Stolen Vows (21 page)

Lady MacRae offered Isla a heavy shawl and a parcel of food, and then hurried the girl on her way.

The first half mile was an easy climb along the main road and Isla found the shortcut without any trouble, but she grew uneasy as she walked deeper into the woods.  The thick canopy of trees and overcast sky combined so that it seemed like twilight on the forest floor.  Isla had to pick her way carefully over fallen logs and around thickets of thorns and weeds.  She jumped when she heard animals scurrying through the litter of dead leaves on the ground and shivered when she remembered the wolves that they’d heard at camp on her original journey from Castle Cameron.

It can’t be much further
, she reassured herself, picking up the pace.  She expected to rejoin the road at any moment.  Lady MacRae had assured her that the “shortcut” continued for less than a quarter mile.  After more than an hour, however, Isla still hadn’t found the road.

Perhaps she had made the wrong turn?  Isla tried not to panic and decided to retrace her steps.  Overhead, however, the sky was growing darker.  The shadows had shifted and she wasn’t certain if she was heading back the same direction as before.

She yelped when thunder crackled overhead.  A cold drop of rain fell onto her head and slid down into the neckline of her dress.  It wasn’t long before a second drop pelted down, and then another.  Soon she was thoroughly soaked.  Isla tried to find the trail that she had followed earlier, but the rainstorm had erased her tracks.  There was nothing she could do but pick a direction and march forward, hoping she would eventually emerge from the woods.  She didn’t have any other option.  She was lost.

..ooOOoo..

As soon as he determined that Isla had left the castle, Roan moved his search outside.  He made his way methodically through the village, pressing everyone he met for any hint as to where his wife might have gone and was growing more desperate as the hours slipped past.

It was well after noon before he made any progress.

“I’m sure that I saw her walking to yer sister’s cottage this morning,” Mary, the blacksmith’s wife said.

Roan frowned.  Bridghe and her husband were both away.  What would Isla want at their cottage?

Perhaps to hide from him
?  The prospect was unflattering, but still a relief. The empty house would be the perfect place to hole up and lick her wounds.

Roan looked toward the cottage and his confidence soared.  There was smoke coming out of the chimney.  Surely Isla was there.  He raced across the village green and made a beeline for his sister’s house.  Roan didn’t even bother to knock on the door.  He threw it open and burst inside.

“Isla!” he called out, swooping into the main room.  There was a woman bent over adding a log to the fire - but it was not his wife. Disappointment surged through Roan’s body as he registered his mother’s presence.

“Why Roan!” she exclaimed.  “What a pleasure to see ye, my dear. Were ye just calling out for Isla?  Yer sister is gone.  Why would ye be looking for yer bonnie wee wife here?”

Roan gritted his teeth to hold back the howl of frustration and fear that wanted to escape.  His best lead – his
only
lead – had gone nowhere.  Suddenly, his head was throbbing.  The idea that Isla was gone, perhaps forever, but certainly beyond his reach was so unthinkable that it created a physical pain.

“Mary down the lane said she saw Isla heading this direction,” Roan rasped, “I thought…”

A look flashed behind Lady MacRae’s eyes.  It was only there for a second and Roan wasn’t certain of what he had seen, but he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.  “
Mother…
”

“Aye, son?”

“
Was
she here?” he implored.  He put his hands on both her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes, “ye canna hide her from me.  I need the truth.”

Lady MacRae hesistated, but it was clear she was hiding something.  Nearly beside himself, Roan shook her roughly. “Ye must!”

Roan’s mother released a weary sigh and ripped away from his grasp.  “I promised that I would nae tell ye,” she said after a long pause.  “She does nae want ye chasing after.”

“Chasing after where?” A low rumble of thunder followed his words.  Roan glanced outside the window and saw that the rain had already started in the hills.  “Is she sheltering somewhere near by?  Mother, she canna be out in this?  She could be hurt - or worse!”

“And would that be a bad thing?”
 

Roan clenched his fingers, barely restraining the urge to slap his mother across the face.  “Aye.”

“Yer duty to the clan is -”

“DAMN THE CLAN!” Roan bellowed, advancing on his mother again, “And damn ye if ye’ve sent her away.”

“I dinna
send
her away,” Lady MacRae hissed, refusing to be cowed by her son.   “And I will nae be spoken to in that manner by my own wee boy.  The lass had a notion to leave on her own – the first
wise
notion she’s had since she came here, to my mind – and I merely helped her along.  Tis good for ye both.  Ye would see that if ye were nae so addled by whatever black spell that Cameron has cast on ye.”

“Which way?” Roan barked, lacking both the time and the patience to listen to his mother’s tirade.

“She dinna say.”

Roan muttered under his breath.  He didn’t believe for a second that his mother hadn’t watched Isla like a hawk until she was well out of sight.  He didn’t put it past her to set the girl off in the wrong direction out of spite, but he knew very well where he had inherited his own iron will.  There was no sense wasting more of his precious time trying to make his mother crack.

Roan raced out of the cottage and mounted his horse.  There was only one road that led out of the village. Beyond that, he was on his own.  He could only pray that Isla hadn’t wandered off the path.  He spent hours tracing and retracing all of the routes that led away from Erchlochy, interrogating all of the farmers that he passed along the way, scanning the  horizon for any sign of his wife.

It was well over another four hours before that moment came.  Roan groaned in relief when he saw Isla’s silhouette against the setting sun.  At first, he barely recognized her, swaddled in a thick brown cloak and soaked to the skin, but a gust of wind momentarily blew the fabric back from her face, reassuring Roan that he had found her.

Isla must have heard the horse behind her, but she couldn’t know that her husband was the rider.  She kept her head down and continued walking. 

Roan urged Fiadhiach on just a little further and then jumped from the saddle, running the last few feet before he reached Isla’s side. Then, unable to stop himself, he turned her around and swept her into his arms.

Roan heard Isla’s gasp of surprise and he watched as her eyes focused on his face.  It took a moment for her to realize what she was seeing.  When she did her reaction was not what Roan might have hoped for. 

Isla pushed away from him so hard that she almost fell backwards.  Roan reached out to steady her, but one look from his wife was enough to keep him rooted in place.

“What do ye want?” she spat, looking at him as though he was something nasty on the bottom of her shoe.

Roan cringed, but held his ground.  “I’ve come to take ye home,” he said softly.

“Back to Castle Cameron?” Isla asked bitterly.  “Tis awfully good of ye, MacRae.”

“Isla, dinna start that,” Roan pleaded.  He didn’t know what else he could do apart from plead.  “I’m going to take ye back with me,” he said gently.

“By force if need be?” Isla hissed, taking a step towards him and glaring up her husband furiously. 

Roan winced and had to look away.  “Isla I’m sorry for what I said last night,” he said inadequately.  “But ye have to come back with me.  I canna let ye wander off on yer own.  Anything could happen to ye!” he breathed, his voice saturated with fear and concern.

“And why do ye care?” Isla snapped back.  “I’m only yer hated Cameron wife!  Why would it matter to ye what happens to me?” she yelled.

“Because I love ye!” Roan barked in return.  The words spilled out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them. 

Isla stared at him, her eyes wide, looking just as shocked as he felt.  For a moment, just a second, Roan thought he saw something flicker in her eyes, a tiny flame of reciprocation, but then it was gone.  Flames of anger took its place, and then Roan was left reeling as her hand struck the side of his face.

Roan had seen the blow coming, but he didn’t have the heart to try and stop it.  He didn’t have the right to do so.  Isla must have put her entire body weight behind her hand though, because it was no feeble slap that she delivered.

“Dinna ye dare!” she cried, balling her fists and pummeling his chest.  “Dinna ye dare!” she sobbed.  “Yer just like him!  Ye and Tavish both just want to use me and I - I -”

“Hate us,” Roan said tightly.  He didn’t think that anything else Isla could have said would have brought him so low.  “But that does nae mean I’m going to let ye try and walk back to Castle Cameron,” he sighed wearily. 

His chest ached, and he doubted that the beating Isla had just attempted caused the pain.  She sagged against him, exhausted, probably both from her long walk and her emotional outburst.

“Come on, lass,” Roan breathed, nudging her towards Fiadhiach.  He couldn’t decide if her obedience pleased him or not.  He was relieved that she was cooperating, but she seemed broken, and he had done the breaking. 

One way or another I will fix it,
Roan vowed.  And if he couldn’t make her happy, then at least he would help her escape.

A delegation of Cameron men were due to visit Erchlochy Castle in a week.  If Isla was still miserable, and if she still hated him when the time came - then he would let her go. 

“I need to lift ye up onto Fiad,” Roan murmured.  His wife gave a distant nod and he swept her into his arms, savoring the fleeting touch.  He made sure that Isla was safely mounted, and then he retreated, taking hold of Fiadhiach’s bridal and urging the great horse to begin walking.

It was going to take them hours to get back to the castle.  Roan didn’t know how he would bear the uncomfortable silence between them.  He sighed heavily and hunched his shoulders.  A glance upward told him that it would probably start to rain again before they were halfway back.  Isla was already shivering and he had on only the shirt and breeches from the day before.

They travelled for half an hour before Isla broke the silence.  Roan’s heart leapt hopefully in his chest when his wife called his name, but a look at her grim expression sent it sinking again.

“What will happen when we arrive back at the castle?” Isla asked. 
Had her voice ever sounded so cold before?
  Roan didn’t imagine so.

“Whatever ye want to happen, lass,” he said softly.  He was willing to give her anything within his power. 

“I
wanted
to go home,” Isla hissed.  The words struck Roan cruelly.  He flinched under them.

“Aye, I ken,” he breathed.  “Your kin should be here in a week or two.  I will nae stop ye leaving with them when they go, if ye still want to return to Castle Cameron,” he promised, although it pained him deeply. 

“Well, I’m sure it will help ye in yer efforts to become Laird if I go,” Isla said waspishly. 

Roan cast a tired look over his shoulder.  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he would give up the lairdship just so long as he could keep her with him as his wife, but the words froze on his lips.  She would never believe him.  Did
he
even believe himself?  Would he really give up everything for Isla?

He didn’t know if he was strong enough to let her go.

..ooOOoo..