Magick in the Mist #3
His gaze dropped to her mouth and a slow, sensual smile curved his.
“You must be new to Leod. I doona recall seein’ you before and I’d remember if I did.
” His voice was low, a seductive purr. The intention of his remark was not lost on Isobel.
While a part of her acknowledged his attraction pleased her, the fact that as a married man he’d give his attention to another lass tempered her pleasure – even if that lass was herself.
“Doona be shy, angel, give me your name,” he cajoled, taking a step towards her.
“Mam!” Connor raced to her side. Tears streaming down his wee face, he wrapped his arms around her legs. “Robbie ate the cakes. There’s none left for my da,” he sobbed.
Ewan’s startled eyes jerked from Isobel to his son then back to her. “Who are you?” His blue eyes darkened to black.
“Isobel—”
He cut her off with a curse. “Where’s Roderick?” he grated out, ignoring her shocked gasp.
“His chambers, he’s—”
“I’m goin’ to kill the meddlin’ bastard,” he roared as he charged up the stairs. The two men who’d stood with him cursed and gave chase.
Ewan slammed into Roderick’s darkened chambers and crossed to where his grandda lay in the massive four-poster bed with his bedcovers drawn to his chin, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Is that ye, laddie?” Roderick asked, raising a feeble hand in Ewan’s direction.
“Tell me I’m no’ dreamin’ and my favourite grandson has returned home to me. ”
“I thought I was your favourite,” Callum quipped with a grin.
Ewan shot his cousin a quelling look then returned his attention to his grandda “Open your damn eyes and you’ll see you’re no’ dreamin’. But when I get through with you, you’ll wish you were.”
Roderick opened his eyes slowly as if the effort cost him dearly. “Och, laddie, ye have come back to me before I die.”
Callum and Randall snorted their amusement from behind Ewan.
“You’re no’ dyin’. Callum saw you out rollin’ aboot in the heather.
” Ewan reached over and plucked a sprig of the stuff from his grandda’s hair and held it up to him.
“Now, tell me why Isobel Forbes is here?” And why the hell did his son call her mam?
That was something else he wished to know.
Christ, he’d been so furious he hadn’t even greeted Connor.
Beneath the heat of his anger a remnant of his strange reaction to the lass simmered.
His response to her had thrown him off balance.
The lass had a sweet face, to be sure, and what looked to be an even sweeter body but, as Ewan had known his fair share of women more beautiful, it did not explain the effect she had wrought on him.
“I doona ken where that heather came from. I’ve been abed—”
Ewan threw back the covers to reveal his grandda lying abed with his boots and trews on beneath his nightshirt. “Explain yourself.”
Roderick scowled at him. “What would ye have me do? I thought I was soon to die and fer all I kent, ye had. I couldna leave the bairns without someone to see to them, so I found ye a wife.”
“I doona want a wife and, as you can see, I’m no’ dead so you’d best go down there and send the lass on her way.” Ewan pushed past his cousins, who attempted not to laugh. He had to leave before he throttled the three of them.
“I canna do that. The bairns love Isobel and ye’re already wed to the lass,” Roderick mumbled the last under his breath.
Nay, he couldna have heard him right. Hand on the latch, Ewan turned. “What did you say?”
His grandda scrambled from the bed and positioned himself behind Randall and Callum. “Ye’re wed to the lass. I wed her to ye by proxy more than six months ago.” Roderick squealed when Ewan lunged for him.
“Doona do it,” Randall said as he and Callum fought to hold Ewan back.
He shook free of their hands. His blood boiled and his gut coiled in a painful knot.
“You’ll no’ get away with this. I’ll seek an annulment.
I’ll no’ let you tie me to another lass of your choosing.
” He’d not allow grandda to force his hand.
Ewan and his sons had barely survived the hell Lorna had put them through.
Olivia worried the heart stone in her hand, the ancient script worn smooth by generations of Forbes women.
Her gift of second sight had never failed her, but nor had a lass waited as long as Isobel for her true love to claim her.
Over the last year, no matter how hard her granddaughter had tried to hide it, Olivia had noticed the toll the wait had taken on Isobel’s resilient spirit and sunny nature.
It was then Olivia had decided to give the Fates a nudge.
She’d sent a missive to Roderick Mackenzie proposing the match between their grandchildren.
She only hoped by doing so, she hadn’t destroyed Isobel’s chance for happiness.
Ewan Mackenzie’s love for his sons had been obvious, as obvious as his shock at the bond that had developed between the bairns and Isobel. If not for Robbie and Connor, Olivia felt certain she and her granddaughter would already be on their way to Craigievar.
During the evening meal, Ewan’s anger at his grandfather had not extended to them.
He’d been coolly polite. Since Isobel, along with everyone else in the keep, had heard that Ewan intended to annul the union, Olivia had been proud of how her granddaughter had conducted herself.
Beautiful and poised, no one would’ve known she was heartbroken.
A quiet knock drew Olivia’s gaze from her granddaughters sleeping form.
For a brief moment she wondered if Ewan had come to his senses and decided to join his wife in their chambers.
Considering he’d been well in his cups by the time she and Isobel had left the hall – thanks to his cousin’s attempts to get him there – she doubted it.
But he was a verra braw lad so one could not be sure and Olivia hadn’t missed the furtive looks he’d cast in Isobel’s direction when he thought no one was looking.
Each time the bairns made Isobel laugh, his gaze would seek her out.
Aye, Olivia thought, all they needed was time.
She opened the door to see Roderick pacing the corridor, his shock of white hair dishevelled. “How’s our wee bonny, Livie?” he asked, coming to stand beside her.
Olivia was torn between wanting to shake him for wedding Isobel to his grandson without the young man’s knowledge or consent, and wanting to kiss him for the love and concern he showed her granddaughter.
“Her husband wants no part of her, Roderick. How do ye think she is?” At his crushed expression, she sighed. “She’ll be fine. She’s sleepin’ now. I slipped a wee somethin’ into her mead.”
“Good, ’twill make it easier to carry out my plan. Leave it to me, Livie, I’ll make it right. The lad judges all women by Lorna’s actions. He just needs time to get to ken our Isobel. Randall, Callum, bring him along now,” he called down the torch-lit corridor.
His grandsons, carrying an unconscious Ewan between them, staggered down the corridor. “You ken, grandda, if no’ for the fact the lass would be shamed by our cousin’s actions, we’d have no part in this,” Randall growled at his grandfather as they entered the chambers.
Roderick waved a dismissive hand at his grandsons. “Now, Livie, do ye think ye can make it look as if they’ve had …” He flushed, tipping his chin towards the bed where the lads set their cousin beside Isobel.
Realizing what he intended, Olivia grinned. “Aye, ’tis a good plan, Roderick.”
Callum shook his head. “One is as bad as the other, Randall. I for one doona wish to be here when Ewan awakens. We’ll leave for home at first light.”
Three
Ewan inhaled the delicate floral scent, letting it fill his senses.
It had been a long time since he’d smelt something so good, so clean and pure.
A stark contrast to the smell of sweaty males, horseflesh and battle he’d grown accustomed to as a sword for hire.
But it didn’t compare to the warm, silken skin his hands caressed – soft, lush, womanly curves.
Sweet Christ. His eyes shot open. It wasn’t a dream.
He held a woman in his arms, his face buried in a mass of heather-scented chestnut curls.
He groaned. It was Isobel. What the hell had possessed him to crawl into her bed?
As he wanted the union annulled, it was the last place he should be.
But the question had barely entered his mind and he knew the answer already.
No matter how angry he’d been at finding himself wed to Isobel, last eve he’d been unable to keep his gaze from her delicate features, the maternal warmth in her gold-flecked eyes as she looked upon his sons – the feminine laugh that had made him smile despite himself.
He’d been as enchanted by her as his sons appeared to be, but Ewan knew better than most how adept a woman could be at concealing her true nature.
He carefully eased her away from him. She mumbled a protest and snuggled back into place against his chest with a contented sigh. The door to his chambers creaked open and his grandda stepped inside with a self-satisfied smile. “Och, laddie, ’tis glad I am to see ye came to yer senses.”
Isobel stiffened in Ewan’s arms. She eased back, her eyes widening as they met his.
With a dismayed gasp, she sat up, the bedcovers pooling at her waist. The door slammed shut. “Doona worry, henny, I didna see a thing.”