Highland Persuasion (The MacLomain Series- Early Years)

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Highland Persuasion (The MacLomain Series- Early Years) Page 17

by Sky Purington


  Her heart skipped several beats. “Great love hurts long after ‘tis gone. You have no idea.”

  “You speak of the child you left behind.” Alexander breathed more harshly, his emotions rising. “You did that so that he would have a better life. You did what you felt right. ” He shook his head. “I can assure you that leaving behind this love we share will do me no good, nor you. ‘Tis an entirely different thing.”

  “Is it?” Iosbail touched his cheek. “This we share will do you only harm. You will age. I will stay young, at least for a while.”

  He shook his head. “I dinnae ken what you mean by a while?”

  It was only then as she looked into his eyes that Iosbail realized that it didnae matter how she felt about aging. She was in love with the Sinclair and whether or not they were together she would eventually grow old now. What amazed her was that she still felt the same way.

  Alexander deserved better.

  Like the child she left behind, Iosbail cared so greatly for him that she wanted him to be truly happy. How content could he ever be with a lass who stayed young while he grew old? He deserved to go through all those moments of life and aging with a woman who experienced the same.

  It would hurt terribly but this was for the best.

  “Nay,” she cupped his cheeks and kissed him softly, slowly and for the last time. When she pulled back, Iosbail said, “I will marry Innis.”

  Alexander looked at her for what seemed a very long time. His eyes turned dark, a muscle twitched in his cheek. “A mistake.”

  When he stood and strode to the fire, Iosbail felt that the world turned very fragile around her. It seemed in that moment that his very nearness had kept her strong and whole. Without his body close to her the air felt thin and sparse, not worth breathing.

  “A mistake,” he said again softly as he stared into the fire.

  “I’m so verra sorry, m’lady,” came a small voice from the door. “But they grow impatient below.”

  “Of course.” Iosbail stood, legs nearly buckling beneath her.

  “Are you well, m’lady?” the lass asked.

  Alexander turned and stood straight, ever the royal Scottish chieftain. He went to her and held out his arm. “Come, m’lady, the crowd waits.”

  Grateful for his support but heartbroken nonetheless she took his arm and allowed him to lead her out. They were nearly to the top of the stairs when she stopped. “I’ll go alone now. ‘Twould not be proper to allow you to escort me down.”

  Alexander’s expression grew stonier if possible. “Oh, but you see it is. Adlin annulled our marriage in his chamber not long before you arrived. I am but royalty escorting you to your new husband.”

  It felt as though her world snapped shut in an instant. Iosbail gasped and nearly tripped on her gown but Alexander swiftly kept her upright and led her down the stairs. There was no time to say more as the pipes trilled and the clansfolk cheered. All she could do was hold on tight to the Sinclair’s arm and pray for this eve to be over soon.

  How could he have said everything he did knowing they were no longer married?

  Foolish question. It hadn’t mattered to him. He’d offered her his heart and if she’d accepted, marriage or no, they’d find a way. In that he was a devoted Christian it told her so much about how he truly felt.

  If the MacLomain clan wondered why Alexander—who’d been imprisoned—was now in full royal attire and escorting their laird’s sister to her betrothal, they did not show it in the least. Then again, her brother’s clan always did see the good side of things.

  When they reached the bottom stair the Sinclair released her to Adlin’s waiting arm.

  As her brother steered her away from Alexander, Iosbail wasn’t overly shocked to see Shamus waiting for his friend. The Irishman tossed her a less-than-impressed look before he faded into the crowd. That simple glance turned her stomach more sour than it already was.

  The next thing she knew the crowd parted to reveal Innis waiting in front of the great hearth. As done up as Adlin and Alexander, the MacLeon laird wore his plaid of yellow and black. It was hard to believe they were cousins. He seemed so different than she and Adlin. Every step she took toward him felt heavier than the last. Whether it was because of the man she walked toward or the man she walked away from she couldn’t tell.

  “You can still turn from this,” Adlin said softly.

  Anger and pride made her response sharp. “Why when you so readily ended my marriage to the Sinclair.”

  “I did what you asked, sister.”

  “Aye, and quickly enough.”

  “What other way was there with Innis set to marry you this eve?”

  Iosbail detested his reasoning for no other reason than it wasn’t what she wanted. “I do this for you, brother, nobody else.”

  “Dinnae fool yourself, Iosbail. You do this for you.”

  Did she really expect her brother to be thankful? Nay. Adlin thought unlike anyone else. He acted and lived out his life far, far too differently.

  “You’re angry when you should not be,” he said, sensing her thoughts. “This decision is yours and yours alone.”

  Iosbail ground her teeth. He had the right of it. Still. “’Twould be nice if you favored this as sisterly love.”

  “As would it be if you favored all of this as brotherly love,” Adlin returned. “Do you really think I want you to marry the MacLeon?”

  It seemed Alexander and Adlin both liked to have their final say before handing her off to another man because next she knew Innis took her arm and Adlin faded away.

  Bloody hell!

  Between the MacLomain and Sinclair men she’d been made a mess.

  No Broun lassie should have to deal with such.

  Yet here she stood arm and arm with Innis ready to be married when she could be running in the opposite direction. A decision, as turns out, that would please everyone she cared about most. But as the holy man started to say his words, Iosbail was unable to move. Why?

  Fear.

  That same old fear.

  “Aye,” Innis said in response to the holy man’s question.

  Much like when she and Alexander were married, Iosbail tuned out all the words. They’d meant nothing then and meant nothing now. She closed her eyes in shame. What a thing to go through life and not care about the binds of marriage, especially if it suited what she hoped to accomplish. With Alexander it’d been pure revenge. With Innis it was pure escape.

  One way or another it was all done for the wrong reasons.

  “Well, lass, answer the question,” Innis said. “Will you take me to be your husband?”

  It should have never got this far. Iosbail opened her eyes, looked first at Innis then at the holy man before she said what was in her heart. “I already did take a husband and it was Alexander mac Donnchada, son of Malcolm III, Máel Coluim mac Donnchada and rightful heir to the throne of Scotland.”

  If there’d been a light flutter of activity in the great hall before it vanished with her words.

  Everything grew deadly silent.

  The holy man’s eyes rounded.

  Innis growled.

  Iosbail spun.

  Alexander still stood near the bottom of the stairs but she knew when their eyes locked that he’d heard every word. Her announcement barely registered with everyone before the doors to the hall burst open and several clansmen flooded in. MacLomain and MacLeon men alike were at arms. Iosbail’s eyes widened at the sight.

  King Edgar stood surrounded by warriors, rage evident and shook his head, screaming in fury at her across the room. “How dare you!”

  How dare she? What did he speak of? How was he here?

  The crowd stepped aside as he strode forward. Yet he was soon stopped when Alexander and Shamus blocked his path. Loathing in his eyes, he looked at Alexander. “You never should have escaped. A brother hidden away, protected. I never did see the point.”

  “Brother,” Alexander shook his head. “All along you knew who
I really was. Why try to kill me when you could embrace me?”

  Edgar snorted. “I’ve more use for the throne than my siblings do. The people,” he spat, “spoke too highly of you. A mere cousin!”

  “You feared a knife in your back from your own countrymen,” Alexander murmured. “You coward. Did it ever occur to you to try to win over your people? ‘Tis not a hard thing to show Scotsmen kindness. You’d be amazed at how they’d protect and love you for it.”

  “Nay, they’d only want land and protection,” Edgar spat.

  “Is that so wrong? You are their king.” Alexander shook his head. “’Tis no wonder you are so ill liked.”

  “Why should I protect those who dinnae even like me?” Edgar chuckled. “’Tis their duty to protect me.”

  “Then I see you’ve no hope with your people, Edgar.”

  “King Edgar to you!”

  “Nay.” Alexander shook his head. “You’re no king of mine.”

  “Then soon you’ll die along with your Broun whore.”

  “Try to kill me but never say another word against Iosbail.”

  Edgar chuckled low. “Ah, so she’s spread her legs for you has she?”

  Alexander’s fist shot out but Shamus stopped him, shaking his head. “’Tis his final hour, laddie. Be the good king you are as he falls.”

  The Sinclair frowned but lowered his arm.

  Only to have Shamus punch Edgar square in the face so hard he fell to his back.

  Iosbail rushed through the crowd and arrived just as Edgar stumbled to his feet. Alexander grabbed her hand before she could go further.

  “How are you here?” she asked.

  Edgar wiped the blood from his mouth and snarled at Shamus before looking at her. “Do you think me free from magic?” He shook his head, enraged. “But somehow my magic wasn’t enough. You all managed to evade my attack then vanish from Scotland. The next I knew you were here. You’ve powerful allies,” he muttered.

  Insanity lit his eyes when he looked at Iosbail. “And I’d planned it so verra well. Marry the Broun to the Sinclair then have them ambushed. It mattered not by who. If that didnae work bank on the Broun’s revenge to see the deed done.”

  Iosbail shook her head, confused.

  “Did you think to keep the Defiance all to yourself!” he roared, spittle shooting from his mouth. “Nay, I learned of it and did what needed to be done to set in action your rage, Broun. From all I’ve heard of you, you should have already brought Alexander to his knees in swift death.”

  Adlin came beside her eyes narrowed. “You went back in time and killed Nigell because you wanted Iosbail to seek revenge on the Sinclair’s. What an unfortunate and ugly way to twist time for your own goals. In fact, had you not gone back she would not have come forward to begin with. You created a time loop. And how lucky for you that she targeted Alexander.”

  “Aye, and I’d kill a thousand more Brouns if it meant truly enraging Iosbail because killing just one didnae seem to do it. Cold hearted bitch!”

  Not the gods nor the God could stop the fury of Alexander when he leapt on Edgar and wrapped his arms around the king’s neck. Squeezing tight he said, “I will kill you until you’re dead in not just this life but the next!”

  For the first time in her life, Iosbail was so stunned she couldn’t call on her magic if she wanted to. Focus was beyond impossible.

  But not for Adlin.

  Edgar’s body was whipped away from Alexander as the MacLomain chieftain stalked him, a calm deadly expression on his face. “You dare to invade my castle. You dare to invade so many lives.”

  As the Sinclair struggled against unseen bounds Adlin roared, “My people, leave now! ‘Twill be bloodshed!”

  Iosbail was caught between people fleeing from the hall even as warriors made ready for battle.

  Adlin looked over his shoulder at Alexander. “Take her from here. ‘Tis not a thing you need see and you, my king, need to survive it.”

  Alexander shook his head. “Nay. ‘Tis a thing I do need to see.”

  All but the last of the MacLomain clan had fled when Adlin said, “So be it.”

  Cursing her dress all the way Iosbail began to run for the far wall as battle broke out in the MacLomain great hall. It was only as she grabbed a sword from the wall did she realize that Edgar was powerful unto his own right as were the men he’d brought with him. After all, how else would he have managed to bring so many with him? Iosbail looked around the room as more and more Sinclair warriors poured in. Her heart broke anew as she watched Alexander’s sword clash with the first. What a terrible thing to fight one’s own clan.

  But she doubted that these were his men.

  Nay, they were brought by Edgar from the south.

  It was not a hard thing to see that the MacLeons fought alongside the MacLomains.

  Iosbail had no time to think further as a clansman ran at her. Instead of using magic like others, as was so clearly heard by the booms around the hall, she stuck to combat. When the clansman lurched at her she dropped and spun, running the blade across his side. As he fell she parlayed with another. Their swords clashed, his brute strength making her arms vibrate as she held the blade strong.

  Blood pounding through her veins, Iosbail let him drive her back then dodged away. With a wide smile on her face she cherished the fast retaliation he offered. Again he drove her back. Again she dodged away. She might not have brute strength but she had a light step and a love for fighting most men didn’t possess. When he again came at her she allowed herself to fall back, her arms shaking and trembling against his power. Just when a triumphant grin lit his face, that look when a man truly thought he’d had his way; she blocked his blade, arched her foot and kicked him as hard as she could in the crotch. Eyes round, an ‘o’ shape to his dry lips, Iosbail smiled and ran her blade up through his center as he fell forward.

  Rolling away, she jumped to her feet and ran for another weapon. Blessed be, the MacLomain’s always had weapons hanging here and there around their great hall. With a newly acquired small blade in hand she ran back into the mayhem of warring men.

  What a life!

  After she slashed her blade across one man’s face, Iosbail ran at another only to have him bend and grab her around the waist. Air rushed from her lungs as he slammed her to the ground. Stars flickered in her vision but Iosbail kept calm and alert. Just as the man’s blade met her neck he was pulled from her, his neck snapped.

  Shamus grinned and held down his hand. “Ready for some more fight, lassie?”

  With a hearty chuckle she allowed him to pull her to her feet only to have him pulled away by another warrior. Iosbail didn’t have a chance to make sure he was all right before another lad rushed at her. She smiled, ready, and threw her blade at his throat. It met its mark and he fell forward. She was about to seek out another weapon when Alexander appeared, two blades in hand, one of which he tossed to her. This time she released a full bodied laugh as they went back to back, surrounded by a fresh group of warriors.

  “So we meet again,” she said.

  “So we do,” he returned.

  There was no more time to talk as they began to fight. Iosbail stayed light on her feet and tried her best to keep the Sinclair at her back. Men fell but they battled on. Regrettably the fighting didn’t last much longer. Too soon did she find herself spinning to confront the next man only to find he was not there…no men remained but those who lay slain.

  Blood splattered, heart rushing, her eyes swept over the hall. The last sounds of battle echoed. She heard not the sound of victory but the last gasps and gurgles of men dying. The silent whimpers of men calling for their loved ones as death came to greet them. The sharp tang of sweat and blood met her nostrils, the decrement of waste as bodies released to death.

  Never before had she stood in the remnants of such a thing. She’d always fled.

  Iosbail started to shake.

  What had she done?

  Her blade suddenly fell from limp fin
gers.

  The hall expanded then shrunk. She staggered back against the wall and stared.

  It was hard to tell how much time passed or how long his voice had been saying, “Iosbail, are you well, my love.”

  She wiped a shaky hand across her face and looked at Alexander. “I dinnae think I’ve been well for a verra long time.”

  Though she knew she wasn’t going to faint because she was a wizard after all, when he pulled her into his arms Iosbail took his support and held on tight. When tears fell she held on tighter to her Norseman, her Pict. Because only such a strong man of body and mind could get her through all she felt now. His large hand cupped the back of her head and his hard body offered an impenetrable wall of protection.

  “Alexander,” she whispered against his chest. “I’m done with this as of this moment.”

  All her long life she’d loved a good battle but now, here, in the MacLomain great hall she felt something shift inside her. Though it made no real sense she felt more one with the Earth than ever. Aye, she was pagan, but it was more than that.

  “Of course, lass,” he said.

  Though the tremors rocked her body she sensed he wasn’t quite as genuine as he could be. She pulled back and looked up into his face. “I mean it. ‘Tis terrible this.”

  He put her head against his chest again, his deep voice rumbling. “You’ve had your heart well and truly broken this eve, lassie. If ever a warrior stood amongst all those he’d sent to death and not felt respect for their departure from this life, then ‘twas not a battle well fought.”

  Iosbail closed her eyes, felt the heat of him against her cheek and focused on breathing.

  “I wasnae sorry when I did it… had to be done.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “But it hurts now, more than ever before.”

  “Aye, lass, aye.” He stroked her hair. “These feelings will pass but you will take from them what you need.”

  It was hard to imagine what. Could she honestly say she’d never kill again? No. Only it was hard to say what life would offer and who she’d be defending. What Alexander was trying to tell her was to never change who she was but maintain compassion in her darkest hour. She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes, breathing in not the scent of death but that of his skin.

 

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