Page 18 of His Runaway Bride
That night Ewan and Lileas slept more peacefully than they had in months.
***
Chapter 8: Fire and Steel
The third and finalnight of their journey found them camped along the rugged coastline that marked the outer boundaries of MacNeil territory.The keep was now less than a day's ride inland, but Ewan had chosen to make their final camp here beside the sea, wanting to give Lileas one last peaceful night before the responsibilities of being lady of the keep began in earnest.
"It's beautiful," Lileas breathed, watching the waves crash against the rocky shore in endless rhythm.
"Aye," Ewan agreed, standing close behind her as they watched the sun sink toward the western waters."This has always been one of my favorite places.I wanted ye to see it before we reach the keep."
Patrick and Grant had built their fire in the shelter of a small cave that faced away from the wind, and their sleeping area was arranged just outside the cave mouth where they could enjoy the sound of the waves while remaining sheltered.
As they settled down for the night, wrapped once again in Ewan's plaid and sharing the warmth of their bodies, Lileas reflected on how much had changed in just three days.The shy uncertainty of their first night seemed like a distant memory now.She nestled against Ewan's chest with easy familiarity, her head tucked beneath his chin as his arms encircled her.
"Tomorrow we'll be home," he murmured against her hair, his voice carrying both anticipation and something that might have been nervousness.
"Are ye worried about how yer clan will receive me?"she asked softly.
"Nay," he said firmly."They'll accept ye because I said so."
She smirked."Aye, and yer word is law?"
"Always," he replied with a grin.
They drifted off to sleep lulled by the eternal song of the sea.
***
DAWN WAS BREAKING GRAYand cold over the water when the attack came.
Lileas was jolted awake by an almighty roar of rage.Ewan's voice raised in a battle cry that seemed to shake the very stones around them.Her eyes snapped open to find him already on his feet, sword in hand, facing half a dozen mounted figures who had approached their camp in the pre-dawn darkness.
"Fergusons!"he bellowed, his voice carrying a fury that made her blood run cold."Ye dare much, coming onto my lands!"
The lead rider, a giant of a man with cold, calculating eyes, laughed harshly."Yer lands for now, MacNeil.But we've come for what should belong with our clan."
