Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
If Isobelle was any judge, Ossian was a wee nervous when he returned to the cottage that night.
He wasn’t shaking, but his eyes couldn’t seem to land on anything for long.
While he waited for supper to cook itself through, the table seemed to interest him for a bit.
Then something outside the window. He headed for the door and claimed he wished to take a gander at the garden spot, but he took his sweet time returning.
Isobelle finally gave up and went outside herself, to see if the man had wandered off in his distracted state.
But he stood to the side of the house, his toes on the edge of the prepared plot of dirt, staring at the stone of the cottage wall.
“What do ye see there, Ossian? A hole that needs a patch? Perhaps ye should take a good look around at the place before ye go searching for a fancy berth on a ship, aye?”
“I’ve already looked, Izzy.”
The air was too heavy in her chest. It would move neither out, nor in. Finally, she forced herself to take a deep breath to help clean out the old air.
“Oh? Ye’ve looked?” She kept her tone light. “No luck, I suppose?”
Ossian pulled his attention from the wall and faced her.
“I thought I’d found some luck. A ship headed to England, even.
A merchant who deals in long bows made from English Oak.
He was right pleased to have me...or so he was this morn.
Then he sent a man to find me, to tell me he’d been mistaken, that there was no room. ”
Isobelle’s spirits took wing. Ossian wouldn’t be leaving so soon after all.
Usually, when he couldn’t look her in the eye, it was because he was trying to find the courage to tell her he was leaving her alone for a while.
And sometimes, the whiles were months long.
Neither of them would admit it, but each time he left, there was a chance they’d never see each other again, what with one bit of trouble and another.
And most of it caused by her hair and the men who felt the need to touch it.
But they couldn’t very well pay a man to protect her—it would take all Ossian’s wages to do so.
And if Ossian did the protecting, there would be no wages earned.
She was simply far too much trouble for one man to handle.
Even plaited, her hair found a way to escape.
But if she could see fit to cut her hair, so she could keep it covered always, she might be fine enough on her own.
She just couldn’t seem to do it.
“I’m sorry ye were disappointed, cousin.” She would not lie and say she was sorry.
“Oh, aye. I was.” He took a deep breath, then another.
“But then I happened upon another man who offered me a position on an island in the Laguna Viva, on one of the octagonal islands, where they gather to defend against the Turkish ships. A pretty price, he was willing to pay me, seasoned warrior that I am. I thought I might finally be able to hire a guard or two to see ye safe, that ye’d need not marry if ye didna care to. ”
Isobelle said nothing, hoping the strange tone in his voice meant he’d reconsidered that proposition as well.
“But as soon as we’d parted ways, another man came to me and told the same tale, that the captain had decided not to trust a Scot. Can ye believe it? Not to trust a Scot?”
“Oh, Ossian.” She shook her head. “What could they be thinking? ‘Tis plain ye’re more able than most. But why not trust a Scot?”
There was a familiar niggling in the back of her mind, wondering if someone’s distrust of anyone Scottish had something to do with her.
But the only trouble she’d caused since arriving in Venice was to anger a bunch of nuns.
And if they were cloistered, how could they have aught to do with seamen? Or men of war?
The only unkindness she’d done since then was to send six men away—only one of whom might have been disgruntled enough to cause trouble for her. But if he had set his sights on her, why would he not wish for Ossian to leave the city?
Her cousin shook his head. “All I can imagine,” he said, “is that some other Scotsman has ruined our reputation in one way or ‘tother.”
Isobelle nodded. That made as much sense as anything else. But as much as she wanted her cousin close, she would not have him insulted. Ossian was a braw, brave man who commanded respect. He was fair and honorable. And considering his talent with most weapons, his loyalty was a boon beyond price.
Righteous indignation filled her gullet and she wished she could champion her cousin’s cause in some way. It was the least she could do, after the man had put his life aside to help save hers. And he’d risked that same life for her a dozen times over since they’d left their beloved Scotland.
“What can I do, Ossian? Who are these cowards who would imagine ye to be untrustworthy? Surely there is someone who would give ye the chance to prove yerself. That is all ye need, mavournin’. One chance to earn their fine opinion.”
Ossian smiled at her then, and she felt as if she’d finally done something to make the man happy. Had she never told him before how proud she was to call him cousin? Or husband? Whichever the moment required?
“Auch, but I’m pleased to hear ye say such a thing, Izzy. For ‘tis true I was beginning to think ye a selfish woman to want me with ye forever more.”
Isobelle gave him a shove and he nearly stepped on her precious garden of dirt.
“Yer a fine man, Ossian,” she said. “Even if ye are daft as a pike. Did I not tell ye? Signora Crescento has already been draggin’ every male in Venice past our door for inspection.
I’ll have yer arse replaced in but a day or two.
” She didn’t plan to tell him she’d rejected every one of them, or that she would continue to reject all suitors.
Ossian walked around her and headed inside.
“Glad I am to hear it, Izzy. For I did find a man who wishes to give me that chance to prove my worth. In fact, he has such faith in me, he’s already paid me a reward for signing on.
I dinna think he’ll be reconsidering like the others.
And since we leave tonight, with the tide, he won’t have much of a chance to do so, aye? ”
She took a handful of his shirt and jerked Ossian backward. He moved quickly, but was unable to stop himself from landing on that arse she’s just referred to.
“Yer a daft, daft man, Ossian Ross. Just because I said it, doesna mean I meant it.”
“Weel,” he said with a shrug. “As long as I’m already down here, I may as well tell ye the rest of it. Save ye the need to knock me doon again.”
Isobelle closed her eyes for a moment, putting off the inevitable. But what could possibly be worse news than Ossian leaving her at the mercy of Venetians, while he danced about on a ship waiting for attacks that rarely came?
He rested his arms on his knees and waited.
“Out with it then,” she spat.
He gave a nod. “The ship is leaving for the New World of Columbus, Isobelle. I dinna ken when I’ll be back. If I’ll be back, ye ken?”
She let the news sweep through her, taking her breath and leaving its mark on her heart.
The day she’d been dreading had arrived, the day Ossian would leave her for good.
She’d overheard enough on their latest voyage to know that hundreds of men and entire ships failed to return from the New World, which meant danger—which meant her fearless cousin wouldn’t be able to resist it.
She only wondered how long he’d been hoping for just such an opportunity.
If he hadn’t been bound to her, he likely would have left Scotland for such a temptation.
Finally, she nodded and backed toward the front of the house. “Me supper’s getting cold.”
He puffed out his chest. “And what of my supper?”
“I suggest ye go find some foosty pesce and stuff yerself.”