Page 93 of The Laird's Masked Desire
Domhnall glanced toward the broken gate again. Three more figures were pushing through the passage. He felt that familiar calm settle into his bones. Battle had always done that. It stripped the world down to simple truths.
Protect the castle. Kill the men who threaten it.
“Hold the corridor,” he ordered.
Cameron nodded once. “Aye.”
The next man charged. Domhnall stepped forward to meet him. Steel rang sharply in the smoke-thick air as the fight pressed deeper into the inner passageways of Inveraray.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The upper hall of Inveraray had never been so loud. Margaret had barely reached it when the noise from the courtyard below rolled through the stone corridors. There were shouting men, the distant clash of steel, and somewhere beneath it all, the terrible crackle of fire.
Smoke drifted faintly through the high windows. The alarm horn sounded again.
Thomas hurried ahead of her up the final stair and pushed open the heavy doors of the upper hall. Inside, chaos had already broken out.
Women gathered their children with hurried hands. Servants rushed back and forth with blankets, bundles of clothing, and whatever provisions they could carry. The older children clung to their mothers while the younger ones cried openly. A guard stood near the far archway, directing people toward the rear corridor that led to the hidden evacuation passage beyond the castle wall.
Margaret stepped inside. Thomas turned immediately.
“Me lady, ye must remain here.”
Margaret glanced around the hall. Remain here?
The air was thick with fear. Children were crying. Servants were struggling to move frightened families toward the narrow exit passage.
She turned back to Thomas. “And dae what?”
“Stay safe,” he said, fearing that was not the right answer.
Margaret raised a brow. “Safe?”
“Aye. The laird ordered it.”
She folded her arms. “Yer laird is currently fighting men who have invaded this castle.”
“That is precisely why ye must remain out of danger,” he reminded her.
Margaret shook her head once. “I have nay intention of hiding in a chamber while the household is under attack.”
“Me lady?—”
But she had already stepped past him. Thomas stared after her in disbelief. Margaret crossed the hall quickly toward the frightened group gathering near the corridor entrance. One of the women struggled to lift a heavy bundle while keeping hold of a crying child.
Margaret reached her first.
“Here,” she said gently, reaching for the boy. “Give him tae me.”
The woman blinked. “Me lady?—”
“Go. The passage is that way.”
The woman nodded quickly and hurried toward the archway. Margaret shifted the small boy into her arms. He clung to her neck immediately, burying his face against her shoulder.
“Hush,” she murmured softly. “Ye are safe.”
Another child ran past them, with tears streaking his cheeks. Margaret caught his sleeve.
