Chapter 6 #3
In the long moment that passed, Isa focused on the MacDowylt’s face, watching for any sign of understanding. How could he not feel the tension building as the air stilled to stifling around them? Much more of this and she’d be forced to gasp simply for her next breath.
When the corner of the warrior’s eye twitched again, she felt the tension blanketing her drain away.
He released his grip and lifted his hands in front of him as he slowly backed away.
Though MacQuarrie lowered his sword, he held it loosely in front of him, at the ready. Only then did he fully shift his gaze to her.
When she met his stare, she found herself captured. The eyes she’d found so hard and devoid of emotion only moments before were anything but empty now.
There, swimming in the brown pools, she could almost swear she saw something else. Something reaching out to her as if she were being invited into the very depths of the man’s soul.
Ridiculous. Every bit as impossible as his having been old enough to have been at her father’s deathbed to give the oath he claimed.
And yet . . .
In those depths she saw no deception. No dishonesty in the dark waters of his gaze. Nothing there but determination, solid and forceful.
“I can trust you?” To her own surprise, the involuntary words issued from her on a breath.
“You may believe me, my lady. Trust this to my care.”
Believe him? No, she couldn’t do that. His story was simply too unreasonable for the facts.
Trust him? Hardly. She trusted no one.
But allow him to deal with this situation? Leave her future in his hands as he’d asked? That, amazingly, she realized she could do. Especially since she was at a loss as to her next step in this delicate political dance.
She nodded her agreement and he smiled before turning his gaze back to MacDowylt.
That smile, a barely noticeable quirking of the corner of his mouth, obviously meant only for her, slammed into her, weakening her knees and her resolve.
This man, this Robert MacQuarrie, was something she’d never experienced before. Something that both frightened and fascinated her.
It was as if he were the human embodiment of a force of nature.
“Under the authority vested in me by the late Thomas MacGahan, I, Robert MacQuarrie, hereby proclaim my rights as Guardian to Isabella MacGahan. From this moment forward, she is officially under my protection and no other’s. If you want something of her, you must go through me.”
Robert noted with satisfaction that his speech was met by total silence.
He’d take that as a good sign. He’d spent the better part of his ride to the MacGahan castle working out just the proper words to use if he found he needed to remove the young woman from her home.
Granted, the words themselves were drawn from his memories of the hundreds of movies he’d watched over the last decade, but they seemed to have worked well enough.
One look at the mess that was Isabella and he had no doubts as to whether or not she needed to leave here. This was certainly no place for her to continue to live. No, she’d be much better off at MacQuarrie Keep.
What his mother would say when he brought this one home was more than he could imagine. For a fact, Margery would have her hands full turning this female into a lady, but if it could be done, his mother was indeed the one to do it.
“You?” the MacDowylt sputtered. “Dinna you think her grandsire will have something to say about that? She is the laird’s only living heir.”
Robert didn’t wait to see if the man in question spoke up. What the old laird might have to say on the subject was of no interest to him.
“The MacGahan has had the past twenty years to prove his ability to watch over Isabella’s welfare.
As you can plainly see”—Robert cast an impersonal look her direction before facing MacDowylt again—“he’s failed in that task as Thomas feared he would.
It’s in my hands now, and I reject yer offer of marriage on my ward’s behalf. ”
“Thomas said that, did he?” The laird spoke up at last. “When he charged you with her care? What else did he say?”
Robert held his words for a moment, considering what would be in the old man’s mind. Perhaps the truth would convince him and prevent any outbursts of
violence.
“Yer son feared what you might do when you learned of his death. He told me you were not an evil man but that his daughter was ‘different,’ as her mother had been.”
The MacGahan flinched as if he’d been struck. “Thomas told you of Elesyria?” He shook his head as if he could hardly believe what he heard. “That being the case, I canna doubt yer word, MacQuarrie. I relinquish authority over Isabella to you as my son requested.”
“You’ve no a right to do this! You canna break yer word again.
” MacDowylt yelled toward the dais, his eyes flashing with his anger as he turned back to Robert.
“You want the lands for yerself, I’d say, but it’ll do you no good.
They’re owed my people in good faith. I’ll have them if I have to lay waste to every living soul for miles. ”
Robert shrugged, keeping a tight hold on his response.
What he’d like to do was show this blethering young idiot what happens to bullies who go through life spewing threats, but this was neither the time nor the place for such actions.
Swords were being drawn around the hall even now and he had Isabella’s safety to consider.
“And a fine lot of good that will do you, aye? With no one left to work the lands or tend the animals, you’ll be no better off than you are now.”