Chapter Nineteen
We traveled for hours without stopping, and I fell asleep in Iskair’s arms—something I never thought I could do. The sensation of resting against his broad chest was anything but sleep provoking, but despite my keyed-up state, my eyes closed.
“Lass.”
I heard a delightful whisper against my ear. Eyes closed, I turned toward his mouth. His lips caressed my cheek.
“We approach Knockbost Castle,” he said.
I blinked and opened my eyes wide. Indeed, I could see the top of the castle’s garret in the distance above a tree line. To our left lay the bay. John appeared to be leading us into the forest. We followed, and once there, the men dismounted to chat in Gaelic.
Iskair helped me slide down off the horse before joining the group. They spoke for a few moments in hushed voices.
He turned back to me. “Ye must stay here. I will no task ye to watch the horses, but they remain here wi ye. We are few and have need of Andrew.” He grinned and caressed my cheek with his hand.
I could have purred...had I not been so worried.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Andrew tying the horses up to trees.
“You want me to stay here alone?”
“Ye will be safer here than wi us. I have to have my wits about me, and I canna think straight when ye are near.” He flashed me another bright smile and touched my lips with his fingers. “But more importantly, I need to have ye safe. Stay here.”
I nodded dumbly, my lips still tingling.
Iskair joined the men and Andrew, who moved stealthily through the forest toward the castle ruins. I looked at the horses, casually snacking on whatever grass they could find, and tried to relax. If the horses weren’t spooked, then I wasn’t...shouldn’t be.
I found a tree a few feet away from the horses, and I settled down at the base of it. I crossed my arms, hugged myself and listened carefully for the sound of gunfire, shouts or screams. At the first sign of any, I was running toward the castle.
All I heard though was the leaves rustling overhead. A horse snorted. My stomach growled. It was eerily quiet, and I remembered the last time I’d hidden in a forest—Dugald had grabbed me.
I pressed my back against the wide tree trunk and scanned the forest. Nothing. I bit my lip, a sense of foreboding creeping over me.
When a hand slid across my face, I should have been ready for it, but I wasn’t. I clawed at the hand covering my eyes, my mouth, and struggled to rise.
“Shhhh, Debra!” a voice hissed. I stilled. Who knew my name? I pulled the hand away to see Dylan crouched at my side, looking not at me but at the horses.
“Whose horses are those?”
“Dylan!” I cried out.
The horses startled and sidestepped.
“Shhhh! Quiet! Where did you go? Whose horses are those?”
“The Morrisons! Dylan! Where have you been?”
I threw myself at him, awkwardly bowling him over. We fell together in a tangled mess.
“Where have you been?” he exclaimed.
“I dinna ken what to think about the pair of ye,” a voice growled nearby.
I scrambled to my feet, as did Dylan. Iskair approached, his face set in disapproving lines. He came to my side and pulled me to him, though not roughly.
Dylan’s eyes widened as he looked at us.
“Where did ye come from?” Iskair asked Dylan. “Dinna tell me ye abandoned the women and children?”
“I did no such thing,” Dylan said, straightening to his full height. He was as tall as Iskair, but nowhere near as sturdy. “What is going on here?” He nodded toward Iskair’s arm around my waist.
“Matters that no longer concern ye,” Iskair said. “Where are the women and bairns?”
“At Dun Eistean.”
“Dun Eistean?” both Iskair and I repeated in unison.
“But I thought you were taken by the Macleods,” I said.
“We were marched out of the castle. We thought you were dead!” Dylan said to Iskair.
“As ye see, I live. Continue!”
“But Angus Macleod got word somehow that you were headed to Ardmore Castle, and most of his forces broke away, heading for the castle. Rob, Kenny and Euan managed to overcome the men Macleod had left with us, and the entire group returned to Dun Eistean. Angus had rallied the men he left behind on Dun Eistean to Ardmore. Can I assume you have taken the castle back?”
“It was no mine to take, but aye, John Morrison has his castle.”
“Iskair, John is Dylan’s eighth or tenth or something great-grandfather. I don’t know if you knew that.”
Iskair swung his head in my direction, then toward Dylan. He hissed and shook his head.
“Nay, I was no aware ye were true kin to John. I apologize to ye.”
“And he’s related to you,” I added. “Through your mother.”
“Ye are correct,” Iskair said in a deep voice. He held out a hand to Dylan, who took it.
“Cousin,” Dylan said with a wary nod.
“Aye, cousin it is.”
The rest of the Morrison men filtered in through the woods. I caught sight of John staring at Dylan. Other than body type, the resemblance was startling.
John moved forward, Torq and Andrew following. The rest of the men crowded around us.
“Dylan,” John said in a deep voice. “Where are the women and bairns?”
“Safe, at Dun Eistean,” Dylan said, his eyes wide. He stuck out his hand as if to shake John’s, but the larger man pulled Dylan into his arms.
“Grandson,” he whispered.
My eyes watered as I watched Dylan stiffen and then wrap his arms around his many times great-grandfather. Torq’s lips moved in a rare smile, and Andrew studied the pair with wide eyes. The men shuffled, unsure of what was going on.
I felt Iskair looking down at me, and I met his eyes.
“I dinna ken what to think,” he said in a low voice.
“It’s touching. Ann is his many times great-grandmother.”
John set Dylan from him.
“I have so much to ask ye, but I ken we must hasten to Dun Eistean. Our ladies must be worried. Why did ye return to Knockbost Castle?”
“I was worried about Debra. She wasn’t taken prisoner, and I didn’t know what had happened to her. Since this is the last place where I saw her, I came back.”
Dylan shifted his eyes toward me, then to Iskair before looking away. My heart skipped a beat. Dylan had come for me. In all the chaos since our arrival and my almost instantaneous infatuation with Iskair, I had almost forgotten that Dylan and I had been close. I had even considered the possibility of marrying him, though I suspected that particular notion had been all in my head.
Iskair lowered his arm, releasing me from his physical, if not psychological, hold. I looked at him to see that he took a step away from me.
It seemed only a moment ago that he had challenged Dylan for me—laid claim to me—though I used that term only in the historical sense. I was far too modern of a girl to want to be owned by anyone.
Still, Iskair’s show of jealousy had touched me. Something in Dylan’s words now made Iskair withdraw from me. I didn’t know what to say or do.
“We must go,” Iskair said. “Ye can ride wi me or...” He looked toward Dylan.
“I will take my...cousin...up on my horse,” John said, clapping a hand on Dylan’s back.
Dylan looked at me again before following John to his horse.
“What is yer wish, Debra?”
“I want to go with you, Iskair!” I said in a low voice.
He led the way to the horse and helped me mount. When he climbed up behind me and took the reins, I no longer felt warm but as if I was in the arms of a polite stranger. When we left the tree line, I spoke without looking up.
“What has changed, Iskair?”
“Naethin has changed.”
“But I thought we exchanged...I mean, didn’t you tell me you loved me?”
“Aye.”
“So why do you feel so distant?”
“I am here behind ye. I could no be closer.”
“Don’t be disingenuous, Iskair! I think you know what I mean.”
“Ah! Ye are calling upon yer arsenal of twenty-first-century words, I see.”
Sarcasm dripped from his voice, something I had never heard from him. Iskair was the most authentic man I had ever met, and the cynicism in his tone worried me. What sort of mercurial man had I fallen in love with?
“Does that mean you don’t know what disingenuous means? It means—”
“Ye have no need to speak down to me, lass. I ken the meaning.”
It was as if we talked in circles.
“I don’t mean to talk down to you, Iskair. I admire you tremendously.”
Iskair didn’t respond. I felt his heart beating fast at my back, suggesting he was experiencing some sort of emotion.
“I love you, Iskair. I love you.”
Iskair didn’t respond right away, and pain ripped through my chest.
“I love ye too, lass,” he finally said. “That has no changed. But it seems clear that Dylan has a fondness for ye as well. When he said that he came to find ye, I kent then that he still cared for ye. It set me to thinking. I am no sure this is the life for ye. Angus is dead, that is true, but the struggles will continue. Another chieftain will take his place, and the Macleods will no be happy until the Morrisons are dead. It is in their blood.
“I canna bind ye here wi me when I believe ye will be happier in yer own time. I love ye too, but I think ye should return home. I suspect Dylan will want to go home as well.”
I wanted to shriek and cry “No! You don’t get to decide for us. I have a say in this!” But at that moment, the lump in my throat threatened to choke me. I put a hand to my neck, as if I could massage the pain away.
Iskair’s fears for my happiness were understandable, but surely it was my call to decide whether I wanted to stay. Ann and Cynthia stayed, and they appeared relatively happy...though I hadn’t seen either since they had been kidnapped.
It was possible that love did conquer all, that love would see me through the adjustment to life in the sixteenth century.
I wanted to say all that, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to beg. I didn’t want to beg Iskair to love me enough to let me stay. I remained silent, barely registering the fact that I actually had no way home anyway, not without the dagger.
I looked up ahead, at Dylan riding behind John, and I wondered how he felt. We’d had no opportunity to speak frankly since we had landed in the sixteenth century. I didn’t know if he was miserable or enthralled. I didn’t know if he wanted to stay or go.
One thing was certain. Iskair could not make me return without Dylan’s “permission,” because Dylan could not travel back to the twenty-first century without me. And if Iskair did ask me to leave, then I wasn’t coming back to the sixteenth century.
I straightened my back, doing my best to avoid intimate contact with Iskair’s chest, the beating of his heart. Despite the warmth of his arms encircling my body, I felt cold and alone.
On horseback, we made good time reaching the plateau across from Dun Eistean. The sun hung low in the sky, and the tide was in. Access to Dun Eistean was impossible, and we could do nothing but wait.
Iskair explained. “The tide is at its highest and will recede soon. We will wait here until it does. They canna keep the horses on the island. Some of the lads will take them to a nearby farm.”
I slid off the horse and walked to the edge of the cliff separating the island from the mainland. Most of the men stood there above the crashing waves, including John, Torq, Dylan and Andrew.
The women and children stood on the other side, cut off from the people they loved. But even from this distance, I could see the joy on Ann’s and Cynthia’s faces. Sara and Archibald jumped up and down. Everyone waved.
I had never known anything but the bridge that spanned the divide between Dun Eistean and the mainland. I knew the original inhabitants of the tidal stack must have lived their lives according to the tides, but the impasse had never seemed so heartrending as when I saw it in person.
I looked over my shoulder to see two men riding out, leading the horses. Iskair stood some distance away, still holding his horse’s reins. I broke out in a cold sweat and hurried up to him.
“What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly. “Why are you keeping your horse?”
The man I loved looked down at me with sad eyes.
“I am leaving. I dinna wish to stay here.”