Page 103 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
His man-at-arms was entirely still, waiting for his next command.
“Ye think I am a fool, I take it,” Callum said slowly, as Alexander’s eyebrows raised.
“Nay, M’Laird, I have never thought ye were a fool in yer life.”
“Yet I have allowed her to leave. Ye wouldnae have done it.”
Alexander leaned his head to one side. “Ye dae as ye see fit.”
“Stop placatin’ me, man.”
The man-at-arms stepped up to the desk and fixed Callum with a long stare.
“What dae ye want, M’Laird?”
Callum set his jaw. “I want me wife and me children back.”
Alexander gave a slow smile. “Then go and get them.”
“Aye,” Callum said, glancing down at the desk and the papers piled high on all sides. “But before I dae, I need ye to find somethin’ for me.”
Callum left Alexander to manage the castle, guards at every door in case McCarthy chose to attack while he was gone.
With every thundering step of Seamus’ hooves, Callum felt certainty pulsing through his veins. He had two things to achieve—to save the girls and to get Lydia to come home.
She belongs with me.
He felt foolish for not having recognized his feelings before now. Women had only ever been good for one thing—ruining a man and driving him mad.
Yet, little by little, he had begun to see how different Lydia was from the twisted picture he had created in his mind. She was kind, generous, and loving. She had embraced her life in the Highlands, throwing herself into everything she did.
As he rode across the moorlands, he was flooded with moments they had shared, the smiles she had sent his way, her laugh.
He spurred Seamus forward, hands tightening on the reins.
I will get her back. I have to.
But first, he had to save the girls from the clutches of their own mother.
As he galloped across the border of his lands into McCarthy’s, he banked left, sending Seamus into a copse of trees and the edges of the forests.
It was early afternoon, and as evening approached, the storm clouds that had threatened were still looming on the horizon. He welcomed the prospect of rain. It would be more difficult to be seen in the midst of a storm.
He slowed Seamus to a walk, watching the glint of steel along the battlements of the castle as the guards moved about their posts.
Callum assessed their defenses. His plan to arrive at dawn and take them by surprise would no longer be possible—but the other part of his plan was still possible if he was stealthy and careful.
Tying Seamus’ reins to a tree branch, he dismounted, keeping his sword close to his side as he walked through the trees.
There was every chance that McCarthy had men in the woods, and he did not want to give away his position before he was ready.
A smile flitted over his lips as he recalled what Lydia said about women being taught to fight. He did not doubt that if she weregiven some skill with a blade, she would defeat most of the men in McCarthy’s employ to get to those girls.
He stopped, just at the edge of the tree line, looking up at the high walls ahead of him. The castle was surrounded by a moat, lily pads fanning out across the surface like a carpet of tangled roots and leaves, and tiny, spiked white flowers.
Above him, windows were facing outward on the McCarthy lands, but no lights glowed there just yet. The sun was fading, and slowly, he moved out from his position and ran, keeping his body bent double as he reached the edge of the moat.
Sliding down the bank, he slipped into the freezing water without making a sound. Keeping his movements slow and controlled, he swam across the short stretch of water. The bottom was barely deep enough to prevent him from standing.
