Stolen Vows (8 page)

“Dinna say that, Isla,” he growled, tightening his arms around her body.  If he hadn’t found her, who might have?  It didn’t bear thinking about.

“But, Roan, I’ve ruined yer life,” she said, and she sounded so achingly certain of the fact that he didn’t know what to say.  He wasn’t ready to forgive her, but he didn’t know if he could stand seeing her so wretched.

“I would nae say
ruined
,” he said very carefully.

“What would ye say?” Isla hiccupped again.

The only answer that Roan gave was a heavy sigh, followed by an awkward silence.  He wished that Isla hadn’t pressed, and he didn’t know how to respond.  It was really too soon to tell what overall effect her rash actions would have on their lives. 

A corner of his Roan’s mind did realize that his life didn’t need to change dramatically.  He would still see the same faces, hold the same position in his clan and even sleep with the same women if he chose.  For Isla everything had altered: her name, her home, her clan.  She had chosen this route for them, but Roan was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t going to be harder for Isla to adjust.

“Roan?” Isla said when the silence had drawn out for too long.

“I -” he began, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.  “Come in,” he barked. 

A maid walked in with a large breakfast tray.  She placed it down on a table, then curtsied, blushed, and dashed away when she caught sight of the newly wedded couple in bed, still wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Oh dear,” Isla mumbled, turning crimson as well.

Roan just chuckled.  He started to press a reassuring kiss on the top of his wife’s head, but in the end thought better of it.  He rolled out of bed, reaching for his clothes with a decided lack of concern for his nakedness.  Isla had proven less skittish than he’d imagined.  She just needed to get a little more used to the idea of being married, before he attempted the next step. 

Roan kept his back to her, but it was still more than he’d thought she’d tolerate. 
Oh my
, he was sure that he heard Isla whimper, but when he turned to face her, clothes now firmly in place, she was staring fixedly at her hands.  Roan smiled to himself and quickly finished dressing.

“Are ye going to join me for breakfast?” he asked, looking hungrily at the tray the maid had brought.

Could men always be distracted by their stomachs
? Isla wondered with a frown.  Her brothers were just the same.  She was still aching to know Roan’s answer to her question.  If she hadn’t ruined his life what had she done?  But she didn’t think revisiting that subject was a good idea, yet.

“Are ye nae hungry?” Roan pressed when he got no response from the bed, merrily helping himself to a bowl of steaming porridge.

Isla smiled, despite everything.  She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it simply made her happy to see him happy? 
Happier
, Isla amended silently.  There were still shadows in his eyes.

She slipped out of bed and made a quick dash for her shawl, wrapping it tightly around her shoulders before joining Roan at the table.  She picked at the breakfast; unlike her husband, Isla really couldn’t say that she was overly hungry.

“How long do ye suppose it will take to get to Erchlochy Castle?” she asked as she nibbled at her food.  She was still having trouble getting used to the idea that she was leaving her home, her friends, and her family for a new place and people.

“Two, maybe three days,” Roan informed her.  “It depends if there are any problems on the roads.”

“What kind of problems?” Isla asked curiously.

“Trees coming down mainly and there are some stretches of road that flood,” he paused and glanced out of the window at the clear sky.  “We should be fine though.  Tis still too early in the year for the weather to turn really nasty.”

Isla nodded her head and took Roan’s word for that - her own experience of such things was minimal.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Roan said, catching his wife by surprise.  “We dinna have to leave today if ye dinna want to.”

“I want to,” Isla replied, with more certainty than she felt.  “Best to get it over with.”

“Well, I should go down to the stables and see what’s going on then,” he said, moving towards the door.  “Ye’ll be all right here on yer own?”

“Fine.”  Isla nodded, intrigued as to why he’d suddenly asked.  He had left her alone for hours the day before and not worried.  What could have possibly changed overnight? 

“Good,” Roan said.  “I will nea be long.  Ye should start getting ready.  If we’re going to make it all the way to the Three Oaks Inn before nightfall we’ll have to leave soon.”

Isla nodded again, and then stared down at her lap as she listened to her husband leave the room.  She hadn’t been alone for more than a couple of minutes when there was a light knock on the door.  For a second Isla felt a fluttering of panic, but then reasoned that Tavish wouldn’t bother to knock on her door.

“Come in,” she called.  Isla watched the door, as it swung open, and then smiled when Gara stepped into the room.

“I made sure to wait until he was gone,” Gara said with a small smile of her own.

“Who?” Isla blurted dumbly.

Gara raised an eyebrow.  “Yer
husband
of course!  Bessie told me what she saw when she brought yer breakfast up,” she teased.  “I was really worried about ye, but -” she giggled, and her eyes were shining with curiosity.  “Was it amazing?” she asked, feigning a swoon as she sank down onto one of the fireside chairs.

Isla shifted uncomfortably, a blush creeping into her cheeks.  “I dinna ken I’d -”

“Did it feel any different to what happened before ye were married?” Gara asked eagerly, ignoring her friend’s hesitance.  “Was this time special?  Was he gentle, because I heard some of the kitchen girls talking, and they definitely mentioned blood?”

“Blood?” Isla repeated, her eyes widening.

Gara gave her head a vigorous little nod.  “They said it hurts at first, but only for a moment, and then it feels -” Gara gave another giggle, and Isla wondered if they were even talking about the same thing.  She knew what the kitchen girls could be like with their stories.

“It dinna hurt at all,” she said, in a voice of great authority.  Gara looked relieved, but also a little let down, to be informed of her mistake.  “It was… nice,” Isla said slowly, thinking that she should portray the night in a positive light, while really she was rather confused about the whole affair. Could one really fall pregnant from what she and Roan had done?  Something important seemed to be missing.

“Just nice?” Gara sounded disappointed.  “Well, maybe tis something ye get better at with practice?” she wondered brightly.  “Anyhow, ye can tell me the details while we get ye dressed,” she grinned slyly.  “I told yer maid I’d help ye today.”  Gara’s smile finally faltered.  “I suppose tis true, ye really are leaving this morning?” she asked sadly.  Isla nodded unhappily.  “I’m sure it will nae be so bad,” Gara said, trying her hardest to sound positive.

“Ye dinna think so?” Isla asked glumly.  “I’ll be surrounded by strangers.  Everyone there will hate me.”

“Why would they hate ye?” Gara frowned. 

Isla bit her lip, cursing herself for letting her tongue run away with her, but luckily she was saved from giving the true answer to her friend’s question.

“Because yer a Cameron?” Gara sighed.  “I wish there was nae all this hatred between the clans,” she said, shaking her head as she went about fetching Isla’s undergarments and clothes.  “Maybe, in time, yer marriage might help to heal things though?” she said thoughtfully.

“Do ye think so?” Isla wrinkled her nose doubtfully, and set about washing her face and hands with the warm water Gara had brought for her.

“Well, yer children will be half-Cameron and half-MacRae,” Gara pointed out practically.  “They’ll belong to both clans.”

“Or neither clan,” Isla muttered, but not so that Gara could hear.  Her friend was clearly trying her hardest to stay positive.  “I wanted to wear my blue dress for the coach ride.  Tis the warmest one I have,” she sighed wearily, wanting to talk about something uncomplicated and mundane. 

Isla didn’t pay much attention to what was happening as Gara helped her dress.  She didn’t even glance at her reflection in the mirror while her friend brushed, plaited and fixed her hair.  She stared instead at the heavy gold ring that now adorned the forth finger of her left hand, playing with it nervously, and then tensing when the bedroom door opened.  The tread of heavy boots announced her husband’s return.

“Everything’s ready to go, Isla,” Roan’s said from across the other side of the room. 

Gara squeezed Isla’s shoulder tight and dropped a kiss onto her cheek.  “Tis going to be all right,” she whispered.  “Yer going to be fine.”  And then before Isla had a chance to respond, the other girl turned away, curtsied to Roan and slipped out of the bedroom.

“We’re really going then,” Isla sighed, more to herself than to her Roan, but he heard and nodded. 

“Aye.”

..ooOOoo..

Watching Isla say her goodbyes was surprisingly difficult.  Growing up surrounded by women, Roan had seen how important friends and family were to them.  Here he was, ripping her away from everyone that she knew and loved.

No!
  A voice argued vehemently. 
He
was not the one doing the ripping, this was all Isla’s doing.  It felt harder to blame her now though, now that he understood her reasons.  She had no right to act as she had, but he was beginning to understand what had pushed her to it. 

Of course, that wasn’t going to help him greatly when he turned up at Erchlochy Castle with a Cameron bride.  Roan tried to ignore that problem for just a little longer.  He turned to watch Isla make her final farewells. She shared a long embrace with the woman he’d found in her room a half an hour beforehand.  Then she moved onto her brothers and father, hugging each of them fiercely, before saying a few parting words of thanks to her uncle, the Laird.  At least he’d married well, Roan through dryly, bracing himself for one final lecture as Ian walked over to him.

“Ye lay another finger on -”

“This is getting repetitive and boring, Ian,” Roan growled.  He watched the other man’s lip twist in a sneer.

“Isla is
still
my sister, MacRae.”

“But now she’s also my wife,” Roan breathed harshly.  “That means she’s now my concern, and nae yers.”  He paused and then gambled.  “If ye really thought I was going to hurt her then ye would nae have let me marry her. Ye would have finished it that day, when ye came to see me in the castle dungeons,” he argued roughly, watching Ian Cameron’s face for his reaction.

There was a flicker of something in the other man’s eyes.  It wasn’t respect, but it might have been reluctant agreement.

“All right, MacRae,” Ian nodded.  “But dinna think that means yer safe.”

“I would nae dream of it,” Roan grunted, turning back to find that Isla was now waiting beside the wagon that would carry them home.  “Ready lass?” he asked, not waiting for her to answer before offering his hand to help her up into the cart. 

Roan followed after her, turning his back on the Cameron clan with a sigh of relief.  Isla waved and shouted her goodbyes, until they were out of sight of the castle.  Then she sank back onto her seat, her face downcast as she studied her lap.

“Do ye suppose we’ll ever come back?” she asked.

Roan thought that he could live the rest of his life quite happily without ever setting foot inside Castle Cameron again, but he didn’t think that was the reply Isla wanted. For some reason cheering her up was important to him.

“I should think so,” he said carefully.  If he’d been having any doubts, the instant smile that lit Isla’s face banished them.