way to her betrothed and slaughtered everyone save Genevieve. He was obsessed with her and kept her imprisoned at his keep until the Montgomerys and Armstrongs attacked and killed him.”
The woman beside Laird McInnis gasped and put her hand to her mouth in horror.
“And you?” the laird asked, looking sharply at Bowen. “What role do you play in all of this?”
“I saw a woman sorely abused,” Bowen said quietly. “I bore her back to Montgomery Keep, where I could be assured of her well-being and care, and I sent word to you so that you would know that she lives.”
“Lachlan, ’tis enough talk,” the woman said sharply. “I would see my daughter at once. It’s been a year since I last held her, and I’ve spent the past year in hell thinking her dead. Surely you can converse with the Montgomerys once we’ve seen for ourselves the welfare of our daughter.”
Lachlan sighed. “You are right. I am anxious to see her as well.”
He glanced up at Graeme. “With your permission, Laird, I would enter your keep so that I may be reunited with my daughter. We’ve traveled hard these past days. We left the moment we received word that she was alive.”
Graeme inclined his head. “Of course. I would extend an invitation to you and your lady wife for rest and refreshment.”
Lady McInnis climbed from the litter, and Lachlan extended his arm to assist her. One of his men aided her and she was boosted into the saddle with the laird.
Graeme and Bowen turned and led the way through the gate into the courtyard, Laird McInnis and his wife close on their heels.
Graeme and Bowen dismounted, and Bowen went to assist Lady McInnis down from the horse. Laird McInnis’s feet hit the ground, and the air practically vibrated with expectancy.
Bowen was about to send word to Genevieve that her parents had arrived when he looked up and saw her standing in the doorway to the keep.
Her face was deathly pale, and her eyes large in her face. The scar was even more pronounced against such paleness, and it made her look even more fragile.
“Mama? Papa?” she whispered.
Lady McInnis and the laird whipped around at the sound of her voice. Lady McInnis went as white as Genevieve, and to Bowen’s surprise, a look of anguish filled the laird’s face and tears gathered in his eyes.
“Genevieve!” Lady McInnis exclaimed.
And then they were both running, Genevieve and her mother. They met at the bottom of the steps, and Lady McInnis enfolded Genevieve in her arms, holding her as if she’d never let go.
The laird joined them, folding them both in his beefy embrace. He held them so tightly that Bowen wondered if either could breathe. There was such joy that it permeated the air around them. No one could look upon them and not be deeply moved by the emotional reunion.
“You did a good thing, Bowen,” Graeme murmured.
Bowen sucked in his breath and then turned his stare on his brother. “If I did such a good thing, why does it feel as though my heart has been torn from my chest?”
Graeme grimaced and put his hand on Bowen’s shoulder, squeezing in silent sympathy.
Genevieve stood surrounded by her mother and father, her heart nearly bursting as they hugged and kissed her. Her mother openly wept, and the big gruff laird, her father, looked as though he battled his own tears.
She clung to her mother, soaking up the warmth that only a mother’s embrace could provide. How long had she grieved for her mother? She thought never to see her again, or to see her smile. Or to simply enjoy the love and affection that flowed so freely within her clan.
“Oh Genevieve,” her mother whispered brokenly. “My heart has been restored.”
“Come here and give your papa a hug,” her father said in a gruff voice thick with emotion.
She went into her father’s embrace and he picked her up, just as he used to do when she was a child, and spun her around.
“My daughter is returned to us!” he shouted.
Just outside the walls, a roar went up from the assembled army and echoed across the hillside. It went on and on until Genevieve laughed as he spun her around again.
“My baby,” her mother said, pulling her once more into her embrace when her father set her down.
Her father turned to where Bowen and Graeme stood, while her mother held her tightly, as if afraid Genevieve would disappear if she let go.
“I owe you a debt