Don’t Tell Him Yet
Darroch sensed the castle folk were beginning to accept him, and acknowledged that Kyla’s presence had gone a long way to smoothing his path.
Dungavin was a fine fortress, but Dun Scaith tugged at him. It was difficult to explain. He hadn’t been content in his father’s castle for many a year, yet he felt the need to take his bride there. It was an important step in laying the feud to rest once and for all, but he selfishly wanted his clansmen to see for themselves that he hadn’t been jilted. Stewart MacKeegan knew but that was no guarantee he would spread the good news.
Even his father would have to be blind not to see Isabel truly loved him; he foresaw sparks flying when his bride met his sire. She’d already shared her opinion of his attitude towards Kyla. Dun Scaith could probably benefit from the upheaval Isabel’s arrival would cause. There’d be challenges—she was a MacRain after all—but he was confident his clanfolk would come to love her.
But she would refuse to leave Dungavin while Rory still battled for his life, though Fanny seemed more optimistic these days, and Isabel less tense.
He looked forward with great impatience to the time they spent together in their chamber after Kyla fell asleep every evening. Each was learning new ways to please the other, and he began to have a true appreciation for the value of a wife who wasn’t only passionate and giving, but also intelligent and wise. If he could look forward to lying naked with Isabel every night of his life, enjoying her body and her laughter and wit, he’d be a happy mon.
He had to trust Isabel was right that Kyla would one day speak to him.
*
Rory MacRain blinked open his eyes, looked around as if seeing his chamber for the first time, then rasped, “I’m thirsty, Daughter.”
Isabel’s joy constricted her throat and caused tears to well as she leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “Welcome back, Dadaidh,” she whispered. “We’ve missed ye.”
He yawned. “Something’s wrong with my arm, and I feel…”
She was thankful when his eyes closed again and he drifted off. She dreaded telling him he’d lost an arm, and explaining the reason for it would be a quagmire she might drown in. Boyd thought he should be the one to reveal Ghalla’s scheme, but she knew it was her responsibility.
It was difficult to decide what to tell him first. That she was married to a man she adored; that she had a stepdaughter who didn’t speak; that she hadn’t been jilted after all and the raid on the Trotternish had been unwarranted; that his wife had been poisoning him.
He was emerging from a long nightmare. It would take time for him to digest all that had happened. At least he’d recognized her, but Ghalla had bewitched him. Convincing him of her treachery would be nigh on impossible.
*
There came a point when there was no choice but to explain the amputation to Rory MacRain which, in the end, Fanny undertook. However, they made no mention of Ghalla’s part in aggravating his wound.
Isabel agreed with Darroch’s suggestion that it was time to impart good news in the hopes of nudging her father out of the doldrums into which he’d sunk after receiving the dire tidings. He continued to plead for his missing wife.
They decided to tell him of their marriage and introduce Kyla. He’d hopefully put her reluctance to speak down to a wee girl’s shyness.
Darroch entered the sick room with some trepidation, glad of Kyla’s firm grip on his hand. She’d been forewarned to be on her best behavior and appeared excited by the prospect of the excursion, even though Blue wasn’t going to accompany them.
Darroch was about to be formally introduced to his father-by-marriage for the first time. The future prospects of both clans would be brighter if Rory accepted him, but the chief was a man recovering from the loss of a limb whose health and wellbeing still hung in the balance. Ghalla had succeeded in driving a wedge between father and daughter, so there was no reason to assume he’d welcome Darroch with open arms.
He felt more optimistic when he saw Rory sitting up in bed, certainly looking far better than immediately following the amputation. However, Isabel had warned that her father was still suffering the aftereffects of being drugged for so long. She didn’t think he was ready to hear accusations against Ghalla.
She smiled reassuringly and held out her hand when he and his daughter approached the bed. He hoped the twirl of his thumb in the warm moisture of her palm would calm her nervousness.
“Dadaidh,” she began, “I waited until ye were feeling better before I told ye about something wonderful that happened.”
Darroch wasn’t sure whether to keep smiling when Rory looked up at him and snarled, then decided he preferred a more direct approach. He and Isabel had done nothing to be ashamed of. “Chief MacRain,” he said with a polite bow, “I’m Darroch MacKeegan.”
The snarl turned to a sneer, but before Rory could open his mouth to utter whatever curse he had in mind, Darroch rushed on. “’Tis my honor to inform ye Isabel is my wedded wife, and I swear to ye I’ll defend her with my life.”
MacRain’s mouth fell open. His eyes darted from Darroch to Isabel and back again. His face reddened. “The mon who insulted me by jilting my daughter?” he spluttered.
For a brief moment Darroch thought he was talking to his own selfish sire.
Isabel put a hand on her father’s shoulder. “He didna jilt me,” she assured him with only a slight catch in her voice. “He was waiting at the chapel in Sleat. He thought I had jilted him. ’Twas all a big misunderstanding.”
Rory seemed about to argue until Fanny folded her arms and declared, “’Tis true.”
Darroch reminded himself the utter confusion evident on the chief’s face truly had nothing to do with his marriage to Isabel. It was Ghalla who had caused it, and he sought for a means to break the uncomfortable silence as Rory stared into nothingness.
An insistent little pull on his sleeve gave him the answer.
“I’d like to introduce my daughter, Kyla,” he said, lifting her to sit on the edge of the mattress.
A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Rory’s mouth. “Bonnie lass,” he murmured.
Kyla stunned them all when she crawled into the chief’s lap and asked, “What’s the Faerie Flag?”