by Terry Spear
He glanced back at the men. “I will wake the unconscious man and make them walk with us to the great hall and turn them over to Tibold.”
Before he could make a move in that direction, they heard heavy footfalls running their way.
Marcus moved Isobel behind him and stalked toward the door, grabbed his sword, then poked his head out. “Angus and Chattan’s sons,” he said, sounding relieved.
Isobel sighed with relief. “Then the maid must have warned them.”
“Mayhap she was coerced to come here.” Marcus turned to the Chattan men. “The bastards are over there. If it hadna been for needing information from them, they would be dead men.”
Angus and the other men entered the room and Angus clapped his hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “Aye. We will take care of this.”
“The maid who came to say I was needed below stairs, did she give you word?” Isobel hoped the men had forced her to come with them.
“Only after one of the other servants saw her running down the stairs, and he knew something was amiss as she should have been helping with the serving of the meal. She finally broke down and told us what was happening,” Angus said. “We believe she had been pressed to do it, and then feared she would be severely punished for aiding them.”
Isobel understand the dilemma. “I wish to speak with her.” Instead of the men interrogating her and making everything worse.
“As you wish if Da agrees, but you will have an armed guard,” Kayne said.
Kayne and Drummond splashed water from the tub on the unconscious man’s face. Then they roused him enough that the other brothers were able to get him to his feet.
“Who do you work for?” Kayne asked the man whose face was swollen and bruised by Marcus’s fists.
“Lord Pembroke, the new earl. She is his cousin, and ‘tis his decision to wed her to whomever he wishes,” the man said.
“He is wrong,” Marcus said.
Then the Chattan brothers hauled the two knaves out of the chamber.
Angus said to Isobel and Marcus, “The servants prepared a meal to be brought up here. Did you still wish it?”
“Nay,” Isobel said adamantly. “I wish to see my cousin, eat in the great hall with everyone else, let them know that Marcus is my husband, and I will claim no other.”
Both Marcus and Angus smiled at her, and then escorted her down the corridor after the other men. She knew that their amusement was due to the fact that she said she claimed Marcus and not the other way around. But it was true. From when she was a lass of one and ten, she had decided that he would be her husband. She’d only had to get her father to agree.
Feeling sad again about her father’s death, she wished with all her heart he had been the one to grant her permission to wed Marcus and that her dear father was still alive.
“Are you all right?” Marcus took her hand in his until they reached the stairs.
“Aye, Marcus. They surely gave me a fright.” She was still trembling some from the scare. “But they did not get off with me and that is the most important thing.”
Once they were on the narrow stairs, they had to walk single file, the curving stone stairs a way for those defending the castle to have an easier time of it, the ability to swing a sword when the man attacking from below couldn’t. The defender of the castle would only have to fend off one man at a time.
When they reached the ground floor, she felt apprehensive, worried how this would all play out.
As soon as the Chattan brothers hauled the beaten men into the great hall, all conversation stopped instantly, and all eyes were upon them. Then the gazes shifted to Marcus and Isobel as they made their way past the men to see Tibold.
He rose from the table, his face barely suppressing anger.
Edana joined Isobel and took her hand, though Marcus had his arm around Isobel’s waist.
“Are you all right, Isobel?” Edana said, her voice shaken.
“Aye, I am fine. If Marcus had not come when he did…” She turned her fury on her cousin. “You had these men attempt to take me hostage while under the Chattans’ and my husband’s protection? You must be insane, John.”
“Laird Pembroke to you, dear cousin. I do not recognize this marriage between you and the… the Highlander. ‘Tis plain to see that you have not the sense to make such a decision on your own.”
Marcus released Isobel and took a step toward the earl.
Tibold quickly held out his hand in a gesture to stop Marcus. “Hold, if you please, Marcus. I will have a word alone with you, Isobel, my sons, and Angus.”
“Niall and Gunnolf also, if you would permit them to join us as well,” Angus said.
“Aye, it goes without saying.”
“As to you, Lord Pembroke, you will remain here,” Tibold said.
“Or?”
“You wouldna like the alternative. First, Lady Isobel, Marcus, eat and we will finish this business in my solar.”
“Aye, thank you, Tibold,” Isobel said.
Tibold smiled warmly at her and then Isobel and Marcus were seated next to Tibold, while John fumed on the other side of them.
To Isobel, Tibold said, “My lady, my condolences for your loss. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
“As do I.”
Tibold’s expression turned dark. “For the rest of your stay, you willna have any more difficulties.”
“I thank you for your kindness.” She truly liked the chief of the Clan Chattan and could see why Marcus cared for his extended family. And she realized they were hers now also.
“You have married my favorite nephew. ‘Tis befitting that you stay with us a time.”
She cast him a smile and bowed her head in thanks, though in truth, she wished to see Marcus’s castle and his people. She hoped they would be happy with her there and not see her as a Sassenach, even though she was not one. But she had lived as one for all her life. She wasn’t sure what Marcus would tell his people about her heritage. And then she realized she had a new dilemma. It would not be good to be considered a Sassenach, and since he and his people didn’t have a fondness for Laren MacLauchlan, her true father, Marcus’s people would most likely be wary of her for that reason.
She sighed and ate her food, hoping they could work it all out to everyone’s satisfaction. She loved Marcus with all her heart, and his cousins whom she’d known for years also, but she just hoped the rest of his people would welcome her, too.
She was surprised that Tibold didn’t force John and his people to leave after what had happened. Why didn’t John just leave? She suspected he would attempt to stay there until she and Marcus left to continue traveling to Lochaven and then try to take her from Marcus when they didn’t have all of Chattan’s clansmen to deal with.
When they finished their meal, Tibold spoke with some of his men in private. She noted they were armed, unlike John and his men, and they kept them confined to the great hall while the servants cleared away the remnants of the meal.
“May I speak with the maid who came to my chamber afterward?” Isobel asked Tibold.
“Aye,” he said, “as you wish.”
In the solar, she took a seat on a bench while Tibold sat on another and the rest of the men stood, though Marcus rested his hand on her shoulder in a tender way. Which everyone noticed.
“You might be wondering why I have not thrown the earl out of here as angry as his actions make me, but I wished to ensure that when Isobel and Marcus leave here with my sons and son by marriage, John and his men wouldna give you any trouble. They will remain here, incarcerated, if necessary, but they willna leave until I am certain you have had time to reach Lochaven,” Tibold said.
“We thank you for your aid,” Marcus said.
“I can never repay you for saving Kayne’s life, Marcus, when you were lads in the heat of battle. You are as much a son to me as my own.”
Marcus bowed his head a little in acknowledgement.
Kayne grinned at him. “If you had moved a
little to the left of me, I would have been saving you instead and then you would have been thanking me.”
“Aye,” Marcus said smiling.
Isobel wondered about that story, and about the lass Marcus had taken in as his ward. How she wished she had lived close by them and shared in more of his life all these past years.
“Dinna tell me you havena regaled the lass of all these tales already,” Kayne said as he looked down at Isobel’s clueless expression. “I see you havena. Well, suffice it to say, he was heroic.”
“He is,” Isobel said. “Always.”
Tibold said, “When you feel rested up enough—”
“We leave on the morrow at dawn,” Isobel said.
Tibold eyed her with suspicion, while the other men watched her, probably trying to figure out her reasoning. Maybe they thought she was afraid John and his men would try something further, when she was not. She just wanted to leave as quickly as possible so they could be at Marcus’s castle, and she could get to know his people and begin some kind of routine. She realized how important that was to her. Having a schedule she was familiar with. And even more so, settling in the chambers with her husband.
“Your reasoning, lass?” Tibold asked.
“I thought we could leave before you had to put up with much more of John and his men. But also, I want so to be settled at Lochaven with Marcus and become acquainted with his people. I want to feel useful.”
The men all smiled at that. She felt her cheeks heat, thinking the men thought part of her usefulness had to do with bed play when it was the furthest thing from her mind. Not that she hadn’t thought of being with Marcus at night in his chambers, their chambers, and being at home, but she had not wanted the others to think of that.
Marcus cleared his throat. “If you are certain?”
“Oh, aye. I am much recovered already. A good night’s sleep and by morn, I will be ready to travel again.”
Again, the smiles. She was fairly certain Marcus had no intention of making love to her again during the night, worrying she might be too sore. She hoped she wasn’t and it wouldn’t be too long before they could share in that blissful state again.
“What say you?” Tibold asked his sons, Angus, Niall, and Gunnolf.
“We will ride when the lady wishes it,” Halwn, next to the youngest brother, said. He was the closest of the Chattan brothers to the youngest the way the two always paired up, Isobel thought. She already liked him for agreeing with her.
“Marcus?” Tibold asked.
“Aye, if that is what the lady wishes. If she feels ready to ride by tomorrow morn after we break our fast, so be it.” Marcus looked a little skeptical though.
She didn’t know why. She felt fine. Well, tired still as she’d only slept a wee bit, and now that she’d had a meal, she was ready to sleep the rest of the night away. But by morn, she would be ready to leave.
“All right. Then that is what we will do.” Then Tibold proceeded to tell them what to do in any eventuality and Isobel nearly drifted off to sleep as she leaned against Marcus still standing behind her. “But Egan, I wish you to stay here. You will ensure we have no trouble with John and his men.”
Egan, the eldest brother and the quietest, nodded, though she wondered if he was disappointed that he could not ride with them.
At one point, the conversation between the men all ceased, and Isobel’s eyes popped open. They were smiling at her.
“Why dinna you take your lovely wife to bed, Marcus. And then she truly will be ready for tomorrow’s ride,” Tibold said.
“The maid,” Isobel quickly said.
“Drummond, have the maid brought up here for questioning,” Tibold told his youngest son.
“Aye, father.” Drummond stalked out of the solar.
The men talked of other matters—about cattle, sheep, and horses, nearly putting Isobel to sleep again. Once she heard footfalls headed for the solar, she sat up straighter.
Tears streaked the maid’s face and her eyes were red.
Isobel knew, as the lady of her own father’s manor, that she could not be swayed by the woman’s tears here either, and had to keep her own emotions out of it.
“Tell me what happened.” Isobel figured that was the best approach.
The woman’s face was so pale, she looked as though she would collapse at any moment. It was bad enough that her chief was there listening in, but with all his sons and Isobel’s husband and the others looking so fierce, Isobel suspected the woman was terrified.
“I beg your forgiveness, my lady,” the woman said, in a choked voice. “The Sassenach said you hadna come here willingly with Laird McEwan.” She glanced in his direction. “He said King Henry and King David would have the McEwan’s head for bringing you here.”
She lowered her eyes. “I didna want his lairdship to get into trouble.”
Over a Sassenach? Isobel wondered if that’s what the woman meant.
“But then you wouldna leave without his lairdship’s say so and I assumed the men had lied. They said you wished to go home. When you wouldna cooperate, the one man shoved me aside and they tried to grab you without your consent.”
“You brought them to the chamber willingly?” Isobel asked, surprised. She truly had thought the woman had been forced to do it.
“Nay, my lady,” the maid said quickly, her eyes widening. “They forced me to go with them. ‘Tis just that I wanted you to know what they said to me. I was a’feared for my life.”
“You did not tell anyone else on the staff that I was in trouble?”
The woman looked down at the rushes on the floor. “I was afraid of the men, and then for taking them to your chamber, I was afraid of the punishment I would receive.”
She dropped to her knees and begged Isobel, “Take pity, my lady. I didna mean you any harm.”
Tibold raised his brows at Isobel and she sighed. “If you were faced with the same circumstance and had it to do all over again, what would you do?”
“They showed me their dirks. And I…if I had not done as they asked, they would have killed me to silence me. Then they would have grabbed another maid and forced her to do their bidding. Had I to do it all over again, I would have run screaming from the chamber as soon as they grabbed for you.”
“Thank you.” Isobel had nothing further to say to her.
“Drummond, take her from here. I will deal with her in a moment,” Tibold said.
When Drummond led the maid out of the room, Isobel asked, “What will you do with her?”
“She will be punished for her complicity. She had ample time to warn my staff that you were in danger.”
Isobel bowed her head. She had felt the same way. And it was the chief’s decision, but she had to know for herself why the maid had helped John’s men.
“Are you ready for bed?” Marcus asked her, and she felt her cheeks flame anew. He smiled down at her, then took her hand.
She bid everyone good night as they bid her the same, and then he led her out of the solar.
“I only just closed my eyes,” she said.
He chuckled. “Aye, lass. I am sure of it.” But he knew differently. He’d had to reposition his body behind hers to ensure she did not fall over, she was sleeping so soundly. He loved her.
He was still beyond enraged concerning John’s tactics.
Although if he had been John, he might have felt the same need to possess everything his uncle had, including Isobel. The nephew, who had nothing, hadn’t earned any of it, but suddenly had it all.
Everything, except the most important thing in the world—at least to Marcus—Isobel.
Marcus knew Tibold would put the two men, who had accosted her under his own roof, in the dungeon. Marcus was glad his wife had been such a hellion and managed to disable the one man. By the looks of it from the way he’d been holding his groin, she’d kicked him there. And the other man was already sporting a punch to the eye before Marcus got hold of him. The villain had been about to hit her and knock
her out when Marcus grabbed his arm and let him have it.
Marcus wanted to sleep with her now, but he also wanted to make love to her again. However, he would wait. He was afraid she would be too tender, and then she still had to ride horseback for hours on the morrow and he didn’t want her to be even sorer.
“You look so serious,” Isobel said as he shut and barred the door.
He smiled then, and began to help her out of her borrowed clothes. But he couldn’t help frowning again as he removed her brat. “You are certain you were no’ injured?”
She shook her head.
When he pulled her léine over her head, he noted bruises on her wrists and arms. He growled. “I will kill those whoresons for laying a hand on you.”
“Nay,” Isobel said, pulling at his tunic. “Let us retire to bed and think of naught but each other.”
He took her small hand and kissed her arms between the bruises.
“I love you, Highlander.”
Her declaration melted away some of his hostility. He would ensure Tibold knew that the men were so rough with her that they had bruised her. Before he could remove her thin, nearly transparent chemise that revealed her glorious breasts, the curve of her hips, and the dark curls between her shapely legs, she tugged again at his tunic.
He smiled and yanked it over his head, and then unfastened his belt and plaid. Sitting on the bed, he leaned down to remove his boots, but she knelt before him and removed them instead.
He ran his hand over her hair and again wished he could make love to her this eve, but he was just glad he could sleep with her in a bed and hold her in his arms the night through.
He rose then, and pulled her from where she was crouching before him. He helped her out of her chemise, and then sat her on the bed so he could remove her shoes. She took him in with her hot-blooded gaze, his body reacting accordingly. She smiled when she saw his staff growing.
“You do that to me.” He encouraged her to climb into bed. He blew out the candles and joined her on the mattress and pulled the furs over them. “Often, lass. When it isna always a good thing.”
“Nay?”
“Nay, no’ when I am about ready to ride a horse, walk, or any number of other things.”
