Chapter 23
“Goddammit!”
Robert stood in the center of the quiet cottage, furious at his own stupidity. He should have known better. Should have guessed Isa was up to something the instant she gave in so easily.
But he hadn’t. He’d allowed himself to be tricked because he’d wanted it so badly.
“Goddammit to hell,” he fumed, stomping across to the table.
She’d left their provisions all packed and ready to go like she was fool enough to believe he’d leave without her.
“Robbie?”
He turned at the sound of the little voice, hurrying to the boy’s side.
“Hush now, lad. Try to get yer rest. I’m going out for a bit to find Isa, and when we return, we’ll all be leaving this place.”
Faerie Magic be damned. Whether she wanted to or not, he intended to get her to safety if he had to tie her to the back of his horse.
Perhaps she had been just a wee bit hasty in her decision.
Isa stopped running and bent over at the waist to catch her breath, the energy from her white-hot fury beginning to wane.
The betrayal she’d felt when she learned Robbie had withheld the news of Annie’s murder had stoked the fire burning in her belly.
A fire of hatred and the need for vengeance.
Not that the anger had gone away, only that she’d had time for reason to kick in.
Reason and the vaguely unsettling feeling that something important wasn’t as it should be.
She straightened, and looked around to gauge her bearings, trying to determine how far she’d come. She’d specifically chosen to cut through the forest, avoiding the trail just in case Robbie tried to look for her, but that made it more difficult for her to judge her progress.
Not far, she’d guess.
Standing here looking around like a lost sheep certainly wouldn’t get her where she was headed. Wiping a hand across her perspiration-slicked forehead, she pushed back the damp curls that tickled her face, squared her shoulders and started out again, at a slower pace this time.
One foot in front of the other.
“One, two, one, two,” she murmured, keeping time with her footsteps.
Her father had taught her to count, and in languages other than her own.
“Unum, duo . . .” she said aloud, recalling how lovely the Latin had sounded rolling from his tongue as he’d read to her.
“Alpha, beta.”
She shuddered, remembering her dislike of the ancient Greek language her father had deemed so important to learn.
There had been something about using letters for numbers that had confused her, even when she was older and her grandfather had gone over it, again and again, until he’d lost his patience.
Her footsteps faltered at the memory.
How could she have forgotten all the time he’d spent trying to carry out her father’s wishes for her?
Had she been so determined to separate herself from him because of his hatred for her mother that she’d locked away all those little moments where he tried to show her kindness?
And only now, when it was too late, she remembered.
Pain seared her heart at the knowledge of her loss. Her grandfather had cared for her. The realization brought a fresh onslaught of sorrow and memories.
She’d been thirteen. When he’d accused her of not trying hard enough to learn the Greek she’d yelled at him, demanding that if he wanted her to learn another language he should teach her in her mother’s language.
His face had paled and he’d stormed from her room, and after he’d gone, she’d cried for hours.
The rains had lasted for days afterward, coming down so hard the bailey had been riddled with running water that looked like miniature rivers.
Her breath caught and she reached out to the nearest tree to steady herself.
That was it! That was what wasn’t as it should be.
She turned to run home, screaming when she smacked directly in the wall of man standing behind her.
“Christ, woman,” Robert panted, grabbing Isa’s wrists to keep her from pounding her fists against his already aching chest. “It’s me.”
She looked up at him then, gulping in great gasps of air, her eyes wild.
When it became apparent she was calming, he let go of her and she backed away, but not before smacking his arm with her open hand.
“What in the name of all that’s holy were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that?”
He hadn’t sneaked, hadn’t made any attempt to cover the noise of his approach. She’d been oblivious, and that had only served to spark his own anger.
“Do you never give any thought to yer own safety? I could have been anybody. One of Lardiner’s men or even the man himself. You were blundering about out here like some blind woman when I found you.”
Vacillating between anger and fear, he glared at her, making no move as she gathered her wits. Fear finally won and he reached out, pulling her to him, crushing her to his chest.
“Christ, Isa.” He hadn’t realized how worried he’d been until this very moment and now that he’d found her, unharmed, his stomach fluttered as if it might empty its contents right here on the forest floor. “Coming out here alone was an incredibly stupid thing to do.”
“Yer right. I admit it,” she said against his chest, making no attempt to pull away from him. “And I’m so glad you’ve come for me, Robbie. Everything’s gone all wrong, and I dinna ken what to do anymore.”
Her words were all he needed to hear.
“I’ll tell you exactly what yer going to do. Yer coming with me, and when we get back to the cottage, we pack up Jamie and head for MacQuarrie Keep. And I’m no letting you out of my sight until we reach there, so dinna even think of trying something like this again.”
“I promise,” she whispered, dragging her hands down her cheeks to wipe away the tears.
He hated seeing her so upset, but time was clearly running out for him. If this was what it took to get her to agree to leaving her home, then so be it.
They made their way back toward the cottage in silence, his arm protectively around her shoulders until she dragged her feet to a stop, pulling against him.
Robert clenched his teeth to keep from yelling out his frustration. If she’d changed her mind again, he thought, he might lose his mind.
“We’ve no time to waste, Isa.”
He nudged her forward but she ducked out from under his arm, turning to face him.
“Have you noticed what a lovely, calm day it’s been? No a cloud or drop of rain in sight?”
The weather? The daft woman wanted to discuss the damned weather?
“It’s a beauty,” he ground out, catching up her hand and starting forward, all but dragging her behind him. “An ab-so-freaking-lutely gorgeous damned day. All right? Now let’s get on with it.”
Isa planted her feet and pulled her hand from his, crossing her arms around her waist as if she were going to be ill.
“That’s just it. There should have been thunder and lightning, and the ground itself heaving up and breaking apart under our feet. I was that angry, Robbie.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He reached for her again but she stepped back. “You’ve come to yer senses now and we’re doing what we need to do.” Please, God, he prayed, let her have come to her senses.
She scrubbed her hands over her face before clenching them together in front of her.
“You dinna understand what I’m trying to tell you.
This very morning, though it seems a lifetime ago now, you said we needed to talk.
You were right, but that’s because I’ve something I’ve need to tell you before you take me anywhere near yer family.
Something I’ve no wanted to share. I’m no the madwoman I pretended to be for so long. ”
“We established that fact quite some time ago, did we no?” Robert did his best to tamp down his impatience. Obviously she was headed somewhere with this prattle, and obviously wherever that somewhere was, it was important to her.
“Aye, we did.” She paused to take in a deep breath, lifting her chin defiantly before she continued.
“But that’s no to say I’m like everyone else.
My mother was one of the Fae folk and, as a result, I’m possessed of a terrible magic I canna control.
Or . . .”—Here she stopped, lifting her hand to stare at the duplicate of his Guardian Mark.
“I was possessed of such a magic. But now . . .”
Her voice trailed away as she looked up at him. Her expression so lost, so frightened and unsure of herself, it dug into the small places of his heart and made him feel small and powerless.
Once again, he gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly to him. “Tell me of this magic, Isa, and of what’s happened to it.”
“That’s just it. I dinna ken what’s happened—only that it’s gone and that I feel somehow less without it.”
He nodded and tucked her back under his arm, gradually urging her forward, one step at a time, as she continued to speak.
“Before this morning, before this”—she held up her hand as if to show him the mark—“it was as if the weather, as if all of Nature herself, were somehow tied to my emotions. When I was sad, it rained. Happy? Bright, sunny, warm days. And if I were afraid, or worst of all, angry, it was as if hell had been released from the very clouds.”
So it was true. He felt as if his heart paused in his chest, just long enough for him to have to work at that next breath. Was there no part of his life the Fae hadn’t penetrated?
His mother said the Fae had predicted his birth while she herself was yet a child, and, for a fact, he knew they would have a hand in his death soon.
Confirming that Isa was one of them simply tied the whole of his life up into one tidy little package of Faerie interference.
Yet, in spite of that, he couldn’t hold them to any blame. All things considered, who was he to question the workings of the Fae? If not for them, he wouldn’t have had a second chance at life.
Wouldn’t ever have met Isa.
Wouldn’t have discovered his Soulmate, no matter how few the days he was destined to share with her in this lifetime.
And that was the true crux of the pain he suffered at this moment. Though he’d danced his way all around it for days, there was no denying it any longer.