"Are ye sure ye can ride all the way?” Iain asked as he helped Islaen mount what he thought was far too much horse for her.
"Aye, Iain, I will be fine. Beltraine brought me all the way here. He can take me back too. Can ye not, me fine beastie?” she softly cooed, patting the stallion's strong neck. “Do ye think your mares will be pleased with this new blood in your stables, Iain?"
"The horse is yours?” he asked in some surprise even as he began to mentally pair the fine stallion with several mares at Caraidland.
"Aye,” replied Alaistair as he rode up beside his daughter. “He took to her, so as he grew I decided she might as weel have the great brute. She is a muckle fine rider, lad, and can handle such a horse."
When they started on their way she did not even look back. Glancing at Iain she was glad she had overcome her lingering terror from the attack enough to insist that they remain at court two extra days so that his wound closed properly. He had been ready to leave as he had promised, having worked hard to clear away all his remaining business, but she had seen that he was not quite ready for the long ride home.
Despite her near retreat from court society and her preoccupation with Iain, she had noted two changes in court. Lord Fraser had simply and abruptly disappeared. Considering the beating Iain had given the man Islaen was not sure how Lord Fraser had managed to leave but, since a few of his kin and all his men had also vanished, she suspected the family had managed his swift but quiet exodus to avoid scandal. Lady Mary had also disappeared and Islaen was sure the woman had fled out of fear that Lord Fraser would implicate her in his reprehensible act. Islaen had never mentioned Lady Mary's part in the attack to Iain and was not sure she should. It was enough for her that the woman and Lord Fraser were gone. She fervently hoped she would never have to set eyes upon either of them again.
By the time they stopped for the night, Islaen felt exhausted and ached as if all her fading bruises had been renewed. Even the wound upon her leg throbbed a little. She realized that Iain was also suffering when he grumpily apologized for not having a tent for them, sulkily adding that he had not anticipated towing a wife back to Caraidland. Iain was not a cross-tempered man and she knew instantly that his wound troubled him.
She suspected there was an added reason for his gruffness when they bedded down for the night. When her backside came up against his loins as he held her close there was no ignoring his arousal, an arousal that would have to go unsatisfied. With her kin, Alexander (and she still puzzled over his sudden desire to leave court) and all their men-at-arms ever near there would be no chance of finding the privacy needed to satisfy Iain's needs. Or her own, she mused with a sigh. She doubted they would be able to do anything about those particular desires until they reached Caraidland, and that was several days away.
On the third day of their journey, she and Alexander, with Meg's concurrence, removed Iain's stitches. His wound had healed nicely, Islaen decided as she helped him with his tunic, although MacLennon had succeeded in leaving yet another scar upon him. She then became aware of the fact that her brothers had gathered round.
"What do ye want?” she asked suspiciously.
"We mean to have us a wee talk with your husband,” Nathan replied.
One sharp glance at their faces told her it was not talking they had in mind. Her suspicions were strengthened by the way Iain's men were bristling. They sensed the threat facing Iain.
"Weel, ye arenae going to do any talking.” She sneered the last word. “Get away from here."
"Islaen,” Iain said quietly as he stood, “I think ye best stay out of this."
He was idly amused by the way she stood before her much larger brothers, with her hands upon her slim hips. She looked like a small hen ready to defend her chick. This time, however, it would indeed be best if she stayed out of it even though he knew it was going to make her furious.
Silently signaling his men that he would take care of the matter alone, Iain prepared to leave with Islaen's brothers. He knew they intended to do their talking with their fists and that he would undoubtedly be nursing many a bruise for the rest of the journey to Caraidland. However, he understood why they were intent on doing it. He knew he would do the same if he had a sister. There had also been a tension between him and Islaen's kin since the night he had gone off with Lady Mary. Iain knew this confrontation would put them back on a more companionable footing, something he was eager for. He did, however, feel a little slighted when he saw that Alexander was aligned with Islaen's brothers.
"Ye as weel, Alex?"
"Aye. Me as well."
"Now wait just a minute,” Islaen snapped as they started to move away, but when she reached out to restrain Iain her father caught her up in a hold that was gentle but very firm. “This is the greatest of foolishness, Fither."
"Weel, most women think that of a mon's business. No harm in ye lads having a look,” he said to the hovering men-at-arms who immediately hurried after the others. “Now, lass, will ye set here an I release ye?"
"Aye,” she answered with cross reluctance, “for I ken I will do no good chasing after them. They willnae hurt Iain badly, will they?"
"Nay, lass. Truth is, I will be muckle surprised if some of the lads dinnae come back a mite bashed themselves."
Iain fully intended to give as good as he got when Islaen's brothers halted and Nathan murmured, “This looks as good a spot as any to have our wee talk."
"She willnae be pleased by this,” Iain said calmly as he took off his tunic and handed it to one of his men.
Doing the same, Robert drawled, “Nay, I suspicion she will burn our ears a wee bit as she should have burned yours."
"Aye, but she is an understanding lass."
"We arenae and we did warn ye,” growled Nathan.
"Aye, ye did. So how is it to be then? All of you?"
"Nay, that wouldnae be quite fair,” murmured Robert.
"Weel, then, two at a go. Alexander makes it even."
"Wheesht, ye are a boaster, are ye not?” muttered Duncan.
Glancing at all the bared chests of his opponents and seeing that, despite the slender build of some, they were a strong collection, Iain thought he was too, but drawled, “T'will get the business done faster. I havenae supped yet, ye ken."
"Me and Alex will have at ye first,” growled Duncan as he advanced. “I mean to knock ye on your arse, MacLagan."
He did just that but Iain quickly recovered. His main objective was to down his opponents as quickly as possible in order to have enough strength to get through all of them without too many injuries. Duncan was good but his method was easily guessed and Iain soon sent him down. Alexander went down an instant later and, although he was fully able to get up and continue, simply began to laugh.
"I had forgotten how cursed quick ye are, Iain."
"Had enough then?"
"Aye. I just wanted a wee knock or two."
Malcolm and Leith were next. Iain saw that the MacRoths were indeed fighting men. They had clearly watched him closely, learning his manner of fighting. It was a lot harder to bring them down.
By the time he faced the twins, the last pair of opponents, Iain was surprised that he was still standing. He knew he had done himself proud, something aided by the fact that his opponents were considering a good knock down enough to end it, even if they were still conscious. If he had had to fight each one until they were totally incapacitated he felt sure he would never have gotten past the first four.
He knew he had been right about what the fight would accomplish when he heard Calum say, “Mayhaps we ought to let him catch his breath first."
"Dinnae be daft. If we do that he will knock us on our arses,” Donald said cheerfully, then charged Iain.
Iain sidestepped Donald's charge and booted the youth in the backside much to the amusement of his men. He was not quick enough to elude Calum's charge, however, and hit the ground hard. Donald was quick to join in and Iain was not really able to discern who was doing what to whom in the ensuing melee. He was barely conscious when the fighting ended, the twins collapsing beside him upon the ground. Wincing as he partly raised himself up on his elbows, Iain saw that neither was unconscious, that they had simply quit, deciding that they had had enough.
"Who won then?” he rasped and everyone laughed.
"Weel,” Robert said as he helped a groggy Leith to stand, “we best get back so that Islaen can glare and mutter."
"Mutter?” Iain mumbled as two of his men helped him to his feet.
"Aye, mutter.” Nathan shook his head. “She mutters when she is too angry to think of what she really wants to say or to get the words out clear and all."
When the men finally staggered back into camp, Islaen glared at them. Iain looked terrible but she had seen the results of too many fights and knew that he was not nearly as bad as he looked. She also noted fleetingly that he had indeed given as good as he had gotten. When she heard them jesting and talking about the battle as if it was something wonderful, she was sorely tempted to leave them all to wallow in their own blood and grime.
Muttering about the incomprehensible foolishness of men, Islaen gathered up what she needed to tend to Iain. Stalking over to where his men had helped him to lie down, she gave him one fierce glare and then set about tending his bruises and abrasions, muttering all the while about the silliness of grown men. She wondered crossly why he kept smiling.
Glancing around she decided her help was not really needed elsewhere. Since she had already eaten and Iain refused her grumbled offer of food, she decided she might as well turn in for the night. Still grumbling, she prepared for bed and then joined him beneath the blankets. When he laughed softly she turned to glare at him.
"Just what do ye find so amusing? Do ye enjoy the pain of being bashed about?"
"Nay, though it was a good fight. Nathan's right,” he said with a smile. “Ye do mutter. I will be fine come morning, little one."
"Humph. Ye will be as stiff as a wet cloth put out of a winter's frosty morn."
"Aye, most like but t'will pass. It was a thing that had to be done."
"So ye all tell me but I dinnae understand it."
"Nay, I didnae think ye would. Truth tell, I cannae really explain it. There was anger sitting atween me and your brothers, lass, an anger I earned, I ken that weel. We beat it out of us ‘tis all. Ye will see. T'will be there no longer."
In the morning as her brothers, Alexander and Iain mounted their horses with a great deal of groaning and gritting of teeth, Islaen watched them closely. It did not take her long to see that Iain was right. The tension that had existed between her husband and her brothers, one that had deeply troubled her, was gone. She was glad of it although she still did not really understand the whole business.
By the time everyone's bruises were starting to heal they had reached the point in their journey where her kin would leave them. Islaen knew it was foolish but she could not fully repress the fear their leaving instilled within her. She could not stop them for Colin had sent word that the English had raided. Her family was needed at home and could not continue on to Caraidland as had originally been planned. Since she loved Iain it puzzled her that her family's leaving should make her feel so all alone. She had to fight tears as she kissed each brother farewell.
"We will come to meet with Iain's family as soon as we can, lass,” Alaistair promised.
"I ken it, Fither.” She returned his kiss and then hugged him for a moment.
"Dinnae look so dowie, lass. Ye said this was what ye wanted, that he made ye happy."
"Aye, ‘tis. He does. I just wish I could have ye both, him and all of ye."
"Wheesht, lass, ye will always have us. There isnae a place upon God's green earth ye could go to be rid of us. T'will just take a wee bit longer to get to ye if ye need us."
Islaen kept repeating that as she watched them ride away. She also told herself that she was a grown woman now and beyond tears simply because her family was no longer right at hand. None of it helped. The tears still flowed. As soon as her family was out of sight she huddled close to her horse and stared at her feet in a vain attempt to hide her tears as she fought to compose herself. She did not want the men remaining, especially Iain, to think her a child.
Iain sighed, dismounted and went over to her. He had suspected that the parting would be hard for her. Eventually she would be able to find contentment in the knowledge that they were not very far away but, for now, he suspected that she felt lost. With a twinge of guilt, he admitted that some of that could well be because he was not really giving her anything to replace all that love her family had given her.
"Islaen,” he said gently as he put his arm around her.
"I am sorry, Iain. I am acting the wee bairn."
"Nay.” He pulled her into his arms. “I ken weel the pull of family. They arenae too far away, lass."
"I ken it.” She sniffed and gave him a watery smile. “And now that ye have beat each other bloody and are great friends mayhaps we will see them oft enough."
"Aye, I ken that we will. If they but come one at a time we can see your kin all the year round,” he teased. She laughed softly and a moment later he helped her to mount her horse.
"We will be at Caraidland ere the sun sets tomorrow,” Iain announced as they stopped for the night.
Sighing as she attended to her horse, Islaen tried not to get nervous. Iain and his men certainly looked happy about it. Even Alexander and his men looked pleased. That surely indicated that Caraidland was a good place, she told herself. She sighed again and wished she knew at least one person there besides Iain. The reminder that she knew the five men that rode with him cheered her only a little. This would be the first time she had ever met anyone without some of her family along for support.
"Lass, they are good people,” Alexander said quietly as he moved to her side.
"My face is so easy to read?"
"Nay, not truly. ‘Tis but clear that ye dinnae really share our delight o'er the nearness of our destination."
"Weel, it has ne'er been so important that I find approval,” she admitted softly and unconsciously touched her breasts freed from their bonds from their first night upon the road.
Alexander smiled and shook his head. “Lass, ye are bonnie, but I ken how hard it must be for one who has long thought otherwise to believe it. All his kin need to approve of ye is to ken that ye love their son. Ye do and they will."
"I have ne'er said so,” she mumbled, coloring deeply.
"Mayhaps ‘tis best that ye dinnae. Not yet."
"Aye. He would hie to the hills,” she grumbled.
He laughed softly and nodded. “Ye wouldnae see him for the dust."
"Alexander? Just why have ye come along?"
"Weel, lass, I ken that Iain will simply tell his kin that ye are his wife and ye will say little more than ‘Aye, I am.’ T'would be best if there is another there they can speak to and I am kenning more than I ought."
"Are ye sure ye ought to?"
He shrugged. “It cannae hurt."
"Nay, I suppose not."
"Dinnae ye have anything to do, Alex?” Iain demanded as he walked over to them and a grinning Alexander strolled away. “That mon smiles too much,” Iain grumbled, then looked crossly at Islaen. “Why are ye always talking with him?"
"Because he is my friend. Iain, I ken that he is a beautiful mon who can seduce a woman with but one soft word but we are only friends."
"He would be more."
"Mayhaps but only until he finds what he seeks."
"He thinks he has found it in you."
"What he sees is that I see the beauty, aye, but I see the rest too. That is what he wants, a lass who will see past his face and form. Once another lass does that he will ne'er e'en passingly think of me as more than a friend and a body can ne'er have enough good friends. He is your friend too, Iain,” she added quietly.
Iain nodded, understanding all that she said and inferred. If he tossed Islaen aside as he had almost done when he had gone with Mary, Alexander would be right there for her, but otherwise he would be no more than a friend. It was, nevertheless, a little unsettling to have such a mon ready and willing to take over his wife if the chance arose. Suddenly, he felt a greater understanding of Tavis's feelings. He supposed that Alexander would find it amusing to have two MacLagans scowling his way and hovering over their wives.
He thought of that again as Caraidland came into view the next day, and looked at Alexander who rode at his side. “Tavis will be so verra pleased to see you,” he drawled.
Alexander laughed. “Aye. I always get a warm greeting at Caraidland."
A wild cry broke the relative quiet of the countryside. Islaen stared wide-eyed at the rider charging towards them. Surely one man would never try to attack all of them, she thought, and then saw Iain grin. A moment later the youth came to an impressively neat halt before them and grinned back at Iain.
Despite the brightness of her own family's hair, Islaen found the youth's orange hair a wonder. She knew he could not be kin to the MacLagans for she had heard enough about them to know that they were dark. He looked at her and she nearly gasped. His eyes were beautiful, vaguely slanted, thickly lashed and a warm rich amber in color.
"Phelan, ye will be killed one day for someone will think ye some attacking madman,” Iain drawled."
"Sure'n are ye certain I am not?” Phelan grinned, then nodded towards Islaen. “And this fair maid is your wife?"
"Aye. Islaen MacRoth ere she became a MacLagan. Islaen, this wild mon is Sir Phelan O'Connor."
When he kissed her hand with all the grace of a skilled courtier, Islaen felt his long hair brush her hand and was bemused to find that it felt as soft and sun-kissed as the marigolds it resembled. She blushed when he looked at her. For all the sweet boyishness of his face, his eyes held the warm appreciation of a man who was no stranger to passion.
"M'lady,” he murmured in a soft, rich voice she could not help but compare to Alexander's.
"Oh, Islaen, will do."
He smiled. “And I am but Phelan. The sir but means that I was in the right place at the right time."
A glance at Iain told her the young man was being modest. That and the fact that he looked too young to carry the accolade of sir told her that he shrugged away an act that probably made for an exciting tale. She knew instinctively, however, that she would not get the whole story from him, that he really did believe it all a simple piece of luck. There was something about the young man that made her relax just a little concerning her impending meeting with Iain's family.
"Your father has a feast in the making. Caraidland has been a mad whirl since your squire arrived yester morn."
"And that is why ye are out riding o'er the hills, Phelan?"
"Aye, Iain. They kept trying to put me to work. T'was not easy escaping Storm's keen eye either.” Phelan grinned impishly at Alexander. “Mayhaps I should hie back to warn Tavis that this pretty mon rides along with ye. Sure ‘n he will be so pleased."
"Nay, let it be a surprise. ‘Tis why I told Murdo to say naught,” Iain drawled. “Mayhaps Alexander will tell Tavis why he blesses us with his charming company."
"Can a mon not travel to see his friends without his reasons being suspect?” Alexander asked soulfully.
Islaen realized with surprise that Alexander had yet to explain himself to Iain. Although Iain might not appreciate Alexander's reasons for joining them, an explanation would ease the suspicions Iain so clearly held. It was evident that Alexander found it amusing to let Iain puzzle over it. Islaen decided a little crossly that Alexander's idea of fun could get quite annoying at times.
"Nay, not when he sets a mon's wife to sighing,” Iain said dryly.
"Are ye sighing, m'lady?” Alexander asked Islaen.
She met his grin with a mildly disgusted look, then, closing her eyes, placed one hand upon her breast and the back of the other across her forehead. “Aye. Wheesht, I am near to swooning upon the ground at your feet."
"Ye will be upon the ground soon if ye dinnae keep the reins in your hand,” Iain muttered as the men laughed.
"Nay. He willnae move. I told him to be still.” Islaen hugged her stallion's neck. “He is a verra good lad, arenae ye boy?” she cooed.
"'Tis a stallion ye have there, m'lady, not a lap dog,” Iain said with mock disgust. “Weel, shall we cease sitting here and finish this journey?” Iain asked and there was a round of hearty agreement from the men.
Sighing inwardly, Islaen urged her mount onward, staying close to Iain. She could sense his eagerness to see his family. He did not seem at all aware of the fact that she was not quite so eager.
As they rode through the gates she tried to divert herself from her growing apprehension by studying Caraidland. Here was no simple tower house. It was large, strong and well run, if the orderliness about her was any indication. The MacLagans might be a small clan, but they looked strong and there was the air of wealth to the place. Islaen could easily understand the pride that colored Iain's voice every time he spoke of Caraidland.
Iain helped her dismount and felt her tension. He suddenly realized that she might not share his delight in coming to Caraidland. He was coming home but she was riding into a nest of strangers.
"Come, love, t'will not be so bad,” he said gently. “Ye are at least not a complete surprise. They do expect you."
She managed a weak smile for him as they moved towards the keep. There waited a huge group of people. Islaen found herself caught up in a dizzying round of introductions. While everyone seemed friendly she sensed a wariness in them. They were as unsure about her as she was about them. Islaen prayed that in the trial period to come she did not step too far wrong.