Prologue #2
“Not well, but I should like to learn if ye’d be willing to share them with me.”
He was interested in something that fascinated her beyond reason. Could he be any more perfect?
“I would be happy to.” How formal she sounded, but luckily Hugh didn’t appear to notice. Encouraged by his easy charm, she added, “If ye wish, I could show ye my illuminated manuscripts of the myths.”
There was no mistaking the admiration in his eyes. “Ye illuminate manuscripts? That is an impressive accomplishment, indeed.”
His compliment warmed her down to her toes, and he hadn’t even seen any of her work yet. Before she could think better of it, the words spilled unhindered from her lips. “Ye had best save yer kind words until I’ve shared them with ye.”
Before he could answer, the castle doors swung open and Isolde and Njord entered. Hugh gave her a smile and bowed his head before turning around. And then he gave a sharp inhale of breath. “God’s bones, William.”
As Hugh strode across the hall, warmth flooded through her. Njord really was William, Isolde’s betrothed, and she looked at her sister, expecting to see her own happiness at how destiny had entwined them together reflected on Isolde’s face.
Her sister appeared to be stunned into silence, and a ribbon of concern flickered through Roisin. Hugh and his cousin spoke for a while and then, without warning, Isolde spun on her heel and stalked out of the castle.
That was unexpected. But she supposed it was a shock and Isolde simply needed a few moments to herself. As Njord, or, rather, William, strode after her, Amma called her personal guard over, but Roisin’s attention was fixed on Hugh, who now stood alone.
She glanced at her grandmother, who was deep in conversation with both Freyja and her guard, before returning her attention to Hugh. Was she truly contemplating going to his side and striking up another conversation?
Before she could change her mind, she slowly made her way in his direction.
She was still some distance from him when he turned to face her, almost as though he’d been aware of her stealthy approach and she came to an abrupt halt at the harsh expression on his face.
Trepidation inched through her. What if he wanted to be alone?
But when he caught sight of her, he smiled, and her apprehension dissolved.
“I am so thankful yer cousin is safe and well,” she said.
“Aye, ’tis a great relief.” For a fleeting moment, his features hardened but then vanished so quickly she half-wondered if she had imagined it. “We shall forever be indebted to the ladies of Sgur Castle.”
Her grandmother came to her side and gave her a curious glance, although she did not say anything. Flanked by Freyja and her guard, and with a great many warriors following her, she made her way to the castle doors.
“Lady Roisin,” Hugh said. “I believe I should accompany Lady Helga.”
“Oh, aye, indeed.” She hastened after Amma although she couldn’t imagine why her grandmother felt the need to take a small contingent with her, if all she was doing was following Isolde.
As they braved the frigid weather, and she took her place beside her sister, Grear hurried up to them with their surcoats and gloves.
They found Isolde with Njord outside the armory and after Amma issued a few cold words to him, she beckoned Isolde to join them.
She and Freyja linked their arms through hers.
“Is this not the most romantic thing?” Roisin whispered. “To think, the man ye care for is none other than the man ye’re destined to wed.”
Instead of agreeing, Isolde merely pressed her lips together. With a start, Roisin realized her sister was furious.
“Romantic?” Freyja whispered, as though she thought Roisin had lost her mind. “That’s not the word I would call this, and that’s for sure.”
“What do ye mean?” Anxiety twisted through Roisin’s stomach at how everything had suddenly gone so wrong. “Njord cares for Izzie, I know it.”
“He’s not Njord,” Isolde hissed, and Roisin flinched at the venom in her sister’s tone. “His name is William Campbell.”
Freyja was fierce as she berated herself for not having seen the truth of who Njord truly was, but Roisin wouldn’t be swayed in her conviction that, however it had come about, Isolde and Njord—William—belonged together.
“Well,” she said, when Freyja paused for breath. “I think ye both are wrong.”
*
The following morning, Hugh led the men into the great hall to break their fast, a gracious invitation Lady Helga had extended after supper last night, although William had left earlier for the kirk, as he wanted to arrange his marriage with Lady Isolde as soon as possible.
Hugh was relieved his cousin was well, although the knowledge William had shared that one of their own men had attacked him and thrown him overboard during the storm was a harrowing prospect.
It was a pity William hadn’t seen who had hit him over the head, but he had no doubt they would discover the traitor. They simply needed to remain vigilant.
And yet it wasn’t the danger William faced that had kept him awake half the night.
It was the vision of Lady Roisin, with her dark auburn hair that framed the delicate features of her face, and her breathtaking emerald eyes.
God knew he wasn’t one to believe in strange fancies, but he could almost imagine how easy it would be to lose his soul in those fathomless depths.
But more than that, her soft voice had echoed in his mind as he’d futilely tried to fall asleep, and he found himself hoping she hadn’t merely been polite when she had offered to show him her illuminated manuscripts.
Lady Roisin and her sisters were already at the table, although there was no sign of Lady Helga. He bowed in greeting. “Good morn, Lady Isolde.”
“Is it?” She gave him a frosty smile, and he had to concede that after the way she’d reacted to the shock of discovering who William was last night, he could have chosen his greeting more carefully. “Well, if ye say so. Good morn to ye, too, Hugh Campbell. Now, ye must excuse me, I need some air.”
With that, she inclined her head at him before leaving the hall.
“Lady Freyja.” He bowed his head at her, relieved Lady Roisin had only two older sisters since if she had five or so, he wasn’t certain he would survive the experience.
“Hugh Campbell,” she responded. “There are a great many things I should like to say to yer cousin but only one thing I have to say to ye. Did ye know William Campbell was on Eigg before ye arrived?”
Bemused, he stared at her. “No, my lady. How could we know that? We didn’t even know he was missing from the ship until we arrived back at Oban. He could have gone overboard near any of the Small Isles for all we knew.”
“Hmm.” Freyja contemplated him as though she wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not.
He was tempted to tell her William had been attacked, but he and his cousin had decided discretion was the best course of action and the fewer people who knew the truth the better.
When it became clear Lady Freyja had nothing more to say to him, he turned his attention to Lady Roisin.
She gave him a gentle smile that was already becoming achingly familiar, and he could not help but return it. “Good morn, Lady Roisin.”
“’Tis another fine day,” she said. “I hope ye rested well, Hugh.” From the corner of his eye, he saw her sister send her a sharp glance, but Lady Roisin didn’t appear to notice.
“’Tis a fine day, indeed.” All the more for seeing her. Thank God he managed to keep that thought to himself. “And I slept well, thank ye.”
It wasn’t the truth, but he’d rip out his tongue before confessing he’d spent half the night with a rock-hard erection and frenzied fantasies of making her his.
He took his place on the opposite side of the table and the conversation flowed between his men and Lady Freyja, although he got the impression she was trying to trip one of them up about the real reason they had come to Eigg.
He still couldn’t fathom why she would imagine they had abandoned William for a week before rescuing him, but the truth was, he was only half-listening to the discussion.
Mostly, he was trying not to stare at Lady Roisin, who hadn’t said a word after he’d sat down.
When they finished, Lady Roisin and her sister stood. He and his men leaped to their feet in response. After a civil farewell, the ladies departed and servants cleared the table, and he and his men prepared to leave the castle and tend to their horses.
As they strode across the hall, he caught sight of Lady Roisin by the hearth, and he couldn’t resist making his way to her. “My lady, I trust I am not imposing.”
“Not at all.” She smiled at him and her becoming blush all but paralyzed him. “If ye are not busy, I wonder if ye would like to see my illuminated texts of the Tuatha De Danann?”
“I should be honored to see them, my lady.”
Before Lady Roisin could respond, Lady Isolde’s voice cut through the air behind him.
“There ye are. Where’s Grear?”
“She’s here.” Roisin shot her sister a bemused glance, and no wonder. Her maid was standing right behind her. “Why do ye want me?”
Lady Isolde didn’t answer but she gave him another one of her frosty smiles and belatedly, realization struck. It wasn’t Lady Roisin she wanted. She wanted him to leave her sister alone.
“Lady Isolde,” he said, with a hasty bow before glancing at Lady Roisin.
She didn’t press her sister for an answer, probably because she knew as well as he did why Lady Isolde had interrupted them.
But when he saw a flicker of anxiety in her beautiful eyes, he knew there was only one thing he could do. With a bow of his head, he retreated.
As he strode to the door, the encounter played on his mind. Lady Roisin was so gentle. Did her two sisters take advantage of her sweet nature? The possibility irked him, and the frigid chill as he stepped outside did little to cool his annoyance.