Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Isla was just a lass when Gavin MacLaren arrived at Inverdane Hall. He was a fosterling and he arrived in chains.
He had been strong and tall, the eldest of the fosterlings, and Isla had been impressed by his size. There was pride and fury in his grey eyes, an unrestrained anger that the guards found amusing as they tested him and tortured him.
He fought valiantly, but they had steel while he had wood. They were numerous, and he was one. He always ended up on the ground, face caked with mud, flesh covered in bruises, golden hair stained with blood.
But he always pushed himself up, and he never yielded.
He was a lion, and he did his family proud.
Isla was the only one who showed him kindness. It didn’t seem fair to her that he should be punished for being different. She’d heard stories about lions and wolves and storms over the years, but Gavin didn’t seem all that scary to her.
He was alone, lost, and these sentiments touched her heart.
So after a particularly brutal beating she took some food and water to Gavin. It was a simple meal of bread and cheese. He was sitting facing the wall. He shouted at her to leave. She noticed the tremor of emotion in his voice.
Isla wasn’t going to be afraid of a lion.
She brought his food over and sat with him.
She saw the glistening liquid in his eyes, the quiver of his lips, and suddenly he didn’t seem like a lion at all, just a scared boy.
She told herself that she would look after him, although she didn’t admit this to him.
They sat in silence until he finished. Then he pushed the plate towards her before turning his back.
That continued for days.
Trust did not come easily to him, but eventually he stopped turning his back.
She told him which servants could not be trusted with gossip and some old wounds the guards had. Some of them started limping more after that. Her father wasn’t pleased, but he’d always taught her to think for herself, and she knew that what she did was right.
One evening in the garden Gavin found her, which surprised her. He was silent and awkward as usual.
He held out a crooked wildflower.
“Thank ye,” he mumbled.
Isla took it and laughed, mostly because she was surprised.
Gavin had run away.
He had been fifteen then, and she had been ten.
There had been much for them to learn, but over that decade they had always been close, even if there was something that prevented them from broaching that final distance.
Isla allowed the memory to flow through her like a river. She was a different girl then, and she could not allow sentiment to cloud her judgment in the present moment. She had looked after Gavin.
His sister had come and freed him from his shackles. Inverdane Hall could not longer be his prison because it had been burned… and yet still he was close to her. Still he sought something from her, something that she could not give.
It wasn’t so long ago that the opposite had been true. She had been imploring him, reaching for him, and he had been the one who pulled away, telling her that he was too broken, that her father would never allow it, and a hundred other reasons even though she could feel the tension in the air.
It still crackled now, and if she allowed herself to get near him again it would still be present, and that’s why for both their sakes he had to listen to her and stay away. He had his freedom and now he had to use it; otherwise they would both be ruined.
But she would never forget him. For ten years he had played a big part in her life.
He had helped shape the person she had become because the way he’d been treated helped open her eyes to the cruel nature of her family.
Without it she might have been blinded, eager to believe that her father really was as honorable and merciful as he claimed, but his words told one story while his actions told another.
She would always be indebted to Gavin for that.
That was then and this was now, though. Their paths diverged. She would always have the memories, but they needed to remain in the past.
Isla had kept that wildflower pressed between the pages of a book. It was a secret she was determined to keep from her father. He hadn’t used the knowledge to taunt her, so for the time being she concluded that her secret remained intact.
But the book was back in Inverdane Hall, and it might well have burned with everything else. Perhaps that was the best, she thought. Perhaps the past needed to be burned away.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come,” Isla said.
It was a servant, one with beady eyes that flicked about as though they were drinking everything in. She assumed that he was working on behalf of her father. She assumed that of most people nowadays.
“Yer father hae summoned ye, my lady,” the servant said.
Isla assumed this was coming. Another dressing-down awaited her, perhaps this time with more force since they would be in private rather than in public.
Isla clasped her hands behind her back and glanced at her chest, dresser, and wardrobe.
She’d plucked out strands of fine red hair and pressed them against the openings of all these things, knowing that when she returned if the hairs were on the floor then someone had been rummaging through her belongings in her absence.
Her father was staying in the finest room in the house. It used to be Iain’s father’s room. Iain hadn’t been able to bring himself to sleep in the bed in which his father died. Laird Sinclair managed to wheedle his way into using it easily enough.
The bed was ornate and wide. Tapestries adorned the walls. Laird Sinclair was standing by the window, gazing out at the horizon. He had his hands clasped behind his back as well. Isla immediately parted hers, not wishing to share anything with her father.
“Are ye tae scold me again?” she asked.
“Nae at all. Why would I dae such a thing?”
“For what I said earlier.”
He waved a hand in the air. “Naebody will pay too much attention tae what ye say. In fact it’s good that ye promote peace. It will be all the more striking when the other clans dae the opposite.”
“They are only fighting because ye attacked their Keeps.”
He turned around and flashed a smile. It infuriated her at how untroubled he was.
“Ye should be careful about what ye say, Isla. Such a thing could be seen as treason.”
“Treason?” she thundered, striding into the middle of the room. “Ye burned our home!”
“Our home burned, aye, but I was nae responsible. Now, I wonder what story people are gaeing tae believe, that I would burn my own home or that my son, aggrieved that he was sent away as a fosterling, decided tae take revenge on us. He lost his mind, went feral like a wolf and slew his brothers. It’s fortunate that I took ye away from that place before he could hurt ye as well. ”
Laird Sinclair approached her and stretched out a hand, touching her cheek.
She flinched and stepped back.
“Dinnae touch me.”
Her father sighed. “Och, Isla, what happened tae ye? Ye used tae be such a sweet lass. I think ye hae been spending too much time with the lion.”
“Gavin hae naething tae dae with is.”
“Oh but he does. I wonder how Iain would feel if he kenned that a wild, violent man like Gavin MacLaren is hunting ye, thinking that ye belong tae him. It’s such a pity that his mind was nae strong enough tae cope with ten years away from home. He hae become quite mad.”
“Ye beat him. Ye sent him out tae fight guards every day. Ye tortured him for ten years.”
“I gave him a home. I protected him. I took care of him,” Laird Sinclair said.
Isla stared at him dumbfounded.
“I dinnae ken if ye hae told yerself these lies sae often that ye actually believe they’re true.”
Laird Sinclair shrugged and she noticed a strange look in his eyes, the kind that she’d noticed when she’d asked about his mother. It was no life at all, she thought, to have so many schemes and lies. Was there any truth left inside him?
“It dinnae matter what I believe, only what Iain believes. He is a good young man, although still in need of a father figure I fear. At least he is amenable tae advice from a mentor. He might prove tae be a more suitable heir than my other sons.”
“Kai is yer heir.”
“Kai is a disappointment who turned his back on his kin, something that I hope ye will nae dae,” Laird Sinclair growled, his irritation getting the better of him for a moment, before he donned his composed mask again.
“And I shall deal with Kai in time, but I am debating whether to tell Iain that he should be on the lookout for Gavin. A man as dangerous as him should be killed on sight, dinnae ye think?”
Isla mustered all the willpower she could to stop herself from showing her true feelings.
“If he hae any sense, he will stay well away from here. He is a free man and I dinnae ken where ye got the idea that he feels this way about me. I was kind tae him, that was all. There was never anything more between us.”
“We shall see then, although I dinnae think he will hae any sense. Lions dinnae, in my experience. But ye, my daughter… ye should be careful because ye are playing a dangerous game.”
“I am simply trying tae be a good wife.”
“And ye will be, because remember that I hae spies everywhere and they obey my every command. Yer mother only lives because I deem it sae, I allow it. One word is all it takes and she will die, and I ken how ye doted over her. If ye step out of line again, her life will be the price.”
Isla managed to remain composed when he spoke about Gavin, but threatening her mother was beyond the pale. Her face dropped and she snarled. She closed the distance between them and went to strike him, although she kept her arms locked by her side.
“Ye are a monster and one day everyone will see ye for what ye really are. How can ye treat her like that? Dinnae ye ever love her?”
“She gave me children, all of whom turned out tae be disappointments. Why should I love her?”
“She was yer wife!”