It was one of the hardest things she had ever done but Islaen did not ask Iain about Mary. She decided the best way to handle the matter was to trust Iain and, in truth, she did.
Mary, however, she did not trust one little bit. The woman would push until Iain fell. She was already doing it. Islaen wished she knew how far the woman intended to go. Depending on how ruthless one was, a wife was not an insurmountable obstacle. Islaen had the feeling that Lady Mary could be very ruthless indeed.
Taking a long drink of wine, Islaen fought to keep her temper just as she had for the three nights since Lady Mary had arrived. She sat next to her husband but could have been miles away for all the notice he took. Mary had managed to usurp Lady Constance's seat, and thus practically all of Iain's attention. He seemed quite willing to give it too, she thought crossly. She told herself firmly that attention was all he was giving the woman and she ought to be grateful for that instead of sulking.
"Och, Iain, we are sorely neglecting your wee wife."
Islaen wondered how big a scandal would be raised if she poured her wine over Mary's elegantly coiffed head and sweetly said, “Iain's wee wife is doing fine, thank ye."
Iain looked at his wife thinking her voice just a little too sweet and was surprised at how flat and hard her eyes were. He knew he was neglecting her, lavishing far too much attention upon Mary, yet he could not seem to help himself. Neither the growing withdrawl of Islaen nor the increasingly belligerent glances of her brothers was enough to stop him. Mary was from a happier time, a time before his life had soured. He knew he could never really go back, yet he could not resist the urge to try to recapture a part of it.
"Aye, ye have Alexander, dinnae ye,” Lady Mary purred, then drew Iain into a discussion of a mutual acquaintance.
Frowning slightly, Islaen looked at Alexander and saw that he held the same suspicions she did about why Mary had said what she had. “Do ye really think that she would try that game?"
"Aye, the conniving slut."
"Is she?"
"She is and she was. Aye and most like ever will be a slut. Iain ne'er saw it."
"And ye ne'er told him."
"Nay, I had already been through that with Tavis. Odd, her name was Mary too."
"Near half the woman in the country are named Mary."
"Och, weel, to be direct, and pardon an I offend, Mary did keep her maidenhead intact but t'was all that was untouched. To Iain, all was virgin. He didnae see it and she didnae let him. She kenned more tricks than the finest courtesan,” he muttered and took a deep drink of wine.
Although she blushed over his direct talk Islaen was also curious. She also felt sure that Alexander was a little less than sober and that that roughened his tongue. There was the slightest flush to his lovely skin and a shine to his beautiful eyes.
"Did Tavis hate ye then?"
"Nay, but until he found Storm our relationship suffered. It took a lot of healing and the lass wasnae really worth it. O’ course, he still bridles like a dog protecting its bitch whene'er I talk to Storm."
"Tried to steal her once, did ye?"
"Aye, I did, but before she was his wife. I seem fated to lust after MacLagan women."
The implication of his words and the way he looked at her made Islaen blush. That such a man would want her was quite flattering. Then she had to smile. He looked remarkably like a sulky little boy.
"There is a lass out there for ye, Alexander MacDubh."
"Weel, she is hiding herself verra weel. I mark two and thirty years next week."
"Wheesht, so verra old ye are. Bent with age."
"Ye are a wretched wee lass."
"I ken it. Ye will find a lass. Of course, ye will most like not see it at first and ye being such a bonnie rogue, it willnae go too smoothly at first, I am thinking."
"A bonnie rogue, am I?"
"Aye and the poor lass will fash herself woefully o'er it, I am certain."
"Poor wee lass. Weel, I will have to console her a lot."
"Aye, a muckle lot."
"I dinnae suppose ye need any consoling."
"Nay, not the sort ye speak of."
"A shame. Will ye settle for a wee dance then?"
She laughed and nodded letting him tow her out to mingle with the dancers. Many looked at them with knowing expressions and Islaen sighed. Clearly they thought there was only one reason a woman would have anything to do with Alexander, or he with a woman. When she caught a glance from Iain, Islaen could tell that he wondered the same thing as the others. It annoyed her as well as hurt. She was offended by his mistrust, yet could not help but wonder why, if he thought she and Alexander were having a liaison, he did nothing to stop it.
For the first time since Mary's arrival, Iain found that he was easily distracted from her. The sight of Alexander and Islaen enjoying each other's company thoroughly troubled him. He trusted Islaen but knew how easily Alexander could seduce most any woman. Iain knew he had shamefully neglected Islaen for another woman and now worried that she would be vulnerable to Alexander's charm.
Inwardly he grimaced, a little ashamed at the way he wanted to violently stop her from having a lover while he was thinking of taking one himself. Mary's hints that she was willing to take him to her bed were subtle but clear. Iain was finding it a temptation too strong to resist. As the evening wore on, Mary's invitations grew stronger and he grew weaker.
Islaen heard the soft murmur of voices as she returned from visiting the garderobe. When she recognized the man's voice, she slipped into the shadows, her heart beating furiously as it anticipated the pain it might soon have to endure. The couple hesitated before her hiding place and Islaen pressed deeper into the shadowed niche, her hands clenched into painfully tight fists as she fought the urge to dart out and scream her anger and hurt at the adulterous pair.
Mary frowned when Iain hesitated. She had thought her success at hand. Already she had begun to lay her plans for ridding him of his wife so that he might be free to wed her. In the four years they had been apart he had gained more of the riches and power she craved. Even better was his closeness to the king which promised even more money and power.
"Why do ye hold back, my love?"
"Mary, I am a wedded mon."
"Had I only come to court sooner I could have stopped that folly,” she breathed as she twined her arms around his neck and then kissed him with all the seductive skill she possessed, a skill she had begun to hone shortly after her first flux. “We were torn from each other's arms,” she said huskily, pleased with his apparent bemusement, as she subtly urged him towards her chambers, “and forced to take others as our mates. Come, my love, let us not shy again from taking what is our right due to the love we share."
Iain let her lead him along. He was bemused after her kiss, unable to think clearly, because it had not gone as he had expected it to. His passion had not flared to life despite the somewhat unsettling skill Mary had displayed. It had stirred slightly in response to sweet memory but nothing more. He found himself thinking of how easily Islaen could set him aflame and began to wonder if anything he could share with Mary was worth risking what he had with Islaen.
The pain that had begun to sear through Islaen's insides when she had watched the pair kiss seemed to double when they continued on, Iain saying nothing else in protest. Giving a convulsive sob, she covered her face with her hands and began to weep. Just as she began to sag against the wall two strong arms encircled her. Islaen spared one startled glance to affirm the identity of who held her before collapsing against Alexander's broad chest and giving herself over completely to her misery.
"What are ye doing here?” she rasped when she finally calmed down.
"I kenned ye were down this hall and wished to stop ye from seeing just what ye have seen."
"Here, what are ye doing with our sister?” Malcolm's easily recognizable bellow echoed through the hall an instant before Alexander was forcefully yanked away from Islaen.
"He wasnae doing anything wrong,” Islaen hastened to say as she saw how belligerently her brothers were eyeing Alexander.
"I but tried to console the lass."
"Aye, and I ken how ye do that, Alexander MacDubh. Ye would console her right into your bed,” Malcolm growled.
"Islaen would never use me that way, sir.” Alexander then winked at her. “Howbeit, I am at her disposal if she wishes..."
"That be enough out of ye,” Robert said shortly, then placed an arm around Islaen's shoulders in a gesture of consolation. “Ah, ye have been weeping. So ye saw the black scoundrel, did ye. Weel, dinnae fash yourself, sweeting. We go now to make him pay."
"That was the other reason for my being here, lass,” Alexander said quietly. “I had a wish to stop a killing."
"Nay, ye wouldnae,” she gasped, pushing away from Robert and looking at all her brothers, seeing the truth of their intentions in their taut, hard faces. “Ye cannae do it."
"Lass, he has shamed ye. Aye, and hurt ye."
"'Tis not your concern, Donald."
"Ye be our sister and we willnae let him treat ye so,” Nathan hissed.
"I dinnae care."
"Of course ye do. ‘Tis clear to read upon your face."
"Of course I care but nay enough to want him dead. Aye, there was a moment there when I did and a wee part of me is telling me I should urge ye to go after him, impale him and his whore to their adulterous bed. I cannae let ye do it, though. Ye would cut me far more than he e'er could. T'would not only be him that would bleed ere your swords touched him."
Seeing that her words had drastically dimmed her brothers’ ferocity, Alexander gently urged, “Go to your chambers, lass."
After a close look at her brothers’ faces, Islaen did as Alexander suggested. She felt a need to hide away for at least a while. Islaen just wished she could go somewhere besides the chambers she shared with Iain.
As soon as Islaen had left, Alexander looked at her brothers. They were an impressive array of tall, strong and handsome young men, even more impressive when one recalled that there were four more like them at home. Iain would be well matched in a fight with any one of them. Alexander knew it would not only be Iain's blood that could flow, however, if they came to sword point. He was fond of Islaen, more fond than he knew he should be, and wanted to spare her the pain that would surely come if her brothers fought Iain.
"Ye cannae take up sword against the mon,” he said quietly.
"Ye defend him because the mon is your friend,” Malcolm growled.
"Aye, and because Islaen is my friend."
"I am nay sure I want ye sniffing about our sister,” Nathan said coldly.
Alexander shrugged. “I care little. She will continue to hold my friendship no matter how ye snarl about it. Islaen does me the honour of liking me. Few women have."
Duncan snorted in disgust. “They all like ye and far too much."
"Nay, they like my face and form but pay little heed to what lies beneath. That is not the question in debate now, howsomever. Islaen has made it clear exactly why ye cannae take up sword aginst Iain. She loves the fool. She also loves all of ye. No matter how the battle fared the one whose hurt ye are so eager to avenge would be hurt e'en more. There is no sense to that."
"He is right for all I hate to admit it,” Robert said quietly.
"So we let the dog pay naught for his crime against our only sister?” hissed Nathan.
"Weel, I didnae say that,” Alexander drawled. “A good beating might put some sense into his head. Aye, and I might just join ye."
"Are ye sure ye are his friend?” Robert asked with a faint smile.
"Aye, but that doesnae mean I need approve of what he does. Nay, especially not when he turns his back on a good fine lass who loves him and trots after a whore. Mayhaps a good thrashing when the time is right will make him see that he reaches for dross and turns his back upon what is truly of value."
Iain tore his mouth from Mary's very eager one and stared at her. Her hands moved over him, undoing his laces with a speed and nimbleness that startled him. There was a greediness to her actions that almost repulsed him. It certainly did nothing to rouse his passion. He finally admitted that he did not want to be there. The freedom to enjoy her skill was not there. “I am no wencher,” he heard himself say to Islaen, yet here he was doing just that.
He pulled out of her hold and began to redo his loosened clothing.
He knew Mary could stir him, that he could have an enjoyable tussle with the woman if he could but forget Islaen. That was what he now knew he could not do. Islaen and the promises he had made to her stood between him and the woman who now stared at him with a mixture of astonishment and growing anger.
"What are you doing?” Mary squeaked as she watched Iain straighten his clothes.
"Leaving. I ne'er should have come here. I am a wedded mon."
"Ye would desert me for that child ye were forced to wed?"
"I made promises to her. I willnae break them. She has done naught to deserve that.” His eyes widened when she started to scream at him.
"Do ye ken what ye toss aside? I have refused better men than ye my favors. Can ye no see what we could have together? Combine our power and riches and we would be nearly kings! Can that udderless child give ye that? Ye are a fool, Iain."
For a moment Iain said nothing, simply looked at her. The eyes he had thought so lovely were hard. Suddenly he knew he was seeing the Mary that had always been there. The one he had held and spoken of love to four years ago had never existed. Mary was a woman using any means, including her body, to gain power and coin. Four years ago Lord Cameron had had more than he so she had married him. Now she looked to him to satisfy her greed.
"Nay, not for leaving. I was a fool to think I could regain what had never been.” He started towards the door.
A little desperate, she grabbed him by the arm. “What of the love we shared? How can ye turn away from this chance to regain all we lost?"
"We lost nothing.” He somewhat roughly loosened her grip and opened the door. “I begin to see that old Cameron actually saved me from making a great mistake. I but pray that I havenae just committed a greater one."
Upon reaching her chambers, Islaen washed up, undressed and donned her night rail. Snuffing all the candles save the one on Iain's side of the bed, she crawled beneath the heavy covers. Bed had always been a nice place to huddle when she had felt sad or hurt but it did not work now. She was all too aware of how often and how passionately she had shared the same bed with Iain. There was a strong urge to go to the pair, to confront them, but she fought it. Pride helped. She had no wish to appear the fool before him and especially before Lady Mary.
The sound of the door opening abruptly stopped her tears. She could not believe Iain would come to her bed directly from Mary's, yet it was clear that he had returned even though she did not look at him. When he reached out and touched her after silently getting into bed, she felt herself pull away although she did not really move. She could not stomach the idea of his touching her with those hands that had so recently caressed Mary.
Iain felt her skin recoil beneath his touch and felt pained. He had known that she had discovered he had gone to Mary's chambers from the moment he had stepped into the room. Despite her obvious efforts to hide it she had been weeping. A little wryly he decided he could not have felt much worse had he actually bedded the woman. Feeling the way his usually welcoming Islaen retreated from his touch gave him the urge to get down upon his hands and knees and beg forgiveness. Here was the proof of what he had already suspected, that no matter how much he wanted to keep a distance between them, he could not abide actually hurting her.
"I couldnae do it,” he said softly and felt her tense.
"Ye didnae bed the woman?” Islaen whispered.
"Nay, I couldnae. I willnae lie to ye, lass. I went to Mary's chambers intending to bed the woman."
Turning onto her side, Islaen looked at him, wondering if he knew how very important his honesty was to her. “I ken it. I saw ye in the hall that leads to her chambers."
He grimanced, recalling the deep kiss Mary had given him. “Aye, I hesitated but not for long, eh? I wanted to go back to that time four years ago when she and I were in love."
"But ne'er lovers."
"Nay, ne'er lovers. I was that curious to ken what it would be like to bed her."
"I can understand that, Iain,” she said quietly and she could for, although she would never admit it and would never follow through, she had felt that curiosity about Alexander.
"I think ye may be more understanding than I could be."
"Weel, ‘tis easy enough for ye didnae bed her."
"Nay. I made promises to ye but I will admit that that wasnae the only reason I left her. T'was there but not the only one. I was seeking the past and I suddenly kenned that I wouldnae find it in her bed. Something told me that what I thought was the past, what I thought had been, was a lie. In truth the Mary I thought I loved ne'er really existed.”
"There was something I saw in her eyes, something I have seen in the eyes of women from the past, the women I used to still a mon's hunger, whores parading as fine ladies. When she kenned that I was turning away from her, she condemned herself with her own lips. She was ne'er a sweet lass forced to wed an old mon, but a grasping woman who chose the richest and most powerful of her suitors. Now widowed, she saw my rise in fortunes as reason enough to reach out for me. I dinnae think I care to ken how she meant to deal with ye. What little regret I had, and there was some, was ended when she showed me what she really was."
It hurt a little that he did not say he turned from Mary out of love for her but Islaen told herself not to be a fool. For now it was enough that he had turned aside a beautiful skilled woman, one he had long thought he had loved, in honor of the vows they had exchanged. She might not have all she wanted from him but he had shown that he would see his vows as important and binding. Islaen knew well how many men never did.
She then found herself feeling bad for him. He had suffered a deep disappointment, the hint of it in his voice. Once he had loved a woman named Mary only to discover, after he had suffered the pain of losing her, that she had never existed.
Silently she began to make love to him. She kissed him, improving a little upon the skill he had taught her. When he tried to hold her, to take control of the lovemaking, she neatly eluded him. As she caressed his strong throat with soft kisses, her hands slowly stroked his body. She was emboldened to continue by the way his body began to tighten with passion beneath her touch, the way he trembled slightly as her kisses moved over his broad chest.
Tentatively she flicked her tongue over his flat nipple. His hands tightened their grip in her hair just as hers so often did when he did the same to her. Encouraged by that sign of approval, she began to lathe and suckle until he was squirming gently beneath her. She noted with some fascination that his nipples grew taut just like hers.
"Did ye like that?” she whispered huskily, knowing he had and made bold by that knowledge.
"Do ye e'en need to ask?” he croaked as her tongue flickered over his abdomen
"Weel, ye could just be being gallant.” She darted her tongue into his navel and felt him buck gently.
He just groaned as her kisses moved to his thighs. Her warm breath and soft hair caressed his loins and he felt as if he was on fire. A little wildly he recalled how slowly he had been introducing her to the intricacies of lovemaking. He almost laughed. It was clear that she did not really need to be treated so delicately.
"Iain?” she called in a passion-thickened, singsong voice as she gently nipped his thigh, then soothed the sting of her lovebite with slow strokes of her tongue. “Do ye ken the first night I came to your chambers?"
"Aye,” he answered a little groggily, feeling himself tremble as her soft lips brushed daringly close to an area that ached for their touch. “Our wedding eve."
"Aye. I saw a couple in the hall. They made love."
"Shameless."
"Och, aye, verra shameless. The woman did something to the mon that I have oft wondered about when we lie together."
"What was that?"
"Weel, I am nay sure how to explain it. It may be a whore's trick."
It took him a moment to catch his breath when she kissed the patch of skin directly above the tip of his shaft. “Then show me."
"Ye will tell me if ‘tis a thing I shouldnae do."
"Oh, aye, I will tell ye."
When she ran her tongue down the heated length of him he bucked rather violently and she cried out. “Iain?"
"Nay, dinnae stop. God's teeth, dinnae stop,” he rasped, urging her mouth back to the spot it had abruptly abandoned.
He closed his eyes and reveled in the pleasure she gave him. When she took him into the moist warmth of her mouth he shuddered. Gritting his teeth, he fought to control a passion swiftly racing out of his control. He wanted to enjoy the pleasure of her intimate caress for as long as he could.
Islaen could sense that he was close to reaching his peak. She moved back up his body, straddling his hips. As she kissed him, enjoying the fierce edge of his passion, she slowly joined their bodies. When she sat up, she eased off her shift, excited by the way he watched her, then she tossed it aside. It surprised her a little that she could feel so hungry for him, so abandoned, when he had hardly reciprocated her caresses at all.
Iain felt the moist welcome of her body and shuddered. It was clear that her passions had been fully aroused by making love to him and the knowledge further frayed his tottering control. He watched her remove her simple shift with a seductiveness few practiced women achieved and, gripped her hips tightly, preventing her from moving. Iain was sure that if her body began to stroke his, his control would snap completely, bringing too swift an ending to their loveplay.
With a soft growl, he sat up, his knees coming up slightly to help support her as, placing an arm around her, he arched her back away from him. The way she squirmed against him as he hungrily assaulted her breasts was enough of a movement to bring him to the very edge of release. When his hand moved to her hip and gently urged her to a more rhythmic movement her release came quickly. He pressed his face against her breasts as she clung to him and let her pull him along with her as she tumbled into the brief-lived but exquisite oblivion of passion's apex. It was a long while before, still holding her close, he eased the intimacy of their embrace and laid back down.
"Does this mean that I am forgiven?"
Smiling sleepily as her body curled around his, Islaen drawled, “Weel, mayhaps. I will have to think on it a wee bit longer."
"Let me rest a while e'er ye really forgive, if that wasnae it. I am nay sure I could live through the true forgiving."
She joined in his soft laughter.