A frown touched Islaen's face as she found herself awake. She did not usually wake until Iain began to stir but he was still sleeping soundly. The hairs on the back of her neck felt as if they were standing on end and, without moving or opening her eyes very wide, she searched the shadowed room for the reason for her tense wakefulness.
Suddenly a movement by Iain's side of the bed caught her eye. Even as she admired the silent stealth of whoever approached them she grew taut with a readiness to act. No one came to a person's chambers in such a stealthy way unless they intended some ill. She recalled Iain speaking of an assassin who stalked him and her blood ran cold. When she caught the glint of a blade in the moonlight she gave Iain's inert body one mighty shove even as the blade lowered, then leapt up to light a candle knowing it would be impossible to battle the threat successfully in such darkness.
Iain gave a startled howl as he felt himself roughly thrust from the warm bed but was instantly alert. He knew who the softly cursing man was who tried to squirm free, kicking savagely at his restricting weight. In one clean move Iain rolled away and leapt to his feet. At that moment Islaen lit the candle and Iain was not surprised to find himself facing Duncan MacLennon. He simply wished he was not doing so naked and unarmed, the bed and MacLennon between him and his sword.
"Ye will die this time, MacLagan, and after ye, your wee whore of a wife."
"Your vengeance is with me, MacLennon. Islaen has naught to do with ye."
"She is yours. That is enough. Mayhaps I willnae kill ye too quickly. T'would be justice for ye to watch me take your woman as ye took mine. Aye, as ye lie dying ye can watch me force her to lie with me as ye forced Catalina."
"I ne'er forced her."
"Catalina would ne'er have lain with ye willingly,” MacLennon nearly screamed.
"She was willing to do her duty by her family."
"She would have come to me out of love. Ye stole that from me."
Islaen shivered as the man talked, unsettled by Duncan MacLennon's insanity, but she wasted little time watching the two men stalk each other. Iain was unarmed and that was her main concern. Yanking on her shift she dashed to the chest where his sword lay, gleaming and useless on the top. When she turned back to face the men, plotting a way to get the sword to Iain, she did find a moment to appreciate the sight of her husband. Taut and wary, ready to repel the attack that was sure to come, the grace of his trim well-muscled shape was clearly displayed. She forced her gaze to MacLennon, however, watching him closely as she edged towards Iain, ready to toss Iain his sword at the first opportune moment.
She saw that moment when MacLennon became aware of her and cried, “Iain, your sword,” even as she tossed it to him.
The weapon had barely left her hand when MacLennon swung towards her. She whirled out of the reach of his sword but was not quite quick enough. A soft cry of pain escaped her as the blade scored the soft flesh of her outer thigh on its downswing. She hurried to get further out of his way but realized there was no real need. His attention had already returned to Iain. Careful not to draw the man's attention again, she began to circle around the man in an attempt to get to the door and call for aid.
Even as Iain grasped his sword he had to put it to use, blocking MacLennon's savage swing. He could not concentrate completely on his foe, however, for he had heard Islaen's cry. Taking a moment to glance her way he saw her trying to get to the door and, although there was a lot of blood on her leg, the smoothness of her movements indicated that the wound was a slight one. Giving into the urge to see to her welfare cost him, however. He poorly dodged a deadly strike of MacLennon's and felt the man's blade take a piece out of his side. The wound was not incapacitating but Iain knew the slow loss of needed blood could soon make it so. He took the offensive hoping to even the score or cut the man down before his loss of blood made him weaker than MacLennon.
Seeing that Iain was keeping MacLennon too occupied to bother with her, Islaen raced for the door and, flinging it open, screamed, “Murder! Fither, Robert, the rest of ye, come quickly. A mon is trying to murder Iain."
A vile curse escaped MacLennon as he heard the swift response to her cries. He made a lunge at Iain's loins, Iain leapt back, all too aware of his vulnerability. In that instant, MacLennon bolted for the window. He was disappearing through it as Iain dashed after him and Islaen's kin tumbled into the room dressed only in their braes, their swords ready and barely in time to catch a brief glimpse of Duncan MacLennon.
"He went out the window. After him,” Islaen ordered a little hysterically, desperate to end the threat to Iain.
His sons immediately obeyed but Alaistair hesitated a moment, seeing the blood on her leg. “Ye are hurt, lass."
"'Tis not bad, Fither."
"Aye, but the lad is hurt too.” Alaistair decided he was needed more where he was and set his sword aside.
Islaen saw how Iain leaned against the window clutching his bleeding side and rushed to help him. She had been too intent upon the need to get help to see clearly how the fight had progressed. As her father helped her get Iain to the bed and insisted that she too lie down, Islaen wondered how much of Iain's collapse was due to sheer disappointment that MacLennon had escaped yet again. Then a nearly frantic Meg, roused by one of her brothers, arrived to help her father tend their wounds.
Despite her protests, Meg, her father and Iain insisted that she drink a potion. Islaen was already succumbing to the sleep it imposed upon her when the first of her brothers returned. She heard just enough to know that Iain's assassin was still free to strike again before she fell asleep.
"I thought the mon sought only ye,” Alaistair growled, noting with interest how his daughter clung to Iain even in sleep.
"So did I. He struck out at her when she tossed me my sword. Howbeit, he did speak on killing her too."
"Then the mon must be killed and swiftly,” Malcolm growled.
"Fine words,” Nathan said wearily as he entered, the last brother to return, “when we cannae find the mon."
"Faded into the morning mists like some wraith,” Donald muttered as he nudged Meg out of the way and sat down by Islaen's side, gently brushing a few strands of hair from her face. “I was sore eager to gain hold o’ him.” He looked at Iain and said coldly, “'Tis a wonder he found ye here at all. He might have found our Islaen alone and unprotected."
Iain bit back a curse as he sat up and reached for his braes. Islaen had not told him that her brothers also knew of his going to Mary, but it was clear that they did. He decided now was not the time to discuss that. Flushing slightly beneath the condemning gazes of Islaen's kin, he sought to change the subject.
"I wasnae much protection at first,” he admitted as he struggled to get dressed with Nathan's somewhat grudging help. “T'was Islaen's quick action that saved me from being murdered as I slept.” He told them all what had happened.
By the time he was dressed, they had decided that there was little that they could do. A more watchful guard would be kept and a search begun. It satisfied none of them but it was all that could be done. As the MacRoths started to return to their rooms, Iain went in search of Alexander. Later he would seek an audience with the king. He doubted that either man could do much, but now Islaen's life was also in danger and Iain wished to leave no possibility for her increased safety unexamined.
Islaen woke to find her brother Nathan sprawled at her side. “Where has Iain gone? He was hurt."
Nathan rose and poured her some wine. “'Tis surprising he was here at all. That mad mon could weel have found ye alone had your husband nay crawled back here from his whore's bed."
After taking a refreshing drink of wine, Islaen said, “He didnae bed her."
"Lass,” he sat down by her side, “we all saw him leave with the woman."
"Aye, but he didnae bed her. He told me."
"And ye believe him?"
"Aye. I willnae tell ye all he said for ‘tis not really your concern but t'was enough for me to ken that he spoke true."
"He meant to."
"Aye. He said as much. He stayed true to me, though. ‘Tis no small thing."
"Nay, I can see that,” Nathan agreed reluctantly.
She could see that he would be slower to forgive than she would, though, so she adroitly changed the subject. After finding out what would be done about MacLennon she sent Nathan after Meg. Firmly ignoring the woman's disapproval, Islaen got dressed and went in search of Iain. She wanted to be sure that he was not pushing himself beyond his strength.
To her dismay, she found Lady Mary. Seeing the beauty of the woman Islaen felt a pang of doubt, then shook it away. She had no reason at all to doubt Iain's words. She would not let her fears make her mistrust him. Whatever Lady Mary said, Islaen would choose to believe Iain. Islaen did wish, however, that the woman had not towed Lady Constance along to witness whatever the confrontation resulted in.
"Have ye lost your husband,” Lady Mary smiled coldly, “again?"
"'Tis a big place. I presume ye havenae seen him."
"Not since last night—in my chambers."
"Och, weel, I am after more than a quick peek at his backside as he leaves me."
"Ah, so he told you that we did naught and ye, like a dutiful wife, believed him."
"Aye, I believe him and, an I didnae have more important business to attend to, I would look close at why ye wish me to think otherwise. Adultery is a thing to hide as the shameful sin it is, not something to boast about."
"Iain said he didnae bed this woman?” Lady Constance demanded.
Even as Islaen wondered of what possible concern it could be to Lady Constance, Lady Mary laughed shortly, “She but says that to save face. And what husband would not lie? Iain but decided that t'was too early to tell her about me, ‘tis all."
"M'lady, an he took ye t'was but the briefest of tussles, nay more than a quick toss up of your skirts and a hasty rut. ‘Tis all he had time for atween the time I saw him walk away with ye to your chambers and when he returned to me. I think I will believe what Iain said, that he couldnae bed ye. Iain has his faults, as does any mon, but he doesnae lie.” Thoroughly disgusted, Islaen started to walk away.
"Nay, MacLagan doesnae lie,” Lady Constance said coldly. “Ye do, though, m'lady Mary. Ye didnae win the wager. I will have my coin back."
"Ye will believe that scrawny fool?” Lady Mary screeched.
Islean hurried away from the resultant squabble. She felt sickened by the women. It seemed distastefully cold to her that they would turn the destruction of a marriage into a matter for a wager. Islaen felt a real need to leave the court and all its leeches and sycophants. She wondered if she could convince Iain to speed up their departure.
Inwardly, she grimaced as she had to accept the fact that even though she might convince him to leave now, they would be back. Iain was his clan's representative at court, their ear to all the intrigues and possible benefits. She would just have to become hardened to the ways of the court as she did not intend to let him travel to such a pit of immorality without her. Islaen wondered how some of the men could look their wives in the eyes when they arrived home after the debauched way they had carried on.
Meg finally caught up with her and forced her to go and rest. Since she had just discovered that Iain was closeted with the king and her leg was throbbing some, she let Meg bully her into a rest. She was dismayed, however, when she not only fell asleep but did not wake until very late, the sun having clearly set a while ago.
Dressing quickly, she started towards the hall, sure that she would find Iain there. Concentrating upon getting there as quickly as possible she did not see Lord Fraser until she nearly bumped into him. Hastily taking several steps backward she noticed several things that filled her with dismay. There was no one about and Lord Fraser looked decidedly drunk.
"All alone? No hulking protectors about?” He began to advance upon her. “I have been waiting for just such a moment. I am nay as great a fool as young Ronald MacDubh. Attacking ye afore all in court was madness. They have banished him, ye ken."
"Nay, I gave no more thought to the rogue after Alexander took him away.” She tried to elude his advance but was finding it difficult, the corrider being too narrow for any good evasive movements. “Now, if ye will but move aside...."
"Alexander, is it?” he growled, ignoring her request. “Have ye been gifting that pretty fellow with your favors then?"
"Ye are insulting. Ye are also drunk. I think ye would be wise to let me pass and then seek your bed."
"An I go to my bed this night, lass, t'will be with ye beneath me."
He lunged for her and she tried to avoid him but the train on her gown, small though it was, made her falter. She stumbled up against the wall and he took quick advantage of that, using his bulky frame to pin her there. Islaen struggled against his hold but realized with a growing panic that, drunk though he was, the man could hold her easily.
"My kin and my husband will see ye dead for this,” she gasped as he wrestled her to the ground.
"Such petty lordlings willnae be allowed to draw my blood. I will have the fair Lady Mary on my side as weel. She does hate ye, lass. She seems to think,” he panted as he struggled to pin her thrashing form firmly beneath him, “that, an I possess ye, young Iain will turn to her.” He tore open the front of her gown and frowned when, instead of the bared breasts he had expected, he saw a cloth wrapping. “What is this?” he muttered as he drew his dagger.
Islaen struggled to free her hands but he had her wrists pinned beneath his knees so firmly that she feared they could easily break. Trying to buck him off only wearied her, robbing her of breath. When he began to cut away her binding, she cried out softly for several times his dagger pricked her tender skin. He stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment when he finally cut away her binding and the look in his eyes made her skin crawl with revulsion.
"God's beard, lass, why should ye try to hide such bounty?” he rasped as his hands greedily mauled her breasts.
He shifted his position, freeing her hands. In that brief moment that she was free, Islaen struck at his face but the weight upon her wrists had cut off the flow of blood to her hands. She was unable to curl her fingers into the dangerous claws she had intended, her swipe at his face barely breaking the skin. It was enough to earn her a stunning slap, however, even as he pinned her wrists over her head with one meaty hand.
The moment his mouth touched her breasts she felt bile sting the back of her throat. She fought the urge to vomit as hard as she did the urge to weep knowing that neither action would gain her anything. Cursing him fluently and occasionally crying out as his teeth scored her soft skin, she continued to try and break free of him. To her horror all she accomplished was to further arouse him by the rubbing of her body against his.
Feeling his hand tearing at her braies, Islaen briefly gave into helplessness. As he tore her skirts in his nearly frantic attempt to get them out of his way, she realized there was one last weapon she had. The corridor they were in was dark and little used but sound carried far. There could be someone nearby and the fear of being seen in such an ignominious position now paled next to what she felt about what Lord Fraser was about to do to her. Opening her mouth, Islaen managed to get out several hearty screams of her husband's name before a swearing Lord Fraser stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth, nearly choking her in his effort to silence her. She could only pray that someone was near enough to have heard her.
Iain hesitated, frowning as he decided which way to go. There was a little-used passageway just ahead that would save him a few minutes and, pressing his hand to his throbbing side, he decided he would use it. He glanced at Alexander who strolled companionably at his side carrying a well ladened tray of food.
"I can take that from here,” Iain said, not sure he wanted Alexander along, especially if Islaen was in their chambers.
"Nay, ye cannae. Your poor wee wife will get naught if hands as unsteady as yours are carry this."
"I didnae say it was for Islaen,” Iain muttered and wondered if he sounded as much like a sulky child as he thought he did.
"Nay, ye didnae. I had just hoped ye might be taking an interest in your wee wife at last, ‘tis all."
"Ye are far too concerned with my wife, Alexander MacDubh."
"'Tis hard for a mon not to be when he has held the poor weeping lass as her husband pants after a whore. Aye, and when he has been the one she has had to talk with because her husband is rolling his eyes at that whore and nay speaking a word to her."
"Shall we just forget Lady Mary?"
"Aye, if ye have."
"I have."
"Just when did ye start to forget her, an I may be so curious?"
"'Tis nay your concern but t'was moments after I entered her chambers.” Iain looked sternly at his friend. “So, there is no wife for ye to take to your bed for a wee bit of consoling ere her husband starts to look about for her again."
"An I took your wife to my bed, friend,” Alexander said softly, “t'would not be but to console her and ye could look about all ye liked after your wenching paled, I wouldnae be giving her back."
Before a stunned Iain could make any response to that a scream ended the tense silence between them. Even as Iain recognized his name in that desperate cry he recognized the voice that delivered it. He raced towards the sound only dimly aware of the sound of Alexander tossing the tray aside and following him.
The sight that met his eyes blinded him with a rage that burned away all aches and weariness. With a feral growl he lunged for the man sprawled on top of Islaen. He pulled Lord Fraser off of Islaen and threw the man against the wall, then leapt upon the man.
Islaen was stunned by her abrupt rescue. One moment she was braced for the horrifying completion of her rape and the next an enraged Iain was hurling a far heavier Lord Fraser through the air. She met Alexander's concerned gaze blankly as he crouched over her. With an odd detachment she realized she was beginning to shake.
Taking the gag from her mouth, Alexander took one startled look at her bruised breasts and then began to tidy her tattered clothing as well as he could. “Ye have been keeping secrets, lass."
"They are too big,” she said dazedly.
Helping her sit up, he gently kissed her on the forehead. “What a great fool ye are for such a wee lass. Now, set here for I feel I must stop your husband from killing Lord Fraser. The mon deserves it, but t'would cause a great scandal."
Not fully taking in what she saw, Islaen watched Alexander forcefully restrain Iain from delivering any more blows to a badly battered Lord Fraser. When Iain finally stopped, Lord Fraser slid to the floor and did not move again. Wrapping her arms about herself in a vain attempt to stop her shaking, Islaen stared up at her husband when he crouched before her.
"Is he dead?” she whispered.
"Nay, I think not. Did he rape ye?"
"Almost.” She felt the tears she had held back begin to flow. “I want a bath,” she said shakily.
When Iain reached for her Alexander stopped him. “Ye opened your wound when ye were tossing yon scum about. I will carry the lass.” He helped Iain stand, then gently picked Islaen up in his arms. “Dinnae scowl so, Iain. Ye would most like drop her. Ye will need what strength ye have left just to get yourself back to your chambers. What about him?"
Glancing at Lord Fraser Iain needed a moment to resist the urge to rouse the unconscious man so that he could hit him again. “Leave him. Someone will find him an he doesnae crawl back into his hole of his own accord."
As they hurried to Iain's chambers both men tried to get Islaen to stop crying. She had gained some semblance of control by the time Meg, fetched by Iain's squire, arrived. As Meg took her behind the screen to help her scrub herself clean and tend to her small wounds, Alexander tended to a distracted Iain.
"Did ye see what that animal did to her?” Iain growled. “I should kill him."
"And have all the world ask the reason? Do ye wish the lass to suffer that shame? Ye ken weel that none will believe he didnae possess her and many will think her to have been willing, that she cried rape to save herself from your wrath."
His wound cleaned and reclosed, Iain took a deep drink of ale to still the throbbing. He recognized the truth of Alexander's words but cursed the unfairness of it. The silence that would be necessary to save Islaen from the blackening of her name especially galled him when Meg tucked her up in bed at his side and he saw the bruises Fraser had inflicted. Somehow he would make the man pay even if he had to wait years to do it.
Islaen said little as Alexander and Meg said their good-nights. She lay stiff and silent at Iain's side even after they were alone. The bath had helped calm her but she still felt defiled. Although she knew she was not at fault, had done nothing to invite the attack, she could not help but fear that Iain would now be repulsed by her, see her body as soiled by Fraser's mauling. From what she had dared to view of her sore body, there did not seem to be any part of her that Iain could view without being reminded of Fraser's brutal attack.
Iain gently pulled her into his arms, felt her tension and felt a renewed anger at Lord Fraser. “Dinnae come to fear me too, lass."
"I dinnae fear ye, Iain. I dinnae ken how ye can bear to touch me."
"Wheesht, lass, it wasnae your fault. If we werenae so battered that t'would cause us more pain than pleasure I would love ye thoroughly right now to let ye see clearly how weel I can bear to touch ye, aye, want to touch ye still."
After lying in the comfort of his arms for a while, Islaen began to believe him and relaxed. Once her fear of his rejection was eased she felt weariness overtake her. The day had been long and too full of danger. Despite her aches and pains she cuddled up to Iain and knew she would soon be asleep.
"Better, lass?” he asked softly, caressing her hair.
"Aye, better, but, Iain?"
"Aye, lass?"
"Can we go home?” she whispered, not wishing to push but desperate now to leave court.
"Aye, lass. On the morrow an I can manage it, but by the next day for certain,” he swore and soon felt her relax in sleep.