“What are ye doin’?”
Torn from his musings, Will swallowed hard and turned, feeling like a man about to face the executioner. He had no idea what to do, or how it was all going to work out. As his gaze fell on Isobel, though, every worry he’d had disappeared, his mind going blank for a second at the sight of her.
It was like looking at the sun. Her face shone with such a radiance that he felt he had to look away, except his gaze was riveted on her. The sound of her laughter encompassed him, as she crossed the space to him, her fingers brushing delicately across his arm, the scent of honey and lavender strong on her skin. The sweet taste of the breakfast she’d made him was still lingering on his tongue and he suddenly found himself wondering if she tasted the same, like oats and jam with a secretly delightful blend of spices.
Reaching out, he took a strand of her wild, red hair, touching it in wonder. How did she keep it so soft? He’d never touched hair so soft in his life. It, too, was carrying a sweet scent that wafted past him as he gently tucked it behind her ear. Laying his palm against her cheek, there was a sudden spasm in his chest, as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. All around him, the world seemed to pulse with his heart, the steady beat conducting the sway of the branches overhead, as the ground stood steady below. Still, William only had eyes for Isobel, her own green gaze lit up in anticipation, the fabric of her black dress pressing against him.
Leaning in, he dared a look at her lips, pink and full. They were parted some, making a slight “o” shape as she leaned in to him as well, her hand still gently resting on his arm.
Pressing his lips against hers, he caressed her face softly, eyes shut, savoring the experience. Though her mouth was faintly sticky from honey, she tasted like whiskey, the fire suddenly reminding him of what it was to breathe. His insides clenched as he inhaled the scent of her, the earthy smell of her garden and her flowery hair near to heaven to him.
Sighing softly, Isobel matched the kiss, her lips moving against him in a way that would have been enough to drive any man mad.
Suddenly filled with frustrated euphoria, William recognized the desire for more. It wasn’t just something he wanted, though; he needed to discover more of her, to feel her in his arms fully, to know what it was like to have her, body and soul. The wall of family duty and pride that had been desperately trying to hold back every confused emotion and sense of feeling he had came crashing down in that one kiss, shattering any concept of being without her.
Wrapping his free arm around her waist, he tugged her toward him, pulling her into his arms. It was almost impossible for him to tell where his own body ended and hers began, he held her so tightly. Chests pressed together, the pounding of her heart matched his own, the air that they shared taken in gasps as they tasted each other again and again.
Visions he didn’t know he’d crafted danced in his head. They would be married in the fall, when the heather bloomed again. A crown of wildflowers would adorn her head, her body perfectly clad in a gown that so distinctly matched her somehow, with the purple petals gathered in a bouquet to dry and keep as a memory of the happiest day of their lives. The celebration would not soon to be forgotten, filled with dancing and food, family and friends, and his dear, sweet love. When the sun drifted beyond the horizon and the highlands were washed in the golden light of end of day, he would take her home and discover the parts of her he’d yet to explore. In time, their children would form in her belly and then in their home, tiny feet racing through the grass until they were grown and moving on to their own lives. Each day, he would watch her grow older, and each day he would love her more and more.
He did love her, he realized fully now. The stirrings of his heart confirmed an adoration he’d never felt before. It was as if the sun, moon, and stars had rained down from the heavens, destroying the entire world and leaving only Isobel to tether himself to. The ties were made gladly and without resistance. Why should he fight it any longer? In his soul, he knew he had found the woman that God and nature had intended for him.
Breaking away from her mouth, he tangled his fingers in her hair, looking over her face with a calm peace. It wasn’t clear how, but it was going to work out—he could feel it in his bones.
“Do ye love me, Isolde?” Husky, his voice sounded more like a whisper, the racing of his heart increasing tenfold as he spoke. Clearing his throat quickly, he grasped her desperately, not knowing what the future was about to unfold. They’d never actually said it out loud, confessed that they were lost to each other.
Her skin was flushed, eyes bright as she stared back, bottom lip caught between her teeth. “That depends,” she replied, laughter in her voice and light in her eyes. “Do ye love me, William MacDonald? I’ll not be lovin’ a man whose heart is not my own.”
Softening, the corners of his lips turned upward, an easy smile covering his face. Putting their two foreheads together, he sighed contently. “Oh, aye. I do love ye, verra much.”
“Well, then. It would seem that yer heart and mine are one in the same, because I do love ye. More than any words I can think to tell ye with.”
His heart swelled at that and he kissed her again, feeling the happiest he’d ever been in his life. Yes, it was all going to work out somehow.
Eleven
“How many people do ye think will be there?” Isobel walked beside him, staring around the path as they descended down the mountain. She sounded excited, but there was also an uncertainness to her tone, like she was worried she would run into someone she knew and would rather not see.
“Sixty?” he guessed. “It will be all the families that help with the crops. We’re spread out a bit, but we still call our little settlement a town. It’s nothing grand, like a Laird’s homestead and lands, but it’s enough for us. Life is peaceful. Or, at least it was, until ye showed up and turned everything on its head.”
“Ye don’t seem so bothered by me now,” she teased. The amusement on her face quickly melted away though, replaced by nervousness. “Do ye think they’ll like me? Yer family, I mean.”
“I think they will love ye,” he responded truthfully.
“Even though everyone says I’m a witch?”
Understanding suddenly filled him and he felt as if he’d been kicked by the horse, he’d been so blind to what was bothering her. Of course she was worried about leaving her home. Everyone in the town thought she was a witch. They could shun her, or worse, accuse her. The possibility hadn’t occurred to him, he’d been so focused on what to do about Fiona. There was no way he’d be able to leave Isobel by herself now, not when there was the threat of someone taking it upon themselves to say she slept with the Devil.
“It makes no difference to me what people say about ye,” he reminded her, trying to sound calm and as if he’d already thought of this. “It won’t matter to those who count either.”
She nodded, her brow furrowed, and patted the side of Arth. It was a motion of reassurance and Will wanted to slap himself for being so inconsiderate to her plight. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten that everyone was already forming opinions on Isobel. They’d had weeks to talk about what she might be up to. Even worse, he had been up there for so long, they were probably talking about what she’d done to him as well.
Ditching his plan to fix everything entirely, he took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Isobel, I need to tell ye something.”
“Hmm?” Pulled out of her own thoughts, she looked over at him, eyebrows raised.
“It’s something I should have told ye earlier, but I dinna ken how. I dinna ken how to do it now, to be honest.” Grimacing as the look on her face became somewhat alarmed, he pushed on, not wanting to lose his nerve. “There’s a woman in town named Fiona. She and I . . . have a past.” The last bit came out lamely and he felt as though a thousand voices in his head were screaming at him in his failure.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t tell the woman that he was engaged to marry someone else in just a month’s time and that she would
be at the party tonight. He couldn’t look at her and tell her he had lied by omission. How would she ever be able to believe anything he’d said to her? She would look at him and know he was a liar, just as he knew whenever he saw his own reflection.
“A past?” She sounded confused, her eyes narrowing as she continued to watch him, stopping her movement down the path.
“Meaning we were . . . together?”
“Are ye tellin’ me, or askin’ a question?”
She folded her arms, frowning. It was more than easy to imagine what she must have been thinking, all the ways she was planning revenge on him for lying.
“Telling.” Swallowing hard, he took another deep breath.
“Well, ye’re not together now, are ye?” Her tone held a hint of many emotions. There was some anger, as well as sadness, and a surprising amount of panic.
“I love ye, Isobel,” Will said quickly. “No one else.”
She relaxed at that, her shoulders slumping as the tension released from them. “Then it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
He hadn’t exactly lied, but he’d omitted the truth, again. He needed to tell her something before they showed up at the house.
“She’s going to be there tonight,” he blurted out, saying the first thing that popped into his mind. “I was hoping we wouldna run into her, but I dinna want ye to be caught off guard, ye ken?”
“Oh.” That seemed to surprise her further and she fell silent once more, thinking.
The voices in his head were now screaming about how stupid he was. Why was it so hard to tell her? He didn’t want to hurt her, but if she ever found out . . .
“It’s fine,” she finally said, looking back over at him as she started down the path again. “I’m thankful ye told me, though.”
“We were supposed to get married.”
The words caused her to pause again, her form freezing ahead of him. Will felt weak, as if the confession had sapped all his strength from him. Relief washed over him at the same time, though.
Isobel finally knew.
Looking over her shoulder at him, she frowned. “Why didn’t ye ever tell me?”
“I dinna ken how,” he replied simply. “When I first came to help, it felt like such an escape from everything, I wanted to keep that part of my life in the dark where it belonged. I ken I should have told ye sooner, but I couldn’t. It’s been killin’ me, keeping it from ye.”
Turning around, she slowly walked up to him, looking him over like she was deciding what to do with him. Finally, she smiled softly, taking his hand in hers. “I know what it’s like, wanting to escape. I understand that very well. I would never hold this against ye, Will. Ye told the truth, even though it took a while. Ye’ve done the right thing by me.”
“Ye’re not angry?” he asked, surprised.
“Why should I be? Ye’re not with the woman any longer. Everyone has a past. If ye can accept mine without question, I can do the same for ye.”
It was then that he realized she hadn’t understood. Isobel thought Fiona was already out of the picture, some part of a distant past that didn’t matter anymore. She didn’t know he was still engaged to be married.
“Isobel.” His voice came out strained, an overwhelming sense of panic growing inside him.
“It’s fine, Will. Let’s not talk about it any longer, aye?” Eyes shining, she smiled happily, taking her place on the path once more and heading down.
Caught, Will only nodded, keeping his mouth shut. He had tried to tell her. Now, all he could hope was that she would still forgive him when she found out the whole truth.
The rest of the journey passed easily enough. The closer they came to the MacDonald house, the more nervous Will became, though. He wanted to enjoy the night and spend more time with Isobel, but all he could think of now was the fact he had to break off his engagement, and fast. By the time they were in sight of the dogs, he felt as if his whole world were about to explode around him.
“Willy! Willy!”
Rowan came bursting through the front door, racing the hounds to his brother, a wide smile on his face. Laughter sounded from him, his arms spread wide as he ran up the hill.
Grabbing the boy up, Will hugged him tightly, chuckling as well. The embrace was sweet and full of brotherly love, the amount of which somewhat surprised him. He hadn’t noticed how much he’d missed his family while he was away until just now. Looking toward the house, he saw his parents in the doorway, amused as well. Alastair appeared in the opening to the makeshift barn, wiping his hands on his kilt before raising one in greeting and smiling.
The dogs jumped around his feet, barking excitedly, causing Arth to snort in annoyance and step back. Isobel laughed, steadying the animal with her touch. As if realizing her for the first time, the pups relaxed, watching her with cautious interest.
“Who’s this?” Rowan asked, looking over at her.
“This is Isobel Delaney.” Grinning at her, Will finally felt excitement growing in him at the prospect of what the night could hold for them. “Isobel, this is my brother, Rowan.”
“Pleased to meet ye, Rowan. I’ve heard quite a bit about ye.”
Rowan’s eyes widened as he stared at her, his arms wrapped around Will’s neck still. “Ye’re the witch from the mountain?”
“Rowan!” Will scolded him, wishing he weren’t always so forthcoming with his thoughts.
Isobel, on the other hand, only smiled, apparently amused by the question. “Aye, I suppose I am.”
“Ye don’t look like a witch,” Rowan responded smartly. “Ye’re too pretty. There aren’t even any warts on yer face!”
“How kind of ye to say.” Her tone was warm as her eyes shone, the smile still plastered to her face. “Ye aren’t too bad lookin’ yerself.”
This caused Rowan to blush and he wriggled away from Will, landing on the ground with ease. Straightening his shirt, he walked around Arth and held his hand out to her. “May I introduce ye to Maw and Da?”
The formalness of his tone and actions made Will snort with more amusement. It was clear the child liked her—hopefully everyone else would see how wonderful she was as well.
“It would be my pleasure,” she responded, taking his hand in hers. “Lead the way, young man.”
He dragged her off then, practically running once more as he brought her up to the front of the house. Maw and Da didn’t look at all surprised to see her, as if they’d expected Will would somehow convince her to come down. Had they also expected him to fall in love with her? Because that would make his situation so much easier than where it was now.
Quickly, they whisked her inside, leaving Will to take care of Arth and all the items he’d packed back down the mountain. Thankfully, Alastair was still waiting beside the barn, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
“She’s not what I expected,” he said conversationally, straightening and following Will into the shed.
“I dinna think I said anything about her having warts last time,” Will replied, grinning.
“Not that,” Alastair replied, rolling his eyes. “She’s . . . different. There’s definitely the look of one who would beat robbers with a hammer in her eyes, but there’s a softness to her as well. I don’t ken how to explain it.”
Grunting a non-committal response, Will set to unpacking Arth’s load, surprised that Alastair would notice those things about Isobel from just one look.
“Ye’re different, too, ye ken,” Alastair added.
“What do ye mean?”
“I mean that today was the first time I ever saw ye look at a woman and smile the way ye did out there.” Joining Will, he began to help with the unloading, the work passing easily between them. After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat and spoke again. “What will ye do about Fiona?”
Sighing, Will stopped working, looking at him over the horse’s back. “I dinna know, Al. I intend to break it off with her today, but I haven’t decided how yet. I canna leave Isobel alone, not with
everyone thinking she’s a witch. At the same time, she canna come with me to do it.”
“She doesn’t ken?” Disapproval clouded his features, but he didn’t say anything more, keeping his judgements to himself.
“I tried tellin’ her, but she didn’t understand. I dinna know how to make it clear without hurting her.” It was somewhat relieving to have someone else to talk to about his misfortunes, even if it was his younger brother.
“Well, it would seem someone in heaven decided to take pity on ye, ye poor sop.” He laughed, the uneasiness that had flashed into their conversation suddenly disappearing. “Fiona and her mother aren’t here.”
“What?”
“They’re in the Lowlands, shopping for the wedding. I imagine they won’t be too happy when they find out there isn’t going to be one, but ye dinna have to worry about meeting with them today.”
Relief flooded through Will and he laughed as well, suddenly feeling a thousand pounds lighter. What luck he had! There wouldn’t be any fighting or hard feelings today. Of course, he would still have to break the news to them, but it would be on his terms and not when everyone in the settlement was here to hear about it.
“Get inside,” Alastair ordered, nodding toward the direction of the house. “I’ll take care of Arth. Go rescue yer woman from Rowan.”
Twelve
The beat of the bodhran carried through the entire group of dancers, the pipes playing exuberantly for the party. The musicians seemed to be having the time of their lives, playing together with smiles on their faces, sweat marking their brows as they went on and on, entertaining the families. Their feet tapped together, keeping time, fingers and shoulders moving wildly, bodies twisting and turning as they did their own kind of dance to the music.
Dust and straw hung in the air, kicked up by moving feet and swishing skirts, laughter engulfing it all. Hands clapped, cups clinked, and voices rang out, creating a type of dull roar in the night. Fires burned here and there, lighting the occasion and providing warmth. It was as if everything else in the world had faded away, this night seeming to last forever as friends and family joined together for the first time since the snows had melted.
Taken Away_A Swept Away Saga Origins Story_A Scottish Highlander Romance_The Swept Away Saga Page 8
