Chapter 19 #2
Elspeth hugged him and patted his back. “It did. Oh, aye, it did, for it let her see the good.” She stepped back.
“This has gone on long enough anyway. A fortnight of throwing all ye offer in your face is quite enough. The child needs ye back home, I am certain, and we begin to get too close to the weather making travel dangerous.” Elspeth tapped her fingers on her chin.
“I think that, if she doesnae soften in a week’s time, ye will have to kidnap her.
” She looked around when everyone laughed and then grinned.
“Already thought of that, I see.” She rubbed her hands together.
“Then since we have all had the same idea, let us plot out just how to do it.”
Ilsabeth yawned and stretched out in the sun just a little more, careful not to fall off the bench she was sprawled out on.
Simon had sent her another letter and she was still holding it, debating with herself on whether she should read this one or not.
He had been unwavering in his attempts to woo her for three long weeks.
She was tired of her own temper, tired of the way she kept recalling how he hurt her and then getting mad at him because he had.
It was as if she was caught on some millstone grinding away at the same old anger over and over and yet never turning it into anything that could be blown away on the wind. She was beginning to bore herself.
Then, abruptly, the sun faded. Ilsabeth opened her eyes and stared up into three pairs of gray eyes.
Who had let Simon’s brothers in? Even more important, was Simon lurking somewhere in amongst them.
She struggled to sit up, scowling at the three men who just stood there with their arms across their chests.
“What are ye doing here?” she asked as she finally sat up and brushed her skirts down. “Did Simon send ye?”
“A better question is what are ye still doing here?” asked Ruari. “Why are ye nay riding back to Lochancorrie with Simon?”
“Simon and I are discussing things.”
“Nay, ye arenae. By the looks of it ye arenae even reading his letters.”
“I was thinking about reading this one.”
“How many have ye not read?”
“About fourteen,” she muttered, and glared at them when all three shook their heads in disgust. “Ye werenae there when he set me aside so dinnae ye go judging me and my anger.”
It pleased her to see them all take a step back, but Ruari said, “I would think ye would want to ken what he had to say. Mayhap an explanation about why he did what he did, why he regrets it, why he wants to speak to ye.”
Ilsabeth sighed and waved the letter in front of her face.
They were right and that was probably why she wished she could hit them.
She did not wish to lose Simon but she was certainly doing her best to send him far, far away.
It was hard to understand why except that what he had done when he had turned from her had hurt so badly, she did not wish to risk feeling that hurt again.
And that, she mused, was utter cowardice.
One glance told her Simon’s brothers were not going to leave until she read the letter.
Sighing, she sat down and opened the letter.
The first line was not very soothing. He had a daughter?
She read on, cried a little, and then smiled, but if he thought this tale of the little girl would make her run to him with open arms, he needed to sit down and think that out again.
“Weel? What did he say?” demanded Kenneth.
“The letter was to me, nay you. But, if ye must ken, it was all about Marion.”
“A sweet lass who has seen too much for her tender years,” murmured Malcolm.
And a lass in danger of being severely spoiled by four men hoping to make up for the dark things she had seen and suffered, Ilsabeth thought. Annie, she thought, was an angel. Marion had been lucky to have the woman to shelter with during her life at Lochancorrie.
“This is indeed something to think about, but it doesnae excuse him forgetting about me for two months.”
“Forgetting about you?” Ruari shook his head. “Where did ye get that foolish idea? The mon has started to let the cat and dog sleep on the bed with him.”
Ilsabeth could not help it, she laughed.
Ruari had told that little tale as if he was confessing that his brother was doing something unnatural.
Ilsabeth understood that need for warmth.
She had a cat or two on her bed at night as well.
And two people who had so enjoyed sleeping curled up together now being reduced to sleeping with cats for some warmth was just very sad.
“Have ye come to take him back to Lochancorrie?” she asked, unable to hide all the concern she felt, a little leaking into her voice.
“Nay, that is, not unless he wishes to go,” said Kenneth. “We came to find Marion a new pony.”
“Oh, how lovely. Old Gregor just down the road sells the most beautiful Highland ponies. They are perfect mounts for children. I have been meaning to get one for Reid.” She frowned. “And if I get one for him, I suppose I shall have to get one for Elen or she will bellow.”
“Then come and help us choose one for Marion on the morrow.”
She studied them closely for a moment. “This isnae a trick, is it? Ye arenae trying to get me out of here and force me to meet with Simon, are ye?”
“Nay. When Simon saw us coming here, he made us swear to stay out of what is between just the two of you.” Both Ruari and Malcolm nodded vigorously in agreement with Kenneth.
“I ask because I ken nothing about the ponies. Horses, aye, but nay ponies. Ne’er had one when I was small, either.
Ye seem to ken something about them and it would be a help. And ye ken the mon selling them, aye?”
Ilsabeth had to admit that she was very tired of lurking inside the walls of Aigballa. A little visit to Old Gregor to look at his ponies would be nice. She nodded and they smiled. Ilsabeth felt a pang of guilt for mistrusting them so as they arranged a time for the trip.
“Did she agree?” asked Simon the moment his brothers joined him at the inn for an ale and a few meat pies.
“She did after a wee hesitation and accusing us of tricking her,” answered Kenneth. “She will be there after midday on the morrow. We take her to Old Gregor’s down the road to look at his Highland ponies. I felt that since we really are going to buy some, it wasnae a complete lie.”
Malcolm nodded. “Felt bad for tricking her until I saw she hadnae even opened your last letter and then she confessed to nay having opened the fourteen before that. She isnae being reasonable.”
“Nay, and that isnae like Ilsabeth,” Simon said, and sipped at his ale. “She was ne’er coy and this seems a bit like coy to me.”
“She mentioned that ye had forgotten about her for two months and how ye set her aside that day. Seems those wounds cut a wee bit deeper than ye realized.”
Simon nodded. “I was afraid of that. I panicked when she hugged me that day. Kenned that, if I didnae get her away from me, I would weaken and toss aside all worry about madness and that didnae seem wise at that time. So, aye, I cut away from her as if she was something dangerous or even unpleasant. As for two months of forgetting her?” Simon snorted.
“As if I could. And, as if Ruari would let me if I tried.”
The brothers all laughed when Ruari blushed faintly, but he put up his chin and said, “Ye were tossing aside something good and I didnae want to see ye do that. ‘Tisnae often a mon has a chance like ye have.”
“Ruari, have ye made a mess of such a thing before?” Simon asked quietly, although thinking that, at only two and twenty, Ruari was a little young for such a thing.
“Nay, but a verra good friend of mine did. He did what all wanted him to instead of what his heart ached for and he is the most miserable bastard now. He hates the wife he was told was perfect and has to watch the one he loved go about with her husband and children. It eats at him every day and I fear he will grow bitter beyond fixing.”
“Sad to say, he just might. I have seen the same. ‘Tis my opinion that such arrangements for land or bloodlines or property should be banned. We have enough miserable bastards without making more through bad marriages.”
His brothers laughed and soon the talk turned to what to look for in the ponies they would buy tomorrow.
It was late by the time Simon sought his bed.
His empty, lonely bed, he thought as he slid in between the cool linen sheets.
He had to be at his best on the morrow. He needed Ilsabeth and he had to get past her anger and hurt to the heart he was sure she had given him.
The fact that she had been hurt by his cold turning away from her and then two months of silence troubled him, and not only because he had hurt her.
He was going to have to explain himself with the utmost care.
Simon knew he would also have to be completely open and honest about all he felt for her.
He knew he held to his privacy and controlled his emotions a little too tightly, but baring his soul felt like a giant step in the opposite direction.
As he sprawled on his back and stared up at the ceiling, he went over everything in his mind.
With himself he could be utterly honest about what he felt for Ilsabeth.
Somehow he was going to have to get those words out of his mouth.
He would only have one chance because, even though her family was helping him to kidnap her, he knew they would come looking for her if he kept her too long.
“Tomorrow, Ilsabeth, please be in a mood to open your heart to an idiot with a tongue that has ne’er been smooth.”
Ilsabeth winced as she climbed into bed. She has spent too much time on her hands and knees weeding the garden. Her mother was right. She had to stop trying to work until her mind was too tired to think of Simon. Nothing was worth putting her child at risk.