With great difficulty, Eadan kept his distance from Fiona for the rest of the day; it had taken everything in his power to stop himself from kissing her earlier.

When the next morning came, he reasoned that he needed to see her to find out how her meeting with Elspeth went, yet as he stepped out of his chamber, a servant intercepted him, handing him a letter.

"What’s this?" Eadan asked, puzzled.

"The steward asked me tae deliver it," the servant said.

Eadan took the note and dismissed his servant, stepping back into his chamber. He opened the letter, freezing when he read the message scrawled inside.

I know what Dughall’s planning. Meet me at the rear of the stables—now. Not safe to discuss in castle.

Eadan lowered the note, his heart thundering in his chest. He’d known the steward of the castle, Naoghas, since he was a lad—he'd served as steward of the castle when his father was acting laird. Naoghas was taciturn yet straightforward; it wasn’t like him to write Eadan a letter.

Why wasn’t it safe to discuss in the castle? Was there a traitor among his servants? Among his clan?

He made his way out of the castle and to the stables, trying to keep his expression neutral, though panic already flowed through his veins.

When he arrived at the stables, he found them empty.

“Naoghas?”

He looked around, but there was no sign of his steward. He entered the stables and froze.

In one of the empty stalls, splatters of blood stained the ground.

* * *

Eadan called for the stable boys and several of his servants, ordering them to search the grounds for Naoghas. But Eadan's instinct told him they wouldn't find him.

He returned to the castle, his chest tight with alarm. He found Ronan in his guest chamber and told him what happened.

“This was Dughall’s doing,” Eadan growled.

“Calm down,” Ronan cautioned, though his own expression had filled with fury.

“How can I? Naoghas must've somehow figured out whatever the bastard was planning, but Dughall had him killed. I think someone in the castle's working with Dughall. Naoghas said it wasn’t safe tae discuss in the castle.”

“Aye,” Ronan said, grim, “but we still need tae be careful. We cannae make any accusations without proof.”

“My steward may be dead,” Eadan snapped. “I’ve half a mind tae go tae Dughall and slice him through with my blade.”

“Do ye want another war? We need proof it was him,” Ronan returned.

“He’s already declared war,” Eadan bit out, but he knew Ronan was right. It would do no good to accuse Dughall without proof. He'd only mention the disappearance to the handful of nobles in his clan he trusted implicitly; they’d carry out their own investigation.

A part of him had hoped his instincts about Dughall were wrong, that he genuinely wanted peace. But if he’d killed Naoghas, Dughall was no man of honor, a man he wanted no affiliation with.

Fiona entered his mind, and panic coiled though him. Dughall didn’t want her here, that was clear. Would he try to harm her as well?

“I want a guard on Fiona. Osgar or Taran,” Eadan said, naming the two men of the clan he trusted. "She's not tae wander the castle grounds alone."

“Aye,” Ronan agreed. He reached out to grip Eadan’s arm, his voice wavering with emotion. “We’ll find Naoghas, dead or alive. And we'll bring the man who killed him tae justice.”

After arranging with Ronan a time and place where he could meet with a handful of his trusted men, Eadan left to find Fiona. Relief flowed through him when he found her in her chamber, gazing out the window. Without thinking, he moved toward her as she turned, pulling her into his arms. He held her for a long moment, relief and desire colliding in his chest.

“Eadan?” she asked, blinking in surprise as he released her. “Are you all right?”

He studied her, his heart pounding, but decided not to tell her about his missing steward. It was none of her concern and it would just worry her.

“I’m just glad tae see ye,” he said hastily. It was true; the sight of her was like the sun chasing away a foggy gloom. But he noticed that her brown eyes were filled with conflict. “What’s the matter?”

A renewed surge of fury flowed through him when she told him of her visit to Elspeth and her encounter with Magaidh.

“Eadan, I know you say she doesn’t care for you, but she seemed genuinely upset.”

“She doesnae,” he interrupted. “I’ve only seen hatred in her eyes since the betrothal was arranged, she’s keeping up appearances. It would seem odd if she didn’t act threatened by ye.”

But Fiona didn’t look so certain. She bit her lip, his gaze lingered on the sensual fullness of her mouth, arousal surging through him as he recalled how her lips felt against his. He averted his gaze, taking a step back from her.

“And that's not all. I spoke to your father,” Fiona said. “He asked me to watch out for you—in case anything happened.”

Eadan stilled, his mind whirring. So his father did suspect something was amiss. Did he suspect Dughall and Clan Acheson?

“Do you think—do you think your life is in danger?” Fiona asked, her eyes widening with worry.

“I doonae ken,” he said, “but I want ye to be safe going forward. If someone’s targeting me, they’re also targeting ye. I’m having a guard on yer door, and ye’re not to go around the castle grounds on your own.”

"Why?" Fiona breathed. “Eadan, has something happened?”

A knock on the door interrupted the moment, and Eadan was relieved for it; he didn’t want to drag Fiona further into this than she already was. How could he let her know she need not concern herself with his matters?

He recalled how Fiona told him of her love of painting. With everything that had happened, he'd forgotten to have the servants fetch her painting materials. Anything to keep her mind off troubles that need not worry her and put the light back in those lovely eyes.

"Nothing that concerns ye," he said finally, before going to the door and swinging it open, expecting to find Una.

But Ronan stood there instead, his expression grim.

"Dughall and his men are here," he said. "He wants tae see ye.”

Fury seized him; Dughall had the nerve to show up here after having his steward killed?

“Get Osgar tae stand by her door,” he said to Ronan, before turning to Fiona, giving her a regretful look. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

Eadan arrived in the hall, frowning with concern when he saw his father gathered with the other nobles. He wanted his father to rest more, not take part in meetings, especially ones which involved the snake Dughall.

Eadan gave Dughall and his men curt nods of acknowledgment before moving to his father.

“I’ll handle this,” he said in a low voice. “Ye need rest. The healer said—”

“While I’m still alive, I’m taking part in meetings,” Bran said, glowering at him. “I’m not dead yet, lad.”

Eadan sighed. His father was stubborn; there was no use trying to get him to leave.

He straightened, moving to the center of the room. He met Dughall’s eyes, who evenly returned his stare. Eadan clenched his fists at his sides, suppressing his fury.

“What’s the purpose of yer visit?” Eadan asked, trying to keep his tone cordial.

"I'm here on account of my daughter," Dughall snapped. “Yer wife paid her a visit, and threatened her."

The nobles began to mutter among themselves, and Eadan's fury rose. So that was why Elspeth had invited Fiona over for a visit; Elspeth and Magaidh had lured Fiona into a trap. And I encouraged the visit, he thought, with a stab of guilt.

"My wife," Eadan said, surprised at how easy it was to refer to Fiona as his wife, “was invited tae Elspeth's home. There, she was ambushed by Magaidh and Elspeth after she insisted she wanted nothing more than tae go on her way tae the nunnery. They threatened her; she defended herself."

"Are ye calling my daughter a liar?" Dughall demanded. "May I remind ye, 'tis yer future wife ye speak of?"

Never, Eadan thought, but held his tongue.

"Until my marriage is annulled, I'll not have my wife insulted—nor threatened."

“Bran, I think yer son has forgotten he’s betrothed tae my daughter,” Dughall seethed. "The laird still seems quite taken with this secret wife. He almost killed one of my men for merely complimenting her beauty. That tae me doesnae seem like a man who wants—”

“Leave Fiona out of this,” Eadan hissed. "I was defending her honor."

“I willnae,” Dughall returned, glaring at him. “I find it very convenient that she shows up, putting yer betrothal to my daughter on hold. Ye’re probably bedding the lass, filling her belly with yer bastard child.”

Eadan stepped forward, fury raging through him like a blazing fire, but Ronan put a restraining hand on his arm. Dughall's eyes narrowed.

“Ye have one month,” Dughall said, his voice tight with anger. “One month tae annul yer marriage and send the lass away. Then ye’ll honor the betrothal to Magaidh, or our clans are back at war."