Stolen Vows (5 page)

“Cameron!  I’m telling ye -”

“And I’m telling ye!” Ian snarled, actually acknowledging Roan for the first time in several minutes.  “Two ways, MacRae,” he spat, holding up two fingers and then pointed towards the door.  “Now tell me, which way is it going to be?”

There was, of course, only one answer that Roan could give.

..ooOOoo..

He said yes. 

Isla couldn’t believe that MacRae had said yes!
 
She was getting away with her lie.  More importantly, she would be free of Tavish at last.  Of course, Isla knew that she couldn’t run from the truth forever.  There were two other people who knew what had really happened: Roan and Tavish.

Isla knew Tavish.  She knew how he might try and take revenge, but Roan?  He was a complete mystery, a virtual stranger, and she had just managed to bind herself to him eternally. 

Now that she had time to think, Isla was concerned about the rashness of her actions.
Why
had she done that? Was it because he’d been kind to her?  Because he’d soothed her ankle, and saved her from Tavish? 

Isla wondered what Roan thought about the whole predicament.  He would be furious, of course.  He had every right to be, but how would Roan’s fury present itself?  He was a MacRae.  Isla hadn’t stopped to consider how many difficulties that would create, but now that she paused to think, all she had ever heard about the MacRae’s was that they were violent and brutish, and now she was going to marry one.

..ooOOoo..

The very next morning, Roan was granted all of ten minutes to wash his face and to don a clean shirt before Ian dragged him to the chapel inside Castle Cameron.  As he stood at the front of the aisle waiting for his
bride
to arrive, Lachan finally began to believe that this was all
real
.  These people were seriously going to force him to marry the girl.

Roan took a deep breath, wincing at the pain it caused his bruised ribs, and scowled at the altar.  In that moment, Roan thought he might actually prefer death to this bizarre ordeal. He wasn’t afraid to die.  He had ridden to Castle Cameron fully expecting the worst, but he made the journey because it was his Laird’s command. Roan believed in duty and honor, and in dying for those ideals if it was called for, but he refused to ruin his life without a fight for no reason!  He
was
going to get to the bottom of this sham, even if it was too late to do anything about it.

Roan rued the moment he had spotted the woman by the roadside.  He also cursed himself for being stupid enough to leave his room and to wander the castle alone.  He clenched and unclenched his fists, as he thought about all the chances he had missed to avoid this fate.

Roan refused to turn around and look at his bride when she finally entered the sanctuary.  He kept his back rigid and his head lifted high.  Isla Cameron was going to regret trapping him in her snares.  That was one vow he intended to make and keep.

Roan kept his eyes forward and his jaw set, but glanced down at Isla from out of the corner of his eye.

Roan was surprised to find her staring at him.  Her eyes were riveted on his face.  He was finally able to determine that they were green, the flecks of color brought out by both the mossy hue of her dress and the fading bruises on her cheeks. 
What a sight we must make
, Roan thought.  Both he and his bride were beaten black and blue. Roan would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation if things had not been so deadly serious.

Roan barely noticed when the ceremony began.  Ian had to prod him sharply in the back when it was time to speak his vows.  Roan spat the words out like poison.  His voice grew harsher with every line that he was required to speak.  Isla’s voice, in contrast, was barely a whisper.  She was asked to repeat one line twice, her words barely decipherable. 

Roan realized that Isla’s body was shaking just as hard as her voice when he was asked to take her.  He couldn’t help but frown.  Hadn’t
she
planned this whole charade?  Wasn’t this what
she
wanted?  Maybe she was just as trapped as him?  Roan didn’t really see how that was possible, but something in the way she was standing there beside him, teary and trembling, tugged at his heartstrings.

Roan forced his tone to soften, as he in turn was forced to speak the final words that would bind him unbreakably to Isla Cameron. 
Isla MacRae
, Roan corrected himself bitterly.

When the pronouncement came that they were man and wife, it was not followed by any jovial call to ‘kiss the bride’ – that was fine by Roan, he couldn’t imagine that anything would ever induce him to kiss the woman that was now his wife.

..ooOOoo..

Isla thought she might actually be ill.  All the warmth that she remembered on Roan’s face the day before was gone.  It had been replaced by a burning anger. 
Well what else could she expect?
Roan had never volunteered to rescue her. She doubted that he even understood what he was rescuing her from, but she had altered the course of his entire life to suit her plan. She couldn’t deny that the anger was justified.  The only way out now for either of them was through death.  Isla reflected, rather grimly, that her death might not be very far away if she had misjudged her new husband as badly as she feared. It was a long ride back to Castle MacRae.  No one would be around to prevent an “accident” if Isla were to stumble off a cliff - or onto the end of Roan’s sword. 

Isla stumbled as she walked back up the aisle.  Roan caught her, and offered a puzzled frown. At least that was an improvement on the black scowl he’d been wearing throughout the ceremony.  Isla’s heart gave a painful, guilty beat when she looked up into his beaten face. 
My fault
, she thought,
all my fault
, deciding that she couldn’t really blame Roan if he took his freedom back by force.

No one had organized any of the ceremonies that typically followed a Cameron wedding.  The Camerons were not celebrating this union.  There was no large feast, no dancing and no speeches.  There was a simple meal of roasted Highland beef in the Laird’s hall, a cask of ale and then an awkward nothingness that no one seemed to quite know how to fill.

The hours wore on slowly.  Roan didn’t say a word during dinner.  He ate hungrily and Isla had a nasty suspicion this was the first time he had eaten since arriving at the castle. Roan concentrated on his food and ignored his new bride.  She couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting towards him, though. 

Isla had controlled matters up until now. She had forced their marriage.  It still didn’t seem quite real, but very soon she would be at the sole mercy of Roan MacRae.

“Ye need time to pack I suppose?” Roan said gruffly.  Isla jumped when she heard his voice after such a long silence.

“To pack?”

“We’re leaving,” Roan growled.  “as soon as possible.”  Sitting in the seat next to his sister, Ian tensed.  Roan saw the reaction and shot the other man a fierce glare.  “Unless ye mean to continue keeping me prisoner here?”

“Ye dinna need to be leaving immediately, MacRae,” Ian grunted.

“Oh, I think I do,” Roan snorted in reply.  He looked at Isla and gave her a cool, calculating look.  “She could stay here though, until I’m ready for her back at Erchlochy Castle.”

“Like ye’d come back for her,” James spat in disgust.

Isla drew in her breath with a sharp hiss as Roan turned to look at her younger brother.  She was glad they were sitting far enough apart that Roan couldn’t reach James, because the glint in the MacRae’s eye was murderous.  He opened his mouth to speak, but was prevented from saying anything as the Cameron Laird and his wife had just stood up, everyone else rose to their feet too.

“I ken, MacRae, tis nae how either of us would have wished for this visit to conclude,” Laird Cameron sighed.  “It weighs heavily on my heart.”  He spared a sad smile for his niece, and Isla felt like she wanted to crawl under the table.  “But young men are susceptible to temptation when tis laid in their path.”  Isla could hear the grinding of Roan’s teeth beside her and shivered.  “At least ye have been willing to try and rectify yer transgression in the only manner open to ye.  I believe ye ken what will happen if any harm comes to my niece -”

Isla listened as her uncle continued to talk, softly condemning Roan for a sin that was not his. She tuned out after a while, and hoped that Roan was able to do the same. 

She dipped her head to her uncle and aunt as they left the formal chamber, and then Roan took her arm and led her after them. They rounded a corner and then he waited for her to guide him out of the public rooms to the privacy of her chambers.

Isla didn’t know how she expected to put off the inevitable any longer, but a part of her was still hoping for some miracle - that her father or brothers would intervene and let her go to her own bed,
alone
, in peace - but she didn’t belong to them now. 

She walked as slowly as she possibly could to her room, painfully aware of the insistent pressure of Roan’s hand on her arm.  She wondered if he was going to snap when they were properly alone. Would she close the door and find herself shut in with a dangerous warrior?

“Here,” she mumbled quietly, stopping and nodding toward the door of her chamber. 

Roan didn’t say anything, so she stepped inside.  She felt his hand leave her arm as he turned and closed the door, trapping them both inside.  Isla drew a shaky breath.

She waited for Roan to speak.  Somehow
not
hearing him say anything was worse than if he’d immediately started yelling.

Eventually, Isla turned around to face her husband.  She opened her mouth, but no words came out.  It was impossible to speak - to
think
- with Roan staring at her so closely.  He looked like he was trying to piece together a puzzle that wouldn’t quite fit, and getting angrier about it by the second.

“Well now, I think ye owe me an explanation, dinna ye, Isla?” he breathed quietly.

Isla didn’t understand why a tremor shivered through her body at the sound of her name on his lips, but it did.  She licked her lips and tried to formulate an answer.  She’d had more than a day to think of an excuse. Why had she waited until now?

“Well?” Roan pressed, his voice sharper than before.  He walked across to the window and leaned back against the sill.  “Explain.”

“Tavish told everyone that ye’d compromised my honor,” she finally blurted, her cheeks blazing.

Roan snorted.  “That much I ken.  That much I even understand,” he growled.  “What I dinna understand is why ye dinna set anyone straight.”

“I tried!” Isla lied.

A spark of fury flashed in Roan’s eyes. In less than a breath, he had crossed the room and gripped her shoulders.  “I told ye what I think of liars!” he roared, tossing her away from him and onto the bed.  “Ye might have lied to everyone else, but by God yer going to tell me the truth!”

Isla hit the mattress and curled in on herself, tensing her entire body as she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight.  She struggled mightily against the tears brimming behind her eyes.

“
Dinna
cry!” Roan barked, which only served as the final push to release Isla’s tears.  There was a moment of complete stillness, and then Roan’s hands were on her again, pulling her back up to face him.  Isla shrieked at the touch, but Roan didn’t let go.  “Tell me why ye did it?” he demanded roughly, shaking her again.

“I - I was scared!” she answered.

It took her a full minute to realize that she wasn’t being shaken any more. 

Isla looked at Roan’s face.  There was a great wealth of anger still boiling beneath the surface of his eyes. Isla could see it there, but he was managing to restrain it.

“Scared of what?” Roan asked. 

He was staring hard. Once again, he looked like he was trying to decipher some unfathomable problem.  Isla found it too difficult to meet his gaze, and so she dipped her head, looking instead at Roan’s broad chest as she bit her lip and considered her answer.