automatically, leaving her to grab onto

ly on all sides. Crispen fidgeted so hard in the saddle tha

emporary crossing, Alan

t. You follow di

way. In some ways, this was more frightening to her than arriving at Duncan Cameron’s keep

eat shout went up, and it took her a moment to realize that it was Alan who’d made the s

thrust their swords skyward and took up the cry,

run, his hair flying behind him as h

crambled out of the saddle b

man she assumed was Crispen’s father. Her stomach knotted, and sh

ow she could think it, when there was so much joy on his face as he swung

low their shoulders, and both wore braids. As she looked around, though, it became a

ee you, lad,” his

small arms, reminding Mary of a bu

ardened. He took in every detail about her, she was sure, and she tw

everyone around her was dismounting, but Alan was there, his hands reachin

d. “You’re healing well,

ame scowl he always wore when he looked at her. Irritated, she scowled ri

s out of his arms and back on the ground. She found herself ba

assing her as if she were invisi

ing my son home. I had every

throat and nudg

k for Crispen’s return. I

erce orbs she’d thought, but rather they were an odd pale green. When he scowled, though, his face d

laird, who could blame her?—she turned abruptly and stared up into Alan’s eyes. He blinke

e green, too,

rn. “Are you sure you didn’t suffer a bl

ok at me,” E

king an instinctive step back and

ver, but she was too worried about Edw

tion not to feel pain, not to allow her sp

des, making her gasp softly with each breath. Sweat beaded her f

e be grateful to her for saving his son? Not that she’d really done anything heroic, but