by Sondra Grey
She was startled from her thoughts by a knock on the door. Isla hurried and tucked herself into bed before calling out, “Enter!”
She was expecting Mrs. Allan, but instead it was Moira, one of the village women who worked in the kitchens.
“I’m so sorry to bother you milady, especially as I know you’re feeling unwell, it’s just…” Moira was crying and Isla sat up, intent.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s my son. He’s been so sick and nothing we can do will help him. I’d take any suggestions, Milady, anything you might recommend that could help.”
“Better than that,” said Isla, standing. “I will see your boy myself. Allow me a few minutes to dress and we will leave.”
Isla refused to call for her lady’s maid. Instead, she dressed herself, fixed her own hair, and grabbed her bundles of herbs and salves. Putting on a heavy cloak to ward off the cold, she followed Moira out of the castle, and off towards the village.
Moira, who was a few years Isla’s elder, was a small woman who was usually quiet. Now she couldn’t stop talking, couldn’t stop thanking Isla for coming to see her son.
The boy, it turned out, was actually quite ill, and Isla fell into her healer’s role with little trouble. It took only an hour, but Isla felt like her old self again. She took complete control of the situation, ordering Moira to boil water for tea, checking the boy for symptoms, placing a cool cloth on his head, and waiting to see if his fever would break. It was full nightfall, and the boy was still feverish when someone pounded on the door of the small cottage.
The sound startled the two women, who’d been sitting over the small boy’s bed, Moira telling Isla soft stories about village life, and some of the local hill legends.
The knocking came again and Moira stood, slowly. “Will it be Joseph then?” she wondered to Isla. Her husband had ridden to Inverness to find medicines for the boy’s fever.
But when she opened the door, Isla heard her muffle a gasp. Turning, Isla saw Calum stoop through the door, and though she was still hurt that he’d left her, hurt that he’d spent a month away and not written, she was so happy to see him. His presence made her feel instantly warmer, safer than she’d felt in the month without him there.
Calum’s eyes swept the small cottage and landed on Isla, seated on the side of the boy’s bed. “Isla,” said Calum, his voice was hard and he looked grim.
“Hello,” said Isla, quietly.
“Did Hugh not tell you that we’d company this evening?”
“He told me, yes,” she said. “But Moira’s boy is very ill, and the housekeeper had the castle well in hand.”
Calum stared at her a moment before nodding a greeting to Moira, who stood near the door quietly. “Moira,” he said, formally. “I do hope your boy is feeling better. But I must take my wife with me now. The hour is very late.”
“Of course…”
“His fever isn’t broken yet, and I’d like to stay until I’m sure he’s going to be all right,” said Isla, firmly.
“Isla,” Calum’s voice was a low warning, and Isla turned to look at him over her shoulder. He was, she saw, furious. He’d been exasperated with her on occasion, annoyed once or twice, but never furious. Now he seemed to radiate anger, and Isla felt her heart drop into her stomach. He knew. Somehow, the Stewarts had found out about her and told him.
Cold fear gripped her gut and she was standing before she realized it, ready to run again if she needed to.
But Calum only held out one, commanding hand. Isla didn’t take it. Instead she looked at Moira and said, “Give him more of the tea in an hour, and keep applying the cold cloths to his head. The fever is dry, he wants to sweat. See if you can get him to drink…”
Moira was nodding, looking worried, and Isla would have been angry, only she was too frightened. Instead, she followed Calum as he exited the small cottage.
His brown stallion was tied to a fence post, and a few villagers stood in their doorways, watching their laird fetch his lady home.
He led her to the horse, and she said, quickly, “I’d rather walk.”
Calum’s jaw firmed, and he replied, voice like iron. “We. Have. Guests.”
“I’m not fit for company. You ride on without me…”
“What’s this about?”
“What’s what about?”
He stared at her, stared at where her belly was pressing against her dress. She was starting to show now in earnest. Even Mrs. Allan had commented that most women only just started to show in their third month. Isla wondered if she’d ever have to confide that she was, in fact, in her fifth month of pregnancy. “If you were not with child, I’d throw you over this horse and drag you back to Dundur. If a laird has guests coming to the keep, then it his lady’s responsibility to…”
“I’ll not have you dictate to me!” she said, her fury flashing up in a sudden blaze. “You left me alone for an entire month. A month!”
“I had pressing matters to see to!” his voice rose incredulously.
“I don’t care what you had to see to!” she said, keeping her voice low, as there were villagers within earshot. “You don’t get to send your nephew riding up making demands of me…”
“You think not?” his voice was deep and deadly. “In fact, that is exactly what I get to do! You are the Lady Dundur and it is your job to see to the comfort of our…”
“I’m a healer,” she objected. “I heal, which is what I was doing before you dragged me away from that poor boy! Your castle ran like clockwork before I saw to it, and it runs better without me meddling. Between Fergus and your housekeeper everyone’s needs are met! So why must I intervene?”
She whirled and strode angrily down the lane, hating that people were hearing them, hating that word of their fight would be on the tongues of the servants in the morning. That Greer would know and smile her horrible, smug little smile…
“Isla!” called Calum from behind her, sharply. She could hear him following – hear the horse’s hooves against the lane’s hard-packed earth. But she kept walking. Outwardly she was fuming, but inwardly she was nearly sobbing with relief. It didn’t seem as if Calum had learned of her history with the Stewarts. She still might be able to escape their visit undiscovered.
Calum came abreast of her but didn’t reach out and stop her. Instead he strode with her, matching her pace.
As they approached the castle and Isla’s pace slowed, Calum spoke. “You’re not to heal the sick anymore,” he said. He reached out and gripped her arm, bringing them both to a halt. “Not while you’re pregnant with our child.”
“I’ll do as I please, and you’ll not stop me.”
“Isla.” His voice wasn’t angry, but it was firm, hard. “I will stop you Isla. I’ll not have you sicken. You’ll not put our child at risk. You’ll obey me in this, or I’ll have you guarded. And how will that look? The Lady of Dundur watched night and day?”
Isla was speechless. She stared up at him, looking for some sign of softness. Nothing. He was resolute.
“Calum please,” she said. “It’s all I have. I’m lost in that castle. I don’t know who I am without…”
“You have to think of the child,” he said.
That stopped Isla cold. She stared at him. The baby had been moving now for a few days, but Isla had been so preoccupied with her new station that she’d barely time to think about the child growing inside her. But that wasn’t what had stopped her. The words were familiar, said by her father to her mother when illness had spread through the village, and Deirdre had taken Isla’s two-year-old brother with her.
Deirdre hadn’t much considered the baby when she’d taken him on her rounds through the village. And he, too, had caught ill. He was so young, so sick, that Deirdre hadn’t been able to heal him.
“Who will think of me, then?” Isla asked finally, not willing to cede the point to her husband. “Not you. You’re too busy with your treaties. Not your clan. To them, I am merely a means to an end.
”
Calum was silent, then, “Is that how you feel?”
Isla just stared at him in response.
Calum sighed. “The Stewarts are staying a few days. We will remedy this, you and I, after they are gone. Until then, you will not embarrass me. You will act your part. And you must watch your sharp tongue around Rob Stewart. Try to be pleasing. If I can secure peace, at least in this part of the highlands, I could save hundreds of needless deaths. There are lives at stake Isla.” There was such intensity in his voice, and if Isla knew about anything, it was lifesaving.
She wanted to be angry with him still, but he looked exhausted. She felt similarly. So, she inclined her head, and followed him as he headed for the stables to curry and stable his horse.
Isla must have been at Moira’s house longer than she thought. It was clear that there were Stewart men about, if only because the stables were full of horses and there were bodies bedded down in the straw.
“Wait here,” murmured Calum, grimly, as he heard a giggle sound from inside. “Unless you’d like to see something untoward.”
Isla chose to stay where she was, and heard Calum’s low murmur as he spoke to someone. It was a minute later that Isla saw Maggie’s slim figure dart out from the stable and shoot off towards the kitchen. She looked like a rabbit who’d been startled from its bush, and Isla had to press her lips together to keep from laughing.
While she waited for him to return, her thoughts returned to her predicament. He meant for her to be at his side during the Stewart’s stay. There were bound to be men in Rob Stewart’s party who would recognize her. She needed to tell Calum about Elleric.
Isla was distracted momentarily from her thoughts, when another figure stepped out of the stables and into the torchlight. For a split second, she thought it was Geordie – for the man had the same slim height. But it wasn’t. The man didn’t see her at first. He was adjusting his kilt, picking straw from his pale brown hair and smiling to himself. Then he spotted her and they both froze.
“Well,” he said, for he found his voice first. “Well,” he repeated. “Isla Macleay. Standing before me, wearing a fur-trimmed cloak.”
Isla just stared. His expression was bland enough now, but she could still see it, twisted with gleeful malice. Witch.
“What are you now, Isla?” asked William Graham, looking her up and down with a lasciviousness that made her shudder. “A village whore? Come to see if any of the Stewart’s need servicing. Is this what has be fallen you then?” He laughed. “You must charge a pretty penny for a tumble to afford a cloak like that. I’ve just had a good romp or I’d pay you a coin and give you a go. Least I could do…”
“Shall we head in?” Calum’s voice preceded him, and from the tired expression on his face, Isla was certain he hadn’t heard William’s words.
She watched as William’s eyes lit on Calum as he offered Isla his arm. Calum noticed the William then, and he stared at him a confused moment, as if wondering what one of the Stewart clansmen was doing addressing his wife. Isla felt a strange sort of calm come over her – she felt victorious and frightened in the same moment, and she took Calum’s arm and let him lead her inside.
They were quiet as they strode through the keep. Most of the guests were abed, though there were still a few servants in the great hall, cleaning up from dinner. In their rooms, Calum left her to get dressed.
Isla perched on the edge of their bed, staring at the crevices in the stone wall and wondering how on earth she was going to tell Calum about Elleric. About William.
Just do it! She said to herself. Stop being a coward! You’re not a coward!
“Calum,” she said, as he approached the bed. He was naked, his preferred way to sleep, and she noticed that he’d lost weight in the month since she’d last seen him. His muscles stood out starkly against his dark skin. His cheekbones protruded, making his rough-hewn face even starker. He hadn’t been taking care of himself. A sudden longing and possessiveness swept through her. She reached out a hand for him.
He eyed her hand, almost warily but then reached out and took it. He gave her a firm, reassuring grip and said, “Whatever it is, Isla-lass, let it wait until morning.”
He let go her hand and slid beneath the bedclothes.
Isla lay down beside him, reveling in his warmth, a warmth she’d dearly missed. The nights were growing chillier, and she’d been cold without him.
As she lay besides him, she found it near impossible to fall asleep. The baby was active, and Calum’s words from earlier were haunting her: “You have to think of the child.”
She thought about her mother, then. That Deirdre had loved her had never been in question. But Deirdre had been that strange mix of selfish and self-less. She’d given much of her time to helping others, but always on her own terms. Was Isla the same? She thought briefly of Calum, who put his clan before his own wishes. Who rode himself ragged, seeking a peace that might never come to be… Over and over again he gave in to the demands of his clansmen. How did he do it?
It was hours before she was able to fall asleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
T he next morning, Isla woke up alone. She had overslept, and Calum had left early to take The Stewart and his men on a hunt through the hills. When she went downstairs to help with dinner, she learned that the housekeeper had already seen to dinner preparations and sent word to the village that they were in need of a few musicians.
“The Laird said I wasn’t to bother you,” said the woman, but she wouldn’t look Isla in the eye, and Isla had a feeling the housekeeper wasn’t happy with her.
When Isla went searching for Mrs. Allan, she was told that the woman had been summoned away that morning to see to the birth of her grandchild. “No doubt she’ll be gone a whole month! Her poor daughter has two other young ones. She’ll need the help.”
And so Isla spent most of the day in the kitchens helping the cook. A few of the other castle women were in and out, and a few even joined Isla to chat lightly. Isla was still in the kitchens when the hunt returned and she stayed there, knowing that, this late in the season, there’d be pheasants or wild turkeys to de-feather and trim. A few of the women left and came back with birds aplenty.
Isla took up a large hen and began to remove its feathers, placing them aside for later use. She was so absorbed in her task that she almost didn’t realize that had room had fallen a bit silent. The light chatter interspersed with moments of laughter was gone, and in its place were whispers. Isla looked over her shoulder at one of the Grant cousins, Efric, a woman close to Isla’s age with a tall, trim figure but an unfortunately large nose. Efric met Isla’s gaze, blinked, and turned her head to where a group of women were now huddled over one of the carving tables.
Efric frowned, put down the bird she’d been dressing, and wandered over towards the group of woman. Isla turned back, pretending she was not watching the whole thing, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Greer’s pretty blonde head pop up and then down, and silence descended on the group.
Isla heard Efric’s voice rise in question, and someone responded to her softly. Efric was back in a moment, shrugging. She didn’t know what they’d been talking of. But Isla knew that it was about her, and fear settled once again into the pit of her stomach. It was all she could do to remain there, plucking at that stupid hen and making light conversation with Efric.
She’d nearly finished her bird when Hugh entered the kitchens. It had been five months since Isla had healed him, and he was almost good as new. He had a brilliant scar that still pained him a bit, but he had full use of his arm and was gradually regaining his strength. He was a handsome boy, who looked more like his mother’s side of the family than his father, and Isla was grateful for his sudden presence. She needed a friend, and waited for his usual sunny smile. Unfortunately, he looked troubled and rather than calling after Isla, strode up to her and came close. They were of a height, Hugh and Isla, though Isla suspected the boy might grow another few inches soon.
> “Lady Dundur,” he said, his voice low. “My Uncle wishes to speak with you.”
Isla shot another look over her shoulder to where Greer and her cohort were watching them keenly.
“Where is he?” asked Isla, softly.
“I believe he headed for his solar,” said Hugh.
Isla nodded, dusting her hands on her apron and untying it. Was he angry that she did not greet the men back from the hunt? Please let it be as simple as that!
She was surprised when Hugh went with her and even more surprised when he walked close, positioning himself on the outside of her until she was nearly brushing the wall.
“Hugh,” said Isla, she couldn’t help herself, “What is this about?”
Hugh looked like he wanted to speak, but he pressed his lips together and gave her one small shake of his head. Either he didn’t know or he wasn’t saying.
They reached the solar quickly, and Hugh opened the door for her, but didn’t follow her in.
Isla entered, her sense of alarm growing when she saw Calum, his back to her, arms braced on either side of the window as he looked out over the hills. As the door thudded behind her, she saw his shoulders tighten. He knew she was there, but he didn’t turn around. The silence was thick and ominous.
Isla found her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, found she could neither move forward nor backward. Her eyes were trained on where Calum’s shirt stuck to the sloping muscles of his shoulders. Finally, he straightened and he turned.
Isla wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t the carefully bland face he gave her now. His expression was one of practiced neutrality, a look he’d most likely have had to hone in his negotiations, or earlier, when facing down his father. She swallowed.
“Isla,” he said, his voice as bland as his expression. “Isla.”
