In the morning as her brothers, Alexander and Iain mounted their horses with a great deal of groaning and gritting of teeth, Islaen watched them closely. It did not take her long to see that Iain was right. The tension that had existed between her husband and her brothers, one that had deeply troubled her, was gone. She was glad of it although she still did not really understand the whole business.
By the time everyone’s bruises were starting to heal they had reached the point in their journey where her kin would leave them. Islaen knew it was foolish but she could not fully repress the fear their leaving instilled within her. She could not stop them for Colin had sent word that the English had raided. Her family was needed at home and could not continue on to Caraidland as had originally been planned. Since she loved Iain it puzzled her that her family’s leaving should make her feel so all alone. She had to fight tears as she kissed each brother farewell.
“We will come to meet with Iain’s family as soon as we can, lass,” Alaistair promised.
“I ken it, Fither.” She returned his kiss and then hugged him for a moment.
“Dinnae look so dowie, lass. Ye said this was what ye wanted, that he made ye happy.”
“Aye, ’tis. He does. I just wish I could have ye both, him and all of ye.”
“Wheesht, lass, ye will always have us. There isnae a place upon God’s green earth ye could go to be rid of us. T’will just take a wee bit longer to get to ye if ye need us.”
Islaen kept repeating that as she watched them ride away. She also told herself that she was a grown woman now and beyond tears simply because her family was no longer right at hand. None of it helped. The tears still flowed. As soon as her family was out of sight she huddled close to her horse and stared at her feet in a vain attempt to hide her tears as she fought to compose herself. She did not want the men remaining, especially Iain, to think her a child.
Iain sighed, dismounted and went over to her. He had suspected that the parting would be hard for her. Eventually she would be able to find contentment in the knowledge that they were not very far away but, for now, he suspected that she felt lost. With a twinge of guilt, he admitted that some of that could well be because he was not really giving her anything to replace all that love her family had given her.
“Islaen,” he said gently as he put his arm around her.
“I am sorry, Iain. I am acting the wee bairn.”
“Nay.” He pulled her into his arms. “I ken weel the pull of family. They arenae too far away, lass.”
“I ken it.” She sniffed and gave him a watery smile. “And now that ye have beat each other bloody and are great friends mayhaps we will see them oft enough.”
“Aye, I ken that we will. If they but come one at a time we can see your kin all the year round,” he teased. She laughed softly and a moment later he helped her to mount her horse.
“We will be at Caraidland ere the sun sets tomorrow,” Iain announced as they stopped for the night.
Sighing as she attended to her horse, Islaen tried not to get nervous. Iain and his men certainly looked happy about it. Even Alexander and his men looked pleased. That surely indicated that Caraidland was a good place, she told herself. She sighed again and wished she knew at least one person there besides Iain. The reminder that she knew the five men that rode with him cheered her only a little. This would be the first time she had ever met anyone without some of her family along for support.
“Lass, they are good people,” Alexander said quietly as he moved to her side.
“My face is so easy to read?”
“Nay, not truly. ’Tis but clear that ye dinnae really share our delight o’er the nearness of our destination.”
“Weel, it has ne’er been so important that I find approval,” she admitted softly and unconsciously touched her breasts freed from their bonds from their first night upon the road.
Alexander smiled and shook his head. “Lass, ye are bonnie, but I ken how hard it must be for one who has long thought otherwise to believe it. All his kin need to approve of ye is to ken that ye love their son. Ye do and they will.”
“I have ne’er said so,” she mumbled, coloring deeply.
“Mayhaps ’tis best that ye dinnae. Not yet.”
“Aye. He would hie to the hills,” she grumbled.
He laughed softly and nodded. “Ye wouldnae see him for the dust.”
“Alexander? Just why have ye come along?”
“Weel, lass, I ken that Iain will simply tell his kin that ye are his wife and ye will say little more than ‘Aye, I am.’ T’would be best if there is another there they can speak to and I am kenning more than I ought.”
“Are ye sure ye ought to?”
He shrugged. “It cannae hurt.”
“Nay, I suppose not.”
“Dinnae ye have anything to do, Alex?” Iain demanded as he walked over to them and a grinning Alexander strolled away. “That mon smiles too much,” Iain grumbled, then looked crossly at Islaen. “Why are ye always talking with him?”
“Because he is my friend. Iain, I ken that he is a beautiful mon who can seduce a woman with but one soft word but we are only friends.”
“He would be more.”
“Mayhaps but only until he finds what he seeks.”
“He thinks he has found it in you.”
“What he sees is that I see the beauty, aye, but I see the rest too. That is what he wants, a lass who will see past his face and form. Once another lass does that he will ne’er e’en passingly think of me as more than a friend and a body can ne’er have enough good friends. He is your friend too, Iain,” she added quietly.
Iain nodded, understanding all that she said and inferred. If he tossed Islaen aside as he had almost done when he had gone with Mary, Alexander would be right there for her, but otherwise he would be no more than a friend. It was, nevertheless, a little unsettling to have such a mon ready and willing to take over his wife if the chance arose. Suddenly, he felt a greater understanding of Tavis’s feelings. He supposed that Alexander would find it amusing to have two MacLagans scowling his way and hovering over their wives.
He thought of that again as Caraidland came into view the next day, and looked at Alexander who rode at his side. “Tavis will be so verra pleased to see you,” he drawled.
Alexander laughed. “Aye. I always get a warm greeting at Caraidland.”
A wild cry broke the relative quiet of the countryside. Islaen stared wide-eyed at the rider charging towards them. Surely one man would never try to attack all of them, she thought, and then saw Iain grin. A moment later the youth came to an impressively neat halt before them and grinned back at Iain.
Despite the brightness of her own family’s hair, Islaen found the youth’s orange hair a wonder. She knew he could not be kin to the MacLagans for she had heard enough about them to know that they were dark. He looked at her and she nearly gasped. His eyes were beautiful, vaguely slanted, thickly lashed and a warm rich amber in color.
“Phelan, ye will be killed one day for someone will think ye some attacking madman,” Iain drawled.”
“Sure’n are ye certain I am not?” Phelan grinned, then nodded towards Islaen. “And this fair maid is your wife?”
“Aye. Islaen MacRoth ere she became a MacLagan. Islaen, this wild mon is Sir Phelan O’Connor.”
When he kissed her hand with all the grace of a skilled courtier, Islaen felt his long hair brush her hand and was bemused to find that it felt as soft and sun-kissed as the marigolds it resembled. She blushed when he looked at her. For all the sweet boyishness of his face, his eyes held the warm appreciation of a man who was no stranger to passion.
“M’lady,” he murmured in a soft, rich voice she could not help but compare to Alexander’s.
“Oh, Islaen, will do.”
He smiled. “And I am but Phelan. The sir but means that I was in the right place at the right time.”
A glance at Iain told her the young man was being modest. That and the fact that he loo
ked too young to carry the accolade of sir told her that he shrugged away an act that probably made for an exciting tale. She knew instinctively, however, that she would not get the whole story from him, that he really did believe it all a simple piece of luck. There was something about the young man that made her relax just a little concerning her impending meeting with Iain’s family.
“Your father has a feast in the making. Caraidland has been a mad whirl since your squire arrived yester morn.”
“And that is why ye are out riding o’er the hills, Phelan?”
“Aye, Iain. They kept trying to put me to work. T’was not easy escaping Storm’s keen eye either.” Phelan grinned impishly at Alexander. “Mayhaps I should hie back to warn Tavis that this pretty mon rides along with ye. Sure ’n he will be so pleased.”
“Nay, let it be a surprise. ’Tis why I told Murdo to say naught,” Iain drawled. “Mayhaps Alexander will tell Tavis why he blesses us with his charming company.”
“Can a mon not travel to see his friends without his reasons being suspect?” Alexander asked soulfully.
Islaen realized with surprise that Alexander had yet to explain himself to Iain. Although Iain might not appreciate Alexander’s reasons for joining them, an explanation would ease the suspicions Iain so clearly held. It was evident that Alexander found it amusing to let Iain puzzle over it. Islaen decided a little crossly that Alexander’s idea of fun could get quite annoying at times.
“Nay, not when he sets a mon’s wife to sighing,” Iain said dryly.
“Are ye sighing, m’lady?” Alexander asked Islaen.
She met his grin with a mildly disgusted look, then, closing her eyes, placed one hand upon her breast and the back of the other across her forehead. “Aye. Wheesht, I am near to swooning upon the ground at your feet.”
“Ye will be upon the ground soon if ye dinnae keep the reins in your hand,” Iain muttered as the men laughed.
“Nay. He willnae move. I told him to be still.” Islaen hugged her stallion’s neck. “He is a verra good lad, arenae ye boy?” she cooed.
“’Tis a stallion ye have there, m’lady, not a lap dog,” Iain said with mock disgust. “Weel, shall we cease sitting here and finish this journey?” Iain asked and there was a round of hearty agreement from the men.
Sighing inwardly, Islaen urged her mount onward, staying close to Iain. She could sense his eagerness to see his family. He did not seem at all aware of the fact that she was not quite so eager.
As they rode through the gates she tried to divert herself from her growing apprehension by studying Caraidland. Here was no simple tower house. It was large, strong and well run, if the orderliness about her was any indication. The MacLagans might be a small clan, but they looked strong and there was the air of wealth to the place. Islaen could easily understand the pride that colored Iain’s voice every time he spoke of Caraidland.
Iain helped her dismount and felt her tension. He suddenly realized that she might not share his delight in coming to Caraidland. He was coming home but she was riding into a nest of strangers.
“Come, love, t’will not be so bad,” he said gently. “Ye are at least not a complete surprise. They do expect you.”
She managed a weak smile for him as they moved towards the keep. There waited a huge group of people. Islaen found herself caught up in a dizzying round of introductions. While everyone seemed friendly she sensed a wariness in them. They were as unsure about her as she was about them. Islaen prayed that in the trial period to come she did not step too far wrong.
Chapter Eleven
“She is a bonnie lass but a wee one,” Colin MacLagan said to his sons when they had a moment alone.
Iain sighed and nodded. He had been tempted to linger in the chambers he and Islaen had been given, waiting for her to join him, so that he could avoid any time alone with his family. That, he knew, would only postpone the inevitable. They naturally had a lot of questions and he decided it might just help Islaen’s settling in if he answered them as soon as possible.
“Aye, she is a good lass. Do ye ken the MacRoths?”
“Nay, not weel. Good people and the mon has a lot of sons.”
Inwardly, Iain grimaced, knowing that his father wanted him to have sons, and answered reluctantly, “Eleven.”
“Wheesht, there’s a brood to be proud of. The lass is the only daughter?”
“Aye. The youngest child too.”
Tavis grinned and winked at his wife who sat at his side, also a cherished only daughter. “Her kin have a heavy hand, do they?”
“’Tis nay too bad, though,” he half-smiled as he touched a fading bruise near his eye, “they guard her weel.”
“I was going to ask ye about that,” growled Colin. “Ye arenae still at odds with them, are ye?”
“Nay, that settled it all.”
“Men,” Storm grumbled in disgust. “Knock each other about, then shake hands. ’Tis foolish.”
“So Islaen said,” Iain drawled and Storm shook her head as the men laughed. “T’was a good fight. Her brothers are good.”
“But ye are better.”
“Aye, Tavis, but I willnae be if there is a next time. They watch and, if it works, they learn it.”
“Why didnae they come here with ye?”
“The English had raided, Fither. They got word of it halfway through our journey.”
“Bad?”
“Bad enough so they felt they had best get back home and see to things ere they came here.”
As Iain continued to answer questions he realized that his knowledge of Islaen, her life and her kin was still somewhat vague. He also saw that he needed to be evasive. While his family would never intrude too deeply into his private affairs they were quite naturally interested in how his marriage was working. Finally, he muttered the excuse that Islaen might need his help in finding her way to the feast and left what had begun to feel like an inquisiton, though he knew it had not been.
“The lad is being verra coy,” Colin muttered. “Do ye have naught to say, Alex?”
Alexander straightened up from where he lounged against the wall, having eavesdropped upon the family conference in the ever filling hall. “Me? Now what would I have to say about Iain’s marriage?”
Tavis’s bright blue eyes sparkled with laughter although his voice was stern. “Ye always ken more than ye ought about other men’s wives. I also ken that this time ye didnae come just to annoy me by flirting with Storm.”
“How ye wound me, Tavis,” Alexander murmured, winking at Storm, who smiled and shook her head.
“Come, Alex, enough teasing. Tell us what ye know,” Storm urged gently. “Is it a good match? Will it work?”
“Despite Iain’s effort, aye, I think it will. She is a good lass, Storm, a very good lass and she loves him though she willnae say it. She kens weel that Iain would flee that. Aye, the lass kens her mon very weel indeed.”
“He clings to his fears,” Colin said with a sigh.
“Aye, he does but ’tis not only her death upon a childbed that he fears. Death stalks him.”
“MacLennon,” Tavis growled.
Nodding, Alexander told them of the attack upon Iain. So too did he tell them of Lady Mary’s games. By the time he finished relating all that had happened in court the MacLagans were both dismayed and angry.
“It sounds as if they should have left court weeks ago,” murmured Storm.
“Most of that happened in the last few days but, aye, it will be better for them here. Is Maura still about?”
Thinking of the woman who had so avidly pursued Iain before he had gone to court, Storm grimaced. “Aye, though I believe she has set her aim at another. She is not wed yet, though, and not too far away either.”
“Ah, weel, at least she is but one and not many as there were at court.”
“Do ye really think the lass can pull him from himself? Stop him from being the cold mon he fights to be?”
“Aye, Colin, but it would help if MacLennon wa
s dead. Until then,” Alexander shrugged. “Watch them when they come down to indulge in the feasting. Ye will see what I mean. If the matter werenae such a sad one t’would be funny. Iain catches himself softening and pulls back whilst poor, wee Islaen struggles to stop that retreat, wavering between sadness and anger.”
“Well, what matters most this night,” Storm said firmly, “is that the girl is very nervous and we must put her at ease.”
Islaen stared at herself in the mirror and then cursed softly, bringing a muttered reprimand from a harrassed Meg. She knew she was being a nuisance and perhaps foolish but she was desperate to look her best. Not used to her breasts being unbound she could only see a rather vast amount of bosom when she donned her fine gowns.
“I look the veriest whore,” she said sulkily, glaring at the soft rise of her full breasts.
“Ochane, ye will drive me mad,” hissed Meg. “Do ye mean to change again?”
“Nay, she doesnae.”
Iain grinned when both women turned abruptly to gape at him. He had stood in the doorway watching Islaen fret for several minutes. It was rather amusing to watch her struggle to hide what most other women would flaunt. She would clearly need a while yet before she was used to seeing herself unbound.
“But, Iain, I…”
“Ye look fine, lass,” he said sincerely as he moved to stand before her.
“Are ye sure? I wouldnae want your kin to think me shameless.”
“That they would ne’er think. Ye best come with me, lass, or t’will be little there is for us to eat.”
She smiled weakly and let him pull her along with him. Her gown was lovely and well made, of the finest materials, but she was certain she was showing far too much of herself. She colored with nervousness and embarrassment when she entered the hall at Iain’s side and all eyes turned towards her. It was not the best time, as far as she was concerned, to wear such a gown. As a stranger, and Iain’s new wife, all eyes were upon her anyways. Now was the time to be extremely demure.
Seated at the laird’s left, it did not take Islaen long to feel she had been given the best of seats. Colin was an open, friendly man and reminded her of her father in many ways. Within moments, she was feeling at ease.
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