CHAPTER 9 #3
No, thought Gwendolyn, Robert would not have been sympathetic to the travails of his niece. He was too concerned with finding Gwendolyn and stealing the stone.
“When we arrived home,” Isabella continued, “my father was relieved that I had been returned safely and was prepared to leave well enough alone. But Robert told him that I was ruined because I had been abducted and forced to spend the night with Mad MacDunn and his men. I assured them that I hadn’t been ravished, but Robert said I was lying.
He convinced my father that no man would ever want me for a wife, and that I would have to be sent away immediately, in case I harbored MacDunn’s seed within me.
That way, once the child was born it could be secretly killed.
My father refused to send me anywhere, saying that he would offer a fortune in gold to the man who would marry me and restore my honor.
And so Robert got his foulest, most brutal warrior, Derek, to offer for me, so that Robert could share his reward! ”
“Surely your father rejected him?”
Isabella burst into tears. “I begged him to. I told him I would rather die than marry Derek. My father said it pained him greatly to see me so distraught, but that when I was older I would see this was the only way to salvage my life. And Robert vowed that as soon as Derek and I were married, he would lead an army here to destroy the MacDunns and avenge my honor.”
So that was it, Gwendolyn mused. Robert was using Isabella’s supposed defilement as an excuse to attack the MacDunns and capture Gwendolyn once again.
And when he had Gwendolyn as his prisoner, he would use any means necessary to force her to give him the stone.
“Since I would rather die than marry Derek, I decided to run away,” finished Isabella miserably.
“But why did you come here? Surely you must hate MacDunn and his warriors after they dishonored you and your clan.”
“I would like to see them all carved into tiny pieces with their bloody, steaming entrails rotting in the sun!” Isabella raged.
She delicately dabbed her nose with her crumpled piece of linen and sighed.
“But they are the only ones who know that my honor remains intact. And besides, where else could I go?”
“But how did you know the way here?”
“I remembered the direction we took when MacDunn abducted me. After I got past the woods, I just kept riding in the same direction. Of course I was absolutely terrified of being eaten by wolves, but I kept reminding myself of how I would rather die than be forced to marry Derek. Finally this morning these two horrid brutes found me. I told them I was looking for Mad MacDunn, and they said they were from his clan and agreed to bring me here.”
“And after you have rested, those same horrid brutes will escort you home,” drawled a harsh voice.
Gwendolyn’s breath caught in her chest as MacDunn entered the chamber with Cameron and Brodick.
“Bella,” said Brodick, concern in his voice, “you look absolutely frightful. What has happened to you?”
“Don’t you come near me, you horrible beast! I hate you!” She flung herself against Gwendolyn’s pillow and burst into a fresh torrent of tears.
“Looks like the lass didn’t get over it, Brodick,” Cameron commented wryly.
“What the hell is she doing here?” Alex asked, his gaze fixed hard on Gwendolyn.
“Isabella has run away from home,” she explained. “And she now seeks sanctuary with you.”
Alex looked incredulous. “Has she lost her mind?”
“Don’t cry, sweet Bella,” crooned Brodick, seating himself on the bed beside Isabella. “Whatever is wrong, we shall fix it.”
“It cannot be fixed,” wailed Isabella pitifully. “My life has been destroyed because of you, you cowardly defiler of beautiful, innocent women!” She sat up and whacked him with the pillow, then fell back and dissolved into tears once more.
“I think she still likes you, Brodick,” observed Ned.
“Would someone kindly explain to me what is going on?” Alex asked, wincing at the racket Isabella was making.
“It seems Robert has convinced Laird MacSween that his daughter has been ruined by all of you,” Gwendolyn explained.
“That’s ridiculous!” scoffed Cameron. “No one ever laid a hand on the lass.”
“And in a bid to salvage her sullied reputation, Robert has gallantly persuaded one of his most brutal warriors to take Isabella as his bride in return for a fortune in gold,” she finished.
Alex regarded Gwendolyn in disbelief. “Surely MacSween turned this warrior down—”
“No,” said Gwendolyn. “MacSween agreed to the match. And so Isabella ran away.”
Isabella’s wailing grew louder.
“Hush, now, sweet Bella,” crooned Brodick, stroking her back. “Everything is going to be fine. You’re safe now.”
“She cannot stay here,” Alex said. “Robert has been lusting for war since we took Gwendolyn, but MacSween has been holding off. We have just sent his messenger home with another apologetic letter and a bag of gold, but if we keep his daughter here against his wishes, MacSween will have no choice but to send an army for her. We must take her back.”
“No!” cried Isabella.
“Really, Alex, you can’t mean that,” protested Brodick.
“I have no choice, Brodick. I cannot risk the safety of the clan because Isabella doesn’t like her father’s choice of a husband.”
“But you are responsible for her situation,” Gwendolyn pointed out.
“It is hardly my fault that she has a milksop for a father and a bastard for an uncle,” countered Alex.
“Isabella did not ask to be abducted by you, MacDunn,” Gwendolyn argued, rising to face him.
“You used her as a hostage so that you and your men could escape with me. Whether you like it or not, by taking her you destroyed her honor, and now she is suffering because of it. She has come here asking for your protection, and it is your duty to take responsibility for what you have done and help her however you can.”
“The lass is right, Alex,” agreed Cameron. “We’ve done wrong by this girl.”
“We’re talking about war, for God’s sake!” Alex thundered.
“That was a risk we were willing to take when we decided to steal Gwendolyn,” observed Brodick. “What does it matter if we fight a war over one woman or two?”
“Taking Gwendolyn was different,” Alex said.
“How?” asked Ned.
Because I needed a witch to heal my son, and for that I would have risked anything, Alex reflected grimly.
But suddenly he realized how terribly selfish that was.
He had not chanced war because it was his duty as laird to save the next MacDunn.
He had done it because he could not bear to watch his son suffer and die.
And because the moment he saw Gwendolyn he knew he could not stand by and watch her be engulfed by flames.
Everyone was staring at him in disapproving silence.
“Fine,” he muttered. “She can stay here.”
Isabella blinked, as if she hadn’t understood.
And then she erupted into ear-splitting, hysterical sobbing.
“I’m glad to see my decision makes you happy,” commented Alex dryly.
“She’s a loud one, isn’t she?” remarked Cameron, wincing. “I feel a sudden need to make an inspection of the outer wall,” announced Alex. “Coming, Cameron? Ned?”
“Aye,” said Cameron, eager to escape the racket Isabella was making.
“I’ll come as well,” offered Brodick.
“No need,” Alex said. “I can see Isabella enjoys your company, Brodick. I insist that you stay with her.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary—” protested Brodick.
“ ’Tis clear she finds your presence comforting,” teased Cameron, following Alex out the door.
A slicing pain carved through Alex’s head as Isabella’s wailing reached new heights. When Robert came with Isabella’s betrothed, Alex would tie him up and force him to listen to her screeching.
A few hours of that and the poor bastard would be well cured of any desire to marry her.
“Aim for his throat! That’s it—now thrust your sword into his gut, where he has left himself open!”
Cameron obligingly shoved his sword forward.
“Brodick, watch out!” shrieked Isabella.
His attention diverted, Brodick leaped back a second too late and ended up sprawled on the ground.
“You’re a trifle slow today, my friend,” teased Cameron, the tip of his sword pressing into Brodick’s stomach. “Is something distracting you?”
“Your lovely wife,” said Brodick. “There’s something wonderful about a beautiful woman carrying life within her.”
Grinning proudly, Cameron turned to look. Brodick instantly raised his sword in a wide arc, sending Cameron’s weapon flying into the air.
“Cameron!” barked Alex. “Stay focused on your opponent!”
“I thought the fight was over,” muttered Cameron, casting Brodick an irritated glance.
“Have some pity, Alex,” Brodick said, rising. “The poor fellow is hopelessly in love with his wife.”
“He won’t be much good to her if he gets his belly carved open.”
“No one will get close enough to me to carve anything open,” Cameron scoffed, winking at Clarinda. “They’ll be dead long before they can so much as scratch me.”
Gwendolyn watched as Clarinda gave Cameron an exasperated smile, then lowered her head once again to the arrow she was fitting with a feather. The moment between husband and wife was fleeting, but Gwendolyn was moved by its tender intimacy.
“If you’re quite finished swaggering before your wife, Cameron, perhaps we could continue training,” suggested Alex.
“Certainly,” said Cameron, still smiling.
“Fine. Brodick, take a group of about seventy-five men over to the west wall and have them practice fighting with just their spears. Cameron, you continue to lead this group in swordplay. Ned, you will take another one hundred to the targets outside the wall and sharpen their archery skills. I am going to have the remainder work on fighting without weapons.”
Isabella added the poorly fletched arrow she had been working on to her meager pile and sighed. “My hands are cramped from all this work,” she complained. “I think I will stop for a while and take a stroll.”