Page 128 of The Laird's Masked Desire
“She is there,” she said, more to herself than to him.
Domhnall did not answer. He had seen it as well. They approached and the door opened before they reached it. Eleonor was standing in the threshold.
For a moment, neither sister moved.
“Margaret…”
The name broke whatever distance remained.
Margaret dismounted even before her horse had fully stilled, crossing the small space between them without thought, without care for propriety or restraint. They met as sisters did: fully, without hesitation and without the careful composure Margaret had carried for so long.
“Ye are well,” Margaret said, though her voice caught slightly despite herself.
“I am,” Eleonor answered, drawing back just enough to look at her. “And ye…”
“I am well, too.”
It was not untrue. But it was not enough. There was no time to soften what had to be said.
“We cannae remain,” Margaret said quietly, though the urgency beneath her tone was unmistakable. “Ye and Stephen must leave, at once.”
“What has happened?” a familiar voice asked, and only then did Margaret see her sister’s husband behind her.
Margaret smiled, although there was no time for proper introductions.
“He kens,” she said, addressing them both. “Faither kens where ye are.”
Eleonor’s breath stilled.
“How…”
“It daesnae matter,” Margaret replied gently, though her hand tightened around her sister’s. “What matters is that he has threatened ye. Both of ye.”
At that, Stephen stepped forward. “We willnae be taken easily.”
Margaret believed him, but belief was not enough.
“Ye willnae be taken at all,” she answered. “Because ye willnae be here when he comes.”
Domhnall had already begun to move. While Margaret spoke, he and Cameron conferred quietly with the guards, in low voices. Orders were given without delay. Men were dispatched to prepare horses, to gather what supplies could be spared.
There was no confusion, and no hesitation, only action.
“Me husband has arranged it,” Margaret said, glancing briefly toward Domhnall before returning her attention to her sister. “Ye will go north, farther than ye had planned. There are routes, safe ones, and ye shall have papers that will allow ye passage without question.”
Eleonor’s eyes widened with disbelief.
“Ye have thought of everything.”
“Nay,” she smiled, glancing again at Domhnall. “He has.”
Domhnall returned then, with a small purse already in hand, along with folded documents sealed and prepared.
“Ye will take these,” he said, addressing Stephen directly, his tone leaving no room for refusal. “Coin enough tae see ye through, and papers that will carry ye beyond reach. There are men who will ride with ye, discreetly. They willnae be seen unless needed.”
Stephen accepted them with a firm nod.
“Ye have me gratitude.”
