“’Tis important she is no’ recognized.” Grant tried to keep some of the bite out of the words, but the man should realize by meeting her here it put Isobel in danger, and the rebel leader needed to know he wasn’t going to allow it again.
Alex nodded. “Aye, and I think yer plan is a good one. The more she is seen about as the lady she is, the less likely anyone is to believe she ever fought with us.”
A barmaid approached, but Grant shooed her away. Damn, he was trying to meet with Parliament and didn’t need to be seen with this man, either.
“Why did she join yer group?”
“She came for her own reasons and then stayed to protect Stew. She is no’ like the rest of us.”
“How is that?” Folding his arms across the table, he leaned in.
“She was no’ fighting for the cause. There is something deeper she never shared with me.” Alex shrugged.
“Who’s Stew?”
“A lad we saved after his family had been slaughtered by some of Argyll’s men. He had no home, so he stayed by my side. Isobel watched over him.”
Grant didn’t have time to think over Isobel’s actions as he faced down the man in front of him, but he was thankful to hear Stew wasn’t another man after her affections.
“Do ye ken where we can find this Torsten Campbell?”
“Aye. I’d go after him myself, if there wasnae some business I have to look into.”
“Where? I want to make him an offer.”
“He is a Campbell. Ye cannae trust him.” The man lounged back in his chair, lifting his cup and taking a swig of what was probably ale. “Ye shouldnae go after him. Meet him on neutral ground, but prepare to be ambushed. I’ve no’ heard nice things about him.”
“Can ye get word to him?”
“Aye. But under one condition. Ye keep Isobel away from him and whatever men he brings. She will want to try to take them out on her own, but I’m certain she couldnae face them all.”
“Agreed. I dinnae want her anywhere near danger or the life ye have helped her lead. She is done with this business.”
“I hope so. She deserves better. Keep her on Skye where she’ll be safe.”
Realizing Alex and he wanted the same thing for Isobel, he relaxed. How was it Grant had so much in common with a criminal?
After discussing a plan to get Torsten Campbell to the northern part of the Cameron lands, across the water from Skye, Grant gave Alex the letter he’d penned, confident he had an ally in Alex Gordon, at least where Isobel’s safely was concerned. After his initial shock of finding them here, he was surprised he was coming to respect the man. He’d never thought it possible, but here he was discussing his wife, Scotland, and religion with the infamous head of the Royalist Resistance. And it turned out, although their methods were different, they wanted many of the same things.
Satisfied, Grant pushed back from the table with one thing in mind—it was time to inform Isobel he would not tolerate clandestine meetings with other men or her participation in Royalist Resistance activities.
Chapter Fourteen
Grant took a deep, calming breath before inserting the key and unlocking the door to the room they had rented. Isobel paced like a caged bird looking for an escape.
“Yer behavior is unacceptable,” he said.
She stopped and peered at him with eyes as sharp as the sword she probably wished to use on his throat. “Ye have nae right to lock me in this room.”
“I do and I will as long as ye cause trouble, wife.” He had to admit despite the malice that dripped from his tone, he was doing a fine job of not losing his temper.
Sighing, she pivoted and stomped toward the window, keeping her back to him; the only sign of any remorse was her silence.
“Why did ye feel it necessary to sneak away from my men and put yerself in danger?”
Twirling back to face him, she blurted, “I didnae put myself at risk.”
“Aye, ye did. There will be no more meetings with anyone from that rebel group. Ye are done with them.”
“I was just trying to find out how to get to the Campbell man. I cannae leave until I’ve taken out that threat.”
“Ye will let me deal with him, and I will never catch ye somewhere alone with another man.”
Damn, he was jealous. He’d expected her to do something foolish on this trip—stab someone, cause a fight, obstruct Parliament, but those would have been expected. It had bothered him, no, it had hurt, to see her sitting alone at a table with a man who was not him.
After crossing the room, he coiled his arm around her and drew her into his body. “Ye belong to me.” His lips crashed down on hers, hoping to wash away the memory of any other man who might have been lucky enough to kiss her, wanting to make her forget the rebels she’d fought with and the man who had taken her in and kept her safe. He wanted to be the one to protect her.
Isobel’s mouth opened to him, and his tongue swirled in as her body melted into his. Sighing, she slid her hands around his sides and held onto him as if she trusted him to guard her. He could never give her his heart, but she was his and he’d never let anything happen to her—this threat had to be taken care of. Hopefully, Torsten Campbell was a man of reason, but he’d take Alexander Gordon’s advice and stay vigilant.
He drew her in closer, increasing the urgency of their embrace. Just the thought of something happening to her crushed his chest.
Before long, they were a tangled heap of naked limbs, sated and calm. Rolling off of Isobel, he came to rest on his elbow beside her and traced his fingers along her still fevered flesh.
Her gaze met his. “How did it go at the meeting?”
“I didnae get the chance to speak. They ended early today.”
“I’m sorry. I ken how important this is for ye.” She seemed sincere. Her words fueled a hope that maybe she could change, and that he had the chance to tame her savage side. If he could do that, surely he could sway Parliament.
“I’ll try again tomorrow, but I was hoping we’d be on our way back to Skye soon.”
“Do ye miss it, then?”
“Aye, I do, and one day ’twill be a home ye miss, too.”
A sad smile spread across her lips.
“I bet even now, yer cat is wondering where ye are and when ye are coming home.”
“Surely by now it’s found a new home.”
“And why would anyone give up getting to wake with ye in their bed?” He trailed his fingers in circles on her arm.
“Do I please ye?”
“Aye.” Why would she think she didn’t?
Her gaze shifted away as color rose to her cheeks. “I am happy I do so,” she said.
As confident as the lass was in battle, she had a side of her that was timid. It was an odd contradiction, and he felt honored she let him see her vulnerable side. But why was it there? Had someone hurt her in the past?
“I have something for ye.” He reached for the cloth that sat on the nightstand.
“I dinnae need anything else.” She sat up and pulled the covers to cover her chest.
“But I want ye to have this. I bought it before I went to Parliament.” Although he’d not been eager at the beginning of their relationship, he was pleased with her for a wife.
He unwrapped the cloth to reveal a band with a small, square-cut blue stone in the middle. Taking her left hand, he slid it onto her finger. Some odd emotion washed over him; it just felt right.
The fit was perfect, and it looked like he’d chosen wisely. Isobel’s hand shook as she inspected it, and he thought her eyes misted.
“Thank ye,” she said as she dropped the blankets and wrapped her arms around him. It was the first time they’d held each other that had nothing to do with bed play, and he liked it. He returned the embrace.
For the first time since seeing her face at the end of the aisle in the chapel where they’d been wed, he thought they had a chance at making their marriage about something more than bed play for producing heirs.
> They declined taking the late meal with the others in the common area. On top of keeping her hidden away, Grant wanted to keep her naked and in his arms.
The next morning, he climbed from the bed and dressed to make his way to the Kirk. He wished for nothing more than to finish his mission and return home. He didn’t want to hear men talking ceaselessly of how Scotland was better off with one religion, unified under what they believed was the right way for everyone to worship. He believed all men and women should be allowed to make their own choices.
After thoroughly kissing his wife, he left her some coins and bounded downstairs to talk to his men. “Take care and dinnae let her out of yer sights today.”
“What if she wants to try on a garment or two?” Ian gave him a sly smile and continued, “I’d be more than happy to accompany her.”
“If she wishes to try something on, it can be done when I return. Better yet, if ye can talk them into coming back here and doing something where she’s no’ out in the public eye, do it. Maybe get her and Annis a deck of cards to play up in the room.”
“I’ll try, but I dinnae ken if she’ll go for it.”
“Try anyway.” And he trudged down the street, hoping for the best.
Hours later, he made his way back to the inn. The Scottish Parliament had denied the Royalist clans’ demand they dissolve any agreement with the English Parliament against the king. Scotland was going to sign the Solemn League and Covenant and become involved in the English Civil War.
He wished for nothing more than to collect his wife and friends and head home.
Just as he breached the door of the establishment, Boyd and Owen came trotting down the stairs, Boyd’s face flushed red with exertion as if the man had been running.
Dread pierced his lungs when he realized something was wrong.
…
After Grant left, Annis was again waiting to tie Isobel up in an overly full, deep-blue confection of layers. Today, she didn’t bother looking in the mirror. Grant seemed to find her attractive, and he was the only one who mattered. She had to admit, she felt more feminine in the garments and was becoming more tolerant of the restrictive nature of the bindings.
She stared down at the lovely ring her husband had given her and wondered if he knew the color of the stone matched his bonny eyes. She’d not expected such a gift from him, and she hoped it was because he had changed his mind and was now pleased with her as a wife. Perhaps he no longer hated her. As she stroked the token from Grant, for the first time, she acknowledged, she wanted to be a wife he would be proud to have.
As Annis and she left the room to break their fast below, she scooped up the coins her husband had given her. She’d explained how she’d been able to sneak away from his men and had asked if she could return to make good on her word to the shopkeeper. Grant had seemed pleased she wanted to be honorable, as if he’d not expected it of her.
That was the other thing—she’d promised him she would stay out of trouble today and she intended not to disappoint him. It had been more than just anger she’d seen in his eyes yesterday. Although she could be wrong, it almost looked as if hurt was hidden in the sapphire depths of his gaze.
After buying stockings, she easily persuaded the men to return to the inn to share a meal and drop off her purchases. It was harder convincing them to get out of the city—Edinburgh was beautiful, but she wasn’t accustomed to the closed-in places and crowded city streets. Fresh air would do her good and staying away from the crowds would prevent her from doing something that might upset Grant.
In the end, Boyd and Ian agreed to escort Annis and her, while Owen stayed behind to rest because he had taken the night watch. Her husband was vigilant about seeing to the group’s safety. She smiled at the thought.
“Let’s go up there.” Isobel pointed to a tall hill. Really, it could have been a mountain, but she didn’t care. It was the first time she’d been able to truly breathe since coming to the city.
“That’s a long climb.”
“We dinnae have to go all the way to the top. Just high enough to look down on the city and the castle.”
The group was about half an hour into the trek when they rounded the side of the hill and lost their view of the city. They picked up the pace, since they were no longer afforded the view, but to her, this side with its view of the country was just as beautiful. She could see for miles and she understood why it was rumored to be one of the possible locations of the legendary Camelot.
Annis cried out behind her. Isobel spun and found her maid had collapsed to the ground and was reaching for her foot.
“I think I twisted my ankle.” The girl winced.
“Och. Let me have a look at it.” Kneeling down, she gently took her maid’s foot into her hand. It was already swelling.
“It hurts.” Annis inhaled sharply.
“Aye, I imagine it does.” The size of it worried her. Annis started to rise, but she placed a hand on the lass’s shoulder. “Nae, keep off of it.”
Standing, she glanced at Ian, the bigger of the two men. “Can ye get her on that rock so she is comfortable? I think our walk may be over.”
“Do ye want me to just carry her back?”
“Nae ’twill take too long and ’twill risk knocking her foot into something and making it worse.” She regretted asking them to take the smaller path that had been less traveled.
The two men exchanged looks, then Ian stepped forward to inspect Annis’s injury. They were apparently trying to decide what Grant would say if they split up or, worse yet, whether or not she was faking it in an attempt to try something foolish. “I amnae going anywhere. I swear.”
Their gazes studied her then returned to each other. Ian nodded his approval.
“I’ll go get a horse so she can ride back,” Boyd said.
“That will do. We’ll just wait here until ye return,” she said.
As Boyd took off running back down the trail, she focused on Annis. Diverting her from thinking about the pain, she asked, “What is the first thing ye will do when we get back home?”
“That’s easy. I’ll go visit Artie at the bakery.” Annis tried to hide it, but Isobel could hear the pain in the maid’s voice.
“Who’s Artie?” She’d not heard this name before.
“He’s the man I want to marry.”
Suddenly, Isobel felt guilty about pushing the girl away and not getting to know her.
The discussion continued until Annis adjusted on the rock and then winced.
“Try to keep it propped up. I’ve heard it helps with the swelling.”
“Have ye spent time with healers?”
“I’ve just helped escort hurt men to see them. ’Twas one of the tasks I was assigned when the leader of the Resistance didnae want me involved in a conflict.”
Despite all the skirmishes she’d been rumored to be involved in, mostly she’d been in charge of getting the wounded to safety. She had never complained, because she had been there to protect those who could not take care of themselves.
The first time she’d encountered the Resistance was after she’d seen smoke coming from a MacLean family farm. Upon arriving at the scene, she discovered that everyone had been murdered by a group of Covenanters traveling through her clan’s lands. She attempted to track the villains, but found Alex’s band along the way. She saw the chance meeting as her opportunity to finally help others.
Because of what had happened when her maid deserted her, her brothers had let her train with them in the lists. Alex saw that she was capable of defending herself when they’d been attacked by the same group who had murdered her clansmen. He’d not argued when she’d said she wanted to stay and help. Then she remained to help guard Stew. But now the lad had a home and it appeared she did as well, there was no reason to rejoin the Resistance. She had Annis to look after now.
“So ye didnae fight in every battle?”
“Nae, but I’ve run a blade through my share of men. Only when I needed to, and it was
always to keep others safe. But I did practice every day, so I was quite handy with a sword.”
“And who was it ye were there to protect?”
Unbidden, a vision of her last maid popped into her head. Ignoring the question, she gingerly probed the swelling and Annis winced. “Och, look at it, Annis. ’Tis twice the size it should be. Ye may no’ be walking for a while.”
A loud thwack sounded behind her, and she turned to see what Ian had done. Foot twisting in her skirt, she lost her balance and fell to her hands and knees. Pain shot through her palms where rocks dug into her hands, but it was nothing compared to the fear that pierced her heart when she saw Ian sprawled on the ground in front of her, blood escaping from an injury on his head.
Chapter Fifteen
Grant studied his friends’ worried faces as they rushed toward him. He clenched his fists. What had his wife done now? “Where is Isobel?”
Boyd and Owen glanced at each other before Boyd turned to him, looking resigned. “They’re on the hill.” His man pointed toward the large mound overlooking the town.
“What the hell is she doing there?” His temper rose. The last thing he wanted after the day he’d had was to have to track down his wife and get her out of some sort of trouble.
“’Tis no’ anything too bad. We went for a walk. Annis fell and twisted her foot. I came back to get the horses so she wouldnae have to walk on it.”
“All right then. Let’s go get them.”
“Were ye able to speak today?” Owen asked.
“’Tis no’ good news. I can tell by yer face.” Boyd frowned.
“They didnae want to listen to any of us.” He debated whether the men needed to know the rest and decided it would be for the best to be open. “They even tried to coerce me into signing the Covenants for the MacDonald clan.”
“Nae.” He could hear the sympathy and disappointment in Owen’s voice. Out of all the MacDonald men, Owen understood his quest for peace the most.
“For a few moments, I thought they were going to arrest all of the Royalists until our clans agreed to sign.”
Highland Obligation (Highland Pride) Page 12
