stretched. Then he reached out and gently traced his finger down the side of Bree’s face.

“Even after all ye’ve learned about me?” he asked. His voice had turned low and husky. Something flashed in his eyes - desire? The sight of it sent Bree’s pulse racing.

He cupped her cheek with his calloused hand and Bree found herself leaning into his touch. All she could see was him: his golden hair resting on his shoulders, his eyes, wide and full of desire, his lips, gently parted, the breath escaping them in slow, deep gasps.

“Yes” she murmured. “Even after that.”

He pressed his lips to hers. A shot of pure adrenaline sizzled through Bree. She kissed him back, moving her lips against his, desire making her giddy.

“There he is! There’s the piece of scum!”

Bree’s eyes snapped open as she looked around wildly.

A woman was charging across the ground towards them. A man chased after her, tried to grab her, but she shook him off. Alex’s eyes widened and a look of horror swept his face. He scrambled to his feet, pulling Bree up behind him.

The woman marched right up to him and jabbed him in the chest with her finger. She barely reached Alex’s chest but even so he took a step back.

“Ye!” the woman screamed at him. “How dare ye show yer face here? I didnae believe it when I heard ye were back but here ye are, lounging around like ye have not a care in the world! Ye shouldnae be here! Ye have nay right! Nay right, do ye hear?”

“Rina, please,” Alex said, holding out a hand. 

The woman batted his hand away. She looked to be around Gretchen’s age and had curly brown hair tied at the nape of her neck. Her face had gone bright red and she quivered with rage.

“Nay, dinna speak to me!” she hissed. “Ye took my son from me! He trusted ye! I trusted ye and look where it led us! Ye betrayed us! Ye are a murderer and a traitor, Alexander Murray! Ye should never have come back here! Ye are not welcome!” She threw herself at Alex, hammering her fists into his chest.

Alex made no move to stop her. He was twice her size, could easily have defended himself but he did nothing as she pummeled him. His face had gone pale and there was a look of such horror on his face that it took Bree’s breath away.

A moment later the man who’d been following reached her and grabbed her arms, dragging her off Alex.

“Nay!” she screamed. “Take yer hands off me!”

“This isnae the way, Rina!” the man said. “Come away.”

The man began dragging her back towards the village.

“Murderer!” the woman screamed over her shoulder. “Ye are a murderer and will pay for what ye’ve done!”

Then she dissolved into a fit of sobbing and sagged into the man’s embrace. He quickly led her back to the village. Bree stared after them, mouth hanging open in shock.

Alex stood frozen, his face a mask of pain and surprise. He stared in the direction the couple had gone. A vein twitched in his temple.

Bree took a tentative step towards him and laid a hand on his arm. “Alex?”

He jumped as if he’d been stung, stepping away from her. “Come on,” he growled. “It’s time we were getting back.”

He set off without waiting for her and Bree scrambled to catch up. Alex said not a word as they walked back to the castle. His face had taken on the expressionless mask she’d grown so accustomed to, the one that she now realized he used to hide what was going on inside him. She wanted to ask a thousand questions but his expression stopped her in her tracks. He stomped back to the keep in morose silence, Bree struggling to keep up with his long strides. Once back at the castle, Alex escorted her up the steps into the main keep and came abruptly to a halt outside the doors to the great hall. From inside came the sound of conversation and laughter. Alex’s expression tightened. He didn’t meet her eyes as he gave her a stiff bow.

“I trust ye can find yer own way from here. Good day.”

Then, before she could say anything, he spun on his heel and all but ran down the steps and out into the bailey, leaving Bree staring after.

***

Bree watched him go for a moment, indecision making her pause. Then she whirled and made her way back up to her room, shutting the door behind her and leaning back against it. Today had been going so well. Spending time with Alex had been amazing. He’d seemed so different. So relaxed. So at home.

But all that had changed when Rina had attacked him. She’d called him a murderer.

Bree shook her head. That couldn’t be right. Rina must be mistaken.

But Owen said Alex was a criminal who should have hung, she thought. And he was banished from Dun Carrick.

He had so many secrets. So much he hadn’t told her. What was the truth? Who was Alexander Murray really?

I need to know, she thought. Must know.

Reaching a decision, she left her room and hurried outside. Shading her eyes with one hand as she looked around. The bailey was busy, with people coming and going on errands of their own but there was no sign of Alex.

She snagged a young warrior as he was striding past and asked if he’d seen him. The youth nodded and pointed to an area at the back of the castle, saying he’d seen Alex heading that way. Bree thanked him and hurried on.

She followed the man’s directions around the back of the keep, past the kitchens and soon found herself coming up to the curtain wall. In it, a small iron gate stood open.

Bree ducked through and followed the grassy path beyond into a large, roped-off field. The field was empty but for one figure. Alex. Bree moved closer then ducked behind a weapons-rack so she wasn’t spotted. Alex was stripped to the waist and held a large sword in a two-handed grip. He appeared to be doing some sort of training, battling an opponent that wasn’t there. He twisted in and out of different poses, swinging the blade in graceful arcs or stabbing it in short, sharp movements. 

Bree watched, mesmerized. Alex moved with a feline grace, making the movements seem almost like a dance, flowing from one stance to the next without pause. It reminded Bree of some of the martial arts movies she’d seen when she was a kid, only this was real and far more deadly. Alex’s movements were so quick she could hardly follow them and his golden hair flared around his head like a halo.

A thin sheen of sweat covered his torso and his muscles bunched and released under his skin. Bree gasped as she caught sight of the scars that covered his back, striping him from shoulder to buttocks. Some of them looked like the lashes of a whip but others looked more like stab wounds or cuts from a blade.

Bree’s heart quickened at the sight. Where had he gotten those scars?

He seemed unaware of her, completely engrossed in his training. Bree pulled in a deep breath. It was time to have things out with him. She stepped out of her hiding place and trotted towards him, clearing her throat.

“Alex I—”

She got no further. At the sound of her footsteps Alex spun like lightning and in an instant the tip of his sword was pressed against the base of Bree’s throat. She froze, her eyes going wide.

Recognition swept over Alex’s face and his eyes widened. He dropped the sword into the dirt.

“Bree?” he cried. “What are ye doing here? Ye shouldnae creep up on me like that, I could have hurt ye!”

“Sorry,” Bree grumbled, massaging her throat. “But I wasn’t creeping up on anyone. I’ve come to talk to you.”

Alex held her gaze for a moment then he snatched his shirt from where it was hanging on a pole. “I’ve got naught to say.” Sheathing his sword, he strode away from her in the direction of the river.

Annoyance welled inside Bree. Damn the man! Why did he have to be so god-damned difficult? She hurried after him.

“Wait one second, Alexander Murray!”

He didn’t slow until he reached the river bank where he knelt down and ducked his head into the water, flinging droplets all over Bree.

“Why have ye come, Bree?” he asked.  “What do ye want?”

“Some answers!” Bree retorted. “The truth. Why did that woman attack you?”

“It’s none of yer business,” Alex grated, his eyes glinting with anger.

“None of my business? It’s because of your god-damned past that I’m here in the first place! So far I’ve been imprisoned by Lord Donald, dragged half-way across Scotland and had to watch as a woman attacked you! So don’t say it’s none of my business! Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” She was yelling now. All the frustration of the last few days came bubbling out. “Why don’t you trust me?”

Alex opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again. “Of course I trust ye. It’s just that...ye wouldnae understand.”

Bree folded her arms over her chest. “Try me.”

Alex stared at her for a moment and she could almost see the thoughts churning behind his eyes. His expression was unreadable. Then he spun around and stared out over the river with his arms crossed.

He said nothing and Bree began to think he wouldn’t reply when he finally said, “If ye know the truth ye will hate me, Bree. I couldnae bear that.”

She walked closer, until she stood within an arm’s length of his back. ”Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

He shook his head. “Ye dinna understand. Whatever man ye thought I was, ye were wrong. I am not worthy of yer regard. I’m not worthy of anyone’s regard.”

Bree said nothing.

After a moment he let out a long breath. “The woman who attacked me in the village is called Rina. She called me murderer because she blames me for the death of her son, Patrick. And she’s right. If it weren’t for me, he would still be alive.”

He gazed out over the river for a long moment.  “The reason I was banished from my clan was because I joined a rebellion. Lord Donald’s rebellion. He is the son of the Earl of Caithness and a finer warrior ye could not have met. He was inspiring back then and talked about how our ancestors had lost their lands along the border to the Sassenachs. He talked about how we should take it back. For any young warrior with a thirst for battle and not enough sense, they were grand words. Mighty words that promised glory. Lord Donald claimed we could recapture land from the English, that it would be easy and that we would lead Scotland to glory again as our ancestors did. I think he fancied himself another Robert Bruce or William Wallace. But the king outlawed his rebellion. Neither the king nor any of his barons wanted war with England.

We went anyway, of course. Lord Donald convinced us that the king would come to see things our way once we won our first battle and took back what was rightfully ours from the Sassenachs. My laird forbade me to go but I didnae listen and instead I stole the Murray medallion and sold it to help fund our campaign. I would win more than enough riches to replace it, I reasoned.

It didnae quite work out that way. We were met on the border, not by an English force, but by a Scottish one. The king’s own soldiers stopped us, returned us to Edinburgh where we were tried as traitors. They were not gentle with us and a skirmish broke out. That’s when Rina’s son was killed. He only joined Lord Donald because I persuaded him. He was barely sixteen and he died because of me. I should have hung. I would have hung, if not for the intervention of Lord Donald’s father. Some call the Earl of Caithness the kingmaker and he has the king’s ear. He convinced him to commute our sentences on the grounds that we had not rebelled against our sovereign but only against the Sassenach enemy.”

He laughed bitterly. “So, far from returning home triumphant as I envisaged, I came home with my tail between my legs, like a beaten cur. Laird Merith banished me for betraying my clan and she was right to do so. I joined Lord Donald in exile, became one of his warriors. That has been my life. Guarding Lord Donald’s lands, collecting rent from his tenants—terrorizing them when they dinna pay on time. We called ourselves soldiers, warriors, but we were hardly that. Outlaws would be closer to it. Brigands. That is the man I am.”

Bree stepped forward and slowly reached out to trace one of his scars with the tip of her finger. The scarred tissue was puckered and hard. Alex shivered.

“How did you get these?” she asked softly.

“I didnae say the king allowed us to go unpunished,” he replied. “I was flogged in the square before Edinburgh castle. The rest I earned in one skirmish or another.”

Bree’s fingers moved across his scars almost of their own accord, gently tracing them.

Alex inhaled sharply then turned to face her, catching her hands in his. He was so close she had to crane her neck back to look into his face. “Ye shouldnae do that, lass.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, not feeling sorry at all. Touching Alex felt good. Really good.

He was breathing deeply, his chest heaving in great gasps, and there was a slight tremble where he gripped her hands. “So that’s it,” he whispered. “Ye have the whole of it now. Ye know what I really am.” His expression was wary as though he feared her response.

She looked into his eyes and felt her heart flutter in her chest. Warmth was spreading through her from his touch.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for trusting me with the truth. But it changes nothing.”

Puzzlement creased his brow. “What do ye mean?”

“I already know what kind of man you are. You’re the kind of man who risked his life to help me escape from Lord Donald. You’re the kind of man who came back here, risking your family’s wrath and that of people like Rina. For me.”

“I swore a vow.”

“Exactly. Don’t you get it? You did all those things because you swore to protect me. And you have, from the moment we arrived here. I’m safe. I’m happy. I feel...like I belong here. Because of you.”

His grip on her hands tightened. “Ye shouldnae be saying these things, lass.”

“Why not?”

“Because it gives me false hope. Hope that I can have what I most desire.”

His eyes caught and held hers. She couldn’t look away.

“It’s not false hope, Alex,” she whispered. “It’s real. Oh god help me, it’s real.”

He reached up with one hand and cupped her face. His skin, hard and calloused from all the years of wielding a sword, felt incredible as it brushed hers. He gently ran his thumb across her cheek, flicking a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Ye are so beautiful,” he breathed. “Kissed by fire. My beauty.”

His hand, she noticed, trembled slightly. She placed her hand over his where it cupped her face and leaned slightly into his touch. She could barely breathe for the sensation swelling in her chest. She couldn’t name it. She’d never felt it before. It was all consuming, a longing, a need, and an overwhelming euphoria. And it was caused by this man. By Alex. Her Alex.

She ran her hand up his arm, watching as her fingers glided over the dips and contours of his muscles until it came to rest on his chest over his heart. It was hammering as wildly as her own. He gasped, a sharp intake of breath that parted his lips.

“Breanne,” he breathed and there was a world of promises in that word.

She looked up at him, found his eyes gone dark with desire. She stepped closer, her chest brushing his, and Alex responded. His arms went around her, crushing her against him and his mouth came down on hers, hot and hungry.

The world seemed to explode, disappearing in a conflagration of desire. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck, tangling her fingers in his thick, luscious hair as she kissed him back. Her eyes slid closed and she opened her mouth, inviting him in. The kiss deepened and oh, Lord it felt so good. It felt like nothing she’d ever experienced. Alex’s arms around her were as strong as the roots of an oak tree, his chest where he pressed against her was as steady and sure as a rock face. And his lips... his lips were soft and warm, sending ripples of electricity shooting through her body.

Bree had no idea how long the kissed lasted. She had no idea how long they stood like that on the river bank, wrapped in one another’s arms. She lost all track of time. Hell, she lost track of everything except this man and this moment.

But eventually Alex broke the kiss and held her, forehead pressing against hers as he looked into her eyes. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The look in his eyes said it all.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace. Bree held him close, loving the feel of his bare skin under her fingers, reveling in the sensation of his strong arms held protectively around her. She felt safe. So safe. She knew Alex would always protect her. She wasn’t sure when it had happened or how it happened but he had become her rock, the foundation that she relied upon.

He gave her an impish, almost shy smile that melted her heart. “Come, we had better be getting back before people start gossiping about our absence.”

Let them gossip, she thought. I don’t care. I want to stay here with you. But she nodded.

Alex snatched up his linen shirt and quickly pulled it over his head before retrieving his sword from the river bank. He held his hand out to Bree who took it. Alex curled his fingers around hers, his hand so much bigger than hers, and smiled at her. Bree grinned back. She couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

Hand in hand they made their way back to Dun Carrick.