Reaching out, Islaen's hand met only cold linen. She sighed, then hurriedly moved to get her chamberpot as her stomach rolled and heaved. Weak but no longer nauseous, she hurried to clean up. With a cold compress held to her forehead she crawled back into bed for a moment's rest and decided it was probably for the best that Iain left her side so early in the morning. Men could be slow to guess that a woman was with child, but she suspected even the slowest of them would begin to suspect when the woman emptied her belly every morning.
Still, she mused, it was disheartening to find him gone. She was lost in thought on that problem when she suddenly realized someone had entered the room. Expecting Meg she was startled to find Storm at her side.
"Meg was feeling a little poorly so I came to see if ye needed anything. Are ye feeling poorly too?"
"Just a headache."
"Ah, they are a nuisance. Let me freshen that compress for you."
It was not until Storm had stepped behind the screen placed before the chamberpot and washing utensils that Islaen realized she had erred. She winced when she heard Storm gasp softly. When Storm reappeared, Islaen did not really need to look to know that the woman had found the sponges. They were left out for Iain's benefit. She was, however, discomforted by the anger upon Storm's face. For a moment Islaen cursed Iain. It was, after all, his fault that she found herself in such an uncomfortable situation. Islaen knew that she could no longer keep the truth from Storm and hoped that the woman would understand as well as help her keep her secrets.
"Islaen, I would ne'er have thought this of you. I find it hard to believe e'en now though I hold the proof. Is this why you can say you do not fear childbirth, because ye know you are safe from that? How does this help Iain?"
"Come and sit down, Storm. ‘Tis a long and complicated tale."
Hesitantly Storm did so after putting the sponge back and handing Islaen the compress. “I hope ‘tis one to ease my temper. We are friends and I wish us to stay so, yet I love Iain as my own brother and feel as if this is a betrayal of him."
"Iain was the one who wanted the sponges used. He insisted upon it."
"Oh, but, well, that did not mean ye had to."
"I had to or he would not share my bed.” Being as discreet as possible, Islaen told Storm of the wedding eve and the wedding night.
"He obviously feels damning your soul is better than risking your life upon a childbed,” Storm said crossly.
"So ye feel ‘tis a mortal sin too."
"Aye, I also feel ‘tis a sin against you. I will not believe you if ye tell me ye do not wish to bear his children."
"I would not mouth such a lie though I fear I am not clear of the sin of lying. He gave me no choice, Storm."
"I know and I do not think he realizes how cruel that is. He thinks only to protect you. Oh, this is a disaster. How can ye show Iain that not every woman need die upon a childbed, that ye can do it, if he forces you to use those things?"
"By not using them,” Islaen said quietly and smiled faintly when Storm's eyes slowly widened. “I used them once on our wedding night. That was enough to tell me that he doesnae really notice their presence, though it puzzles me that he doesnae."
"His passion runs too hot, Islaen. He notices little save the sating of it, I wager. Ah, poor Islaen, he forces you to deceive him and I can tell that that pains you. I should dearly hate to be caught in such a snare."
"Something else pains me and that is that I must ask ye to keep my deception a secret, to share my lie."
"Of course I will."
"Ye agree most readily."
"Aye. Ye do intend to tell him yourself eventually, do ye not?"
"Aye, when the bairn comes."
"It will."
"I ken it will.” Islaen grinned. “In about six months, mayhaps seven. ‘Tis hard to tell exactly."
"So quickly."
"Nay as quick as I should have liked. I wished for it to be blamed upon the first night we laid together."
"The sponges are not without fault. I use them and was using them when I found myself carrying Blythe."
"Ah, I had wondered. She is so close in age to Moran. Barely a year younger. I can see their use in such control. In truth, I begin to think my mother made use of them and Meg agrees. We are nearly all twa years apart in my family. I mean to do that."
"Good. I had thought to speak to ye about it. Bearing a child takes a great deal from a woman, before, during and after. She needs time to recover, to regain her full strength and ‘tis not only for her sake. The babe needs that too. I truly believe that resting between babes is why both I and all my children survive. So, Colin will have his grandchild,” Storm murmured with a smile.
"The mon has five already."
"Aye but he wishes all his sons to know that joy. He is in the winter of his life and wishes to see his sons happy. Colin also knows that Iain needs that, though he would deny himself."
"I must keep my condition secret for as long as possible."
"We-ell, with the first ‘tis oft a long while ere it shows, but why do ye wish it kept hidden?"
"Because of Iain's fears."
"Ah, of course. He will worry himself sick when he knows."
Islaen nodded. “Whate'er else I fash myself o'er, I ken that he has a strong need to keep me safe, worries o'er me. In his eyes my being with child is much akin to putting a knife to my throat. The less time he is troubled by that image, the better."
"Are ye afraid, Islaen? Many women are. I was a little."
"I am a little. An anything goes wrong..."
"I pray God it does not."
"So do I but an it does, I shall tell Iain of my deception. I willnae let him add to his guilt. He will be told that I willingly took the risk upon myself, disobeyed him. He cannae blame himself when ‘tis kenned that I deceived him."
"I will help ye in that, but I feel there will be no need. Ye and the child ye carry will be fine. Now, ‘tis my thought to visit the crofters today. Winter draws nigh and I must be sure that they need naught more to face it."
"Iain has left again?” Islaen asked even though she knew in her heart that he had.
"Aye. Phelan went with him. Come, I shall keep ye busy enough to help ease that loss."
Storm was true to her word and Islaen was torn between chagrin, thankfulness and amusement. Despite the concessions made for her condition, she crawled to bed exhausted every night.
One night as she wearily washed up she realized it had been a full week since she had seen Iain. She had never stopped missing him but she realized that hard work had made her days too full to linger on it much. One day melted into the next with work taking up every waking hour. The loneliness she might have felt in the night was deadened by exhaustion. Her body demanded sleep and nothing could forestall it getting what it needed. Sighing as she crawled into bed and almost immediately started to fall asleep, she wondered if hard work was what Iain used to stay away from her, exhausting his body so that the hunger he never hid from her was vanquished.
Iain sighed as he ate the bread and cheese a sleepy page had fetched for him. Phelan had sought bed, too weary to think of food. After a week of hard work the night ride to Caraidland had taxed the strength of both of them.
Shaking his head, he wondered how long he could continue and stay sane. He was back at Caraidland for one reason and one reason alone—Islaen. No matter how hard he worked he could not completely vanquish his need for her. Eventually, the need to see her, to speak to her, to hold her, grew too strong to ignore. Finally he rose from the table and headed for his chambers.
Islaen woke to passion. So afire with need was she that she barely had enough presence of mind to know that it was no dream that Iain had come home. When they lay sated in each other's arms she wondered sadly how long he would stay this time, then shook away that distressing thought.
"That ye, Iain?” she asked sleepily, grinning when she felt him jerk in her arms.
Seeing her grin, he nipped her shoulder in gentle reprimand. “Wretch. Who did ye think it was?"
"Weel, it being dark and your manner of waking me leaving little time for clear thought...” she shrugged.
"Islaen, ‘tis a verra dangerous sort of teasing ye indulge in,” he growled as he eased the intimacy of their embrace but stayed wrapped in her slim arms.
"Aye? And what can ye do about it?"
"'Tis a husband's right to beat his errant wife."
"Errant am I?” She watched him rise, then fetch a damp cloth to wash them with.
"Verra errant,” he murmured as he cleaned himself off then gently tended to her. “Pert too and impertinent."
"My, my, I am weighted down with faults,” she said softly welcoming him back into her arms.
"Aye but I strive to overlook them.” He nuzzled her breasts.
"How gallant ye are."
"I ken it."
"And vain."
"Vain am I? I should punish ye for such harsh words."
"And what form shall this punishment take?"
"An ye stay awake for a wee while, I will show ye."
She found it easy to stay awake as she reveled in the passion he gave so freely.
When she woke in the morning to find him still in her arms she was both delighted and dismayed. It would be nice to spend a little time with him but she feared he would discover her pregnancy before she was ready to reveal it to him. Her sickness in the morning had become erratic, a sign that it was leaving her, according to Storm. She could not be sure, however that she would be fine each and every morning. There was, she realized, some advantage to his absence.
"Iain,” she gasped, startled when the man she had thought asleep suddenly acquired some very busy hands, “I thought ye were sleeping."
"I am,” he growled against her neck. “I am dreaming."
"Ye have some verra lively dreams then."
"Lass,” he murmured as he moved to crouch over her, “ye dinnae ken the half of it."
The day was half over before they left their bed. Islaen quickly sought out Storm. She felt guilty for not being there to help the woman with all the work that needed doing.
"Not to worry, Islaen. Ye have helped immensely and I know you will again. Take time with Iain. ‘Tis important."
"I just feel guilty leaving ye to do it all alone."
"Do not. I have done it these past ten years and will do so again when ye move to Muircraig. Best I do not get too accustomed to your help. Does Iain stay long?"
"Nay, I think not. He gathers supplies now. He suddenly recalled that that was his excuse for coming here,” she drawled.
Storm laughed but then said carefully, “Islaen..."
"Nay, ye dinnae need to say it. I ken that seemed a wee bit bitter, but I didnae lie when I said it passes quickly. I have promised myself that in the hours he is with me he will ne'er find an excuse for his neglect in my behavior. I fear that means I swallow so many words that they but spill out on occasion. Please be patient with me."
"I understand completely. Ye are not the one who needs patience. The more I see of Iain's actions the more I am amazed at your tolerance. I should sorely have bruised Tavis by now for such hurtful nonsense. If ye feel a need to spit out the bile that builds up whilst ye must hold your tongue, I am willing to hear it. I think I would have choked on it by now."
"'Tis a near thing. If ye hear a crash in the night, dinnae fash yourself. ‘Tis but me giving into the urge to kick him out of bed."
Laughing softly, Storm shook her head. “'Tis not truly funny. Come, soon winter closes in and he must stay home. Travel is treacherous and no work can be done at Muircraig. How fared ye this morning?"
"I wasnae sick. Mayhaps I shall be lucky and not be all the while he is here. ‘Tis too soon for him to ken that I carry his child. I suddenly kenned this morn that, for all it pains me, there are advantages to his staying away so much."
"Aye. He is not there to see all the changes."
"And, because he believes I work to remain barren, my being with child isnae the first thought in his mind.” She sighed and shook her head. “I but hope that I willnae be adding to his burdens."
"Enough of that. Do not let his fears taint ye. There is fear in all women with child but ye must not let the ones that Iain carries draw your own out. They could do ye much harm and I think ye know it."
"Ye are right, of course. I mean to take the darkness from his heart, not take it into my own. I must work to remember that. As ye say winter comes. Soon there will be no hiding my condition from him and then I fear t'will be a verra great battle."
"Aye, his fears will be strong then. Ah, there, he looks for you. Go on now."
"Are ye certain, Storm?” Islaen asked as she watched her husband from the granary door.
"Aye, very certain."
Islaen spent most of the day with Iain and began to wonder why she bothered. He seemed to want her with him yet he was aloof. The way he worked so diligently preparing to leave her again was rather painful to watch. Finally she gave up and used the excuse of needing a bath before the evening meal to leave him. She felt she needed time away from his coolness, away from fruitlessly trying to break through it, if she was going to be able to welcome him into their bed later.
Iain watched her walk away and cursed himself. He held onto her tightly with one hand and pushed her away with the other. It was not only mad, it was cruel, but he could not seem to stop acting so contrarily.
"Such a dark face. My wee sister raise your ire?"
Managing a smile for Robert who leaned inside the stable doors, watching him, Iain asked, “Any luck today?"
"Nay, curse MacLennon's eyes. He is about."
"Always. He doesnae wish to miss any chance at me."
"So he watches closely, aye. I catch a glimpse of him or find his trail, but he e'er slips away. Are ye sure the mon isnae a spirit?"
"Nay, he lives though many seek to end that life. ‘Tis uncanny the way he can elude us all. Unnatural almost."
"His time will come. He will taunt death once too often. I fear I have more bad news for ye. ‘Tis about Fraser."
"Does the loudmouthed worm finally crawl our way?"
"I think so. His own family sent warning. They search for him, him and twelve of his men."
"They arenae sure he heads this way?"
"Nay, though they think ‘tis most likely. They want no feud with your family or mine, so, though he is kin, they sent warning. T'was hinted that they are done with the fool, feel no more need to protect him from his own folly."
"Yet they search for him."
"The bond of kinship is hard to sever. I think they dinnae wish it said that they did naught. Whate'er befalls the fool now, their hands are clean. Do ye tell Islaen what might ride this way?"
"I think not. ‘Tis yet only a possibility. She is well watched now because of MacLennon. There is no need to add to that."
"Aye and because of MacLennon, she is alert to danger,” Robert mused aloud. “Weel, I must wash the dust off. Do ye run again to Muircraig?"
Iain muttered an affirmative response, then watched Robert leave. Run was the right word he supposed but it was discomforting to think that others might see it as that.
Islaen woke to an empty bed and felt little surprise. Iain had kept her awake most of the night with his lovemaking. She wondered a little crossly how long he felt that sensual gluttony would last him. Considering how busy he had kept her during the night, she decided it would not surprise her at all if he stayed away a full fortnight. Sighing and scolding herself for her bitterness, she rose. Storm had said that there was still a lot of work to do and she hoped the woman was right.
For nearly three weeks, Islaen worked hard. She filled every minute of the day, needing the busyness more and more as each day passed and Iain did not return. It worked to keep her from lying awake at night but as the third week drew to a close, she found herself pausing more and more to stare off towards Muircraig as if she could will Iain to return.
"Are ye tired, Islaen?” Storm asked as she moved to where Islaen stood just outside the door of the smokehouse.
"Nay, not truly. I couldnae stomach working with the meat any longer. My stomach began to turn on me, I fear."
"Come, we will go and sit for a time. I could do with a rest from it all myself. Aye, and a drink. Here, what happens now?"
Both women watched as a small ragged boy eluded the men and raced towards them. When the men tried to give chase, Storm held up a hand to halt their pursuit. The boy was so small he could be little danger to them even if he was armed. Islaen listened as the boy frantically told his tale to Storm. She did not know the Gaelic well enough to understand what was happening however.
"I must go, Islaen. I am needed,” Storm said even as she hurried off to her chambers to collect what she would need.
"What is wrong?” Islaen asked as she followed close on Storm's heels. “I could not understand it all."
"Oh, aye, ‘tis a waning language, I am sorry to say. I wondered why ye did not look more upset."
"'Tis Iain?” Islaen felt her heart stop with fear as Storm hurriedly collected her medicinals.
"Nay, but mayhaps as bad. ‘Tis Robert. He has been hurt."
"Badly?"
"The boy was not clear. He does need physicking though."
"I will come with ye."
"Are ye sure ye should? The ride and all..."
"Willnae harm me. We can take Beltraine. He is strong and fast."
When they went to have the horse saddled one of the men insisted upon going with them. It was only then that Islaen recalled the threat of MacLennon. She wondered frantically if Robert had fallen victim to the man's madness.
"Do not look so fretful, Islaen,” Storm said as she mounted behind Islaen. “Robert will be fine."
"I pray so. If there is a favorite in our family, ‘tis he. Where do we head to, Storm?"
"To old Sorcha's croft. He was taken there. Recall? We went there but three days past to settle a squabble o'er the gleaning."
Islaen nodded and urged her mount forward. She was only barely aware of the well-armed man that rode by their side. Since her marriage such a guard had become so common as to be unnoticeable. A small voice in her mind reminded her that, if Robert's injury was due to MacLennon, they would have need of the man with them but she was too worried about Robert's well-being to think on that. If there was trouble in getting to Robert she would face it when it came and not fret on it beforehand.
When they slowed as they approached the croft they sought, Islaen frowned. The hairs on the back of her neck tickled a warning and she halted her mount. Leaning forward in the saddle, she stared hard at the place wondering what made her sense danger. She scolded herself for her foolishness, told herself Robert could be dying while she sat but feet away, yet she hesitated. Something was just not right.
"Why do ye wait, Islaen?"
Islaen's eyes widened as she saw one thing wrong with the scene before them. “Robert's horse isnae there, Storm."
Frowning, Storm demurred, “Mayhaps the beast ran off, became frightened and inexperienced hands could not hold him."
"Would we not have seen the beast then as he ran back to his stall?"
"Aye, mayhaps. Does all look well to you Robbie?"
The man frowned as he stared at the croft. “'Tis muckle still."
"Aye, mayhaps too still yet..."
"Robert could be there."
"Aye, Islaen, so I keep thinking."
"Yet here I sit thinking this all wrong somehow."
"Mayhaps we should return for more men?"
"That could take time and Robert might have very little. Where did the lad go?"
"I have not seen him since I spoke to him,” Storm replied slowly.
"'Tis most odd, is it not? Yet naught has happened as we sit here."
Just as she decided she might as well go to the croft, Robbie cried out. The sound that preceded his cry chilled Islaen's blood. As she and Storm turned to look at the man he slumped and began to fall from his saddle. She was not really surprised to see the shaft of an arrow protruding from his back. The sound she had heard had warned her. When she moved to go to his aid, Storm's grip on her tightened, halting her.
"We can do little for him. They will not allow it. Behind us, Islaen."
Looking over her shoulder, Islaen gasped. Six armed men rode towards them. She did not hesitate any longer but urged Beltraine into a gallop. The men were between them and Caraidland so she headed towards Muircraig although she found little hope within her that she and Storm could escape.
"They move to encircle us,” Storm yelled. “There were more than six."
Cursing viciously, Islaen tried several evasive maneuvers but the men were good. Although a good rider, she had little skill in playing and winning such a dangerous game. With little hope of success as the circle around them tightened, Islaen tried to break through. She cried out as the reins were torn from her hands, burning them. In his fright, Beltraine nearly flung her and Storm from his back. Gritting her teeth Islaen hung on knowing that, if she went, so too would Storm. By the time Beltraine settled down she was dazed and stared blindly at the men encircling them.
"Curse it,” muttered Storm. “A trap. But whose and why?"
"I believe he is about to tell us,” Islaen murmured as one of the men moved to face them. “'Tisnae MacLennon. Too fat and short."
"Ah, two lovely damsels in one net."
"Who are ye and what do ye want?” Islaen demanded, fighting to sound unafraid.
"When ye ken who I am, m'lady, ye will ken weel what I want."
Something about the man's voice chilled Islaen's blood. She sat tensely as he removed his helmet then she gasped. Despite the now crooked nose and two disfiguring scars there was little mistaking the man that now faced her.
"Fraser."
"Ah, so ye remember me, do ye, sweeting? Weel, no more to say?"
"Ye are mad, Fraser,” Storm snapped. “Ye harm either of us and ye will soon be so full of swords ye will look like a hedgehog."
"Ah, Tavis's Sassanach bitch."
"She is naught to you, Fraser. Let her go,” Islaen demanded. “Your quarrel is with me, not her."
"So she can raise the clan? I think not. Come along,” he said and signaled one of his men to take Beltraine's reins.
"Where are ye taking us?"
"To Hell, m'lady. Aye, to Hell.” Fraser laughed and Islaen shuddered, feeling Storm echo it. “And, with the bait I hold, t'will not be long ere your husband joins us there."