Thirty-Five
“Nay,” said Campbell without looking up. He swept the sharpening stone over his blade with an easy, fluid movement, the early morning sun glinting off the blade.
“I promise you I will not run away.” Isabelle flashed her prettiest smile. It was getting her nowhere, especially since Campbell refused to look at her. The Campbell sisters were planning an excursion to the small village across the loch from Innis Chonnel that morning, to visit with a group of traveling merchants. Though Isabelle had not yet figured a way to free Andrew, she wished to be among the party. Even Cait was planning to go, the arrival of merchants this far in the Highlands being reason for some excitement.
“Again,” said Campbell.
“Pardon?”
“You promise not to run away again.”
“Well, yes, except that I never promised not to run away before, so this would be the first time.”
“How many times have you run on me? Four? Five?”
“That you know of,” muttered Isabelle.
“What’s that?” Campbell finally glanced up at her.
Isabelle gave him a winning smile. One she hoped conveyed how trustworthy and delightful she could be.
“Nay,” Campbell repeated.
So much for the smile. “But we are only going to the village, in sight of the castle. I’ll be with your sisters the whole time. And I promise not to run away.”
“Nay.”
“I just want to see the beautiful sights of the far bank.” This was not true.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Cait says there are traveling silk merchants, and I want to convince your sisters to beggar you by buying more than they ought.”
Campbell smiled. “The truth at last.”
“So I can go?”
“Nay.”
“You are a cruel man, David Campbell.”
“Aye.” He did not appear at all displeased with the prospect.
“David, David!” Rabbie raced up to him.
Campbell’s body tensed and he stood, ready for battle. “What be the matter? Are ye well?”
“Fine, I’m fine. The sisters are forever asking me that. Dinna ye be all worrit too.”
Campbell relaxed. “What do ye want? Ye’re disturbing me.” But Isabelle could see the lad had his brother’s full attention.
“We’re going to the village and I’m going to show Isa—Lady Tynsdale the specimens I found.”
“She is no’ going anywhere,” said Campbell.
“Specimens?” asked Isabelle.
“Why can she no’ come wi’ us? ’Tis only to the village.”
“She canna be trusted outside the gates wi’out a guard,” said Campbell.
“I will guard her,” said Rabbie proudly. He stood tall and jutted out his chin.
“I dinna ken…”
“Ye said I was better. Ye said I was a man now,” said Rabbie accusingly.
Campbell glared at Rabbie, then Isabelle, with weary eyes. He made a sick, growling sound and Isabelle knew she had won. “Verra well. But keep a close eye on her. She’s a slippery eel and no mistake.”
“I can do it. Just wait until ye see the huge insects I’ve found.” Rabbie flashed Isabelle a smile and ran across the courtyard to the keep. Isabelle waited to shudder until he was out of sight.
“Ye’ve made yerself a friend for life if ye take an interest in those vermin o’ his.”
“Perhaps you are right. I should stay here.”
Campbell smiled. “Thank ye for yer kindness to Rabbie. He is fond o’ ye. Dinna make me regret this.”
Isabelle saw both the sincerity and the warning in his eyes. He took her hand and kissed it. Before she could think of something clever to say in response, he turned and disappeared around the side of the building.
Isabelle slowly followed his path and peered around the building. It opened onto the lists, where men trained to be warriors. Isabelle put a hand to the rough stones and kept herself mostly hidden behind the corner of the wall as she watched Campbell. He walked forward toward his men with an easy confidence and was greeted with good-natured enthusiasm.
Many of his brothers were there and they insulted him for his lateness. Isabelle was shocked for a moment, but Campbell insulted them in return and drew his sword. Three attacked him at once, which was rather unfair, but soon she could see that this was his younger brothers’ only chance. Campbell not only held his own but took the time to be instructional as they fought.
“Parry quick, Hamish. Nay, too slow!” Campbell struck down and knocked the sword from Hamish’s hands, he swore and lunged to retrieve it. Other Campbell men took up the fight, but Campbell only laughed. Isabelle smiled, watching him. He was enjoying himself, laughing and goading his men while they whacked at each other with giant, deadly swords. This was not a safe game, but he played it well.
“He is a verra braw man, my brother,” said a female voice behind Isabelle.
Isabelle nearly jumped out of her shoes. She turned to see Mairi regarding her carefully, her arms folded across her chest. Isabelle blushed down to her toes. She tried to think of some legitimate reason to be hovering around corners watching the men at the lists, but her mind went treacherously blank. Stupid brain. It always abandoned her when she needed it most.
“I was…” Isabelle hoped something clever would pop into her mouth if she just got started. Nothing came to mind.
“Ye were gawking at my brother like a starving man staring at a side o’ beef.”
Well, there was that. Denials were pointless, so Isabelle just closed her mouth and waited for Mairi to get to the point.
“Do ye have no respect for yer husband?”
“No,” answered Isabelle quickly. That, at least, was an easy question.
“No love for him.”
“None.” Another easy one.
“And what then do ye feel for my brother?”
Isabelle drew a sharp breath. This was not such an easy question.
“I will no’ mince words wi’ ye.” Mairi gave her a withering stare. “I see the way he looks at ye and ye at him. But take care to recall that his betrothed is here within these walls.”
Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “You support Lady Eileen?” Surely Mairi would not defend the woman who insulted everyone she met, and whom Mairi poisoned last night in revenge. Though Eileen had indeed recovered and was as irritable as ever this morn.
“I expect David to marry her, and shortly. He has called for a priest to do the last rites and to perform a wedding. If ye were unwed it may be different, but ye are married to our enemy. David must marry the Douglas harpy and ye must return to your husband, though it pleases few, it must be.” Mairi gave her a clear look of warning. “I will prevent anyone from interfering with this marriage. Do we have a clear understanding on this?”
Isabelle nodded. She did not wish to be the object of Mairi’s displeasure.
“Who is dying?” Isabelle called after Mairi, recalling that she mentioned something about last rites.
“The prisoner has been tried and found guilty. He will hang.” Mairi strode off toward the keep.
Isabelle sighed and shook her head. Cait would not take this well. She expected Isabelle to save Andrew… but how? Isabelle walked slowly back to the keep to meet with the other sisters for their excursion to see the traveling merchants.
She must devise a plan, and soon.
***
Isabelle accompanied the Campbell sisters to the village, but the joy of the escapade had been drained. Mairi’s words washed over her like a bucket of ice-cold loch water. The priest would be here soon no doubt, and that would mean the end of young Andrew McNab, and David’s marriage to the most venomous snake womanhood had ever boasted as its member. This was not going well at all.
Cait linked arm
s with her and even smiled with enjoyment. Isabelle had not the heart to tell her Andrew had been sentenced to death. She noted that Mairi also did not volunteer the information.
“I wish to find some cloth to make a wedding dress,” whispered Cait, her golden hair flowing in the soft breeze. “I hope David will release him soon. Then we need only to convince him to allow me to wed Andrew.”
There was so little hope for that sentiment, Isabelle did not know how to begin. “This looks a pleasant village,” she said instead.
The village was indeed pleasant, and the traders had set out wagons of wares. Whoever had given the report that they had silk had been correct. Isabelle brushed her hands over a soft silk the color of a light blue sky. It would look very nice trimmed in silver, particularly with Cait’s coloring. She was thinking again of Cait’s wedding to the doomed man. Isabelle sighed. Unhappy topic. How was she ever going to save Andrew?
Isabelle brushed her hands over a scarlet bundle of damask. She had a bundle not unlike this at home. She doubted she would ever see it again. Another sigh escaped her lips.
“I can see m’lady is no’ pleased wi’ the wares. But I have more, here in the wagon. Come, let me show ye our finer weaves.”
Isabelle absently let herself be taken to the back of the wagon. She was well within sight of the Campbell sisters.
“My lady,” whispered the man when they could no longer be heard. Isabelle started at the familiarity of his voice. She stared at his face, recognition hitting her with a physical force.
The captain of her guard grabbed her hand to keep her from falling.
“Nay, I can see ye are still no’ pleased. But wait; I have something here ye will like,” said her guard in a loud voice and drew her farther to the back of the wagon.
“My lady, are you well?” asked Captain Corbett in a cautious whisper.
“Yes, yes, but this is incredible!”
“What’s incredible, Isabelle?” asked Cait behind her.
“Why… why these prices. Are they not remarkable?” said Isabelle.
Cait frowned. “I woud’na say so.” Cait gave her a look that said she thought Isabelle was a poor negotiator and wandered off to shop some more.
“Why are you here?” Isabelle’s brain was whirling in a dizzy attempt to comprehend the meaning of the man before her.
“I have sworn to protect you. We obtained the ransom demand Laird Campbell sent to Tynsdale and came to rescue you.”
“Captain Corbett, you are truly remarkable, but how did you travel through Scotland?” Isabelle was incredulous.
“I am merely a humble merchant.”
“You posed as a merchant to pass through Scot territory? Oh, that was my damask I saw there! But how are you able to blend in? You sounded very much the Scot.”
“My mother was a Scot, but this is not important. We must free you. It is Campbell who is holding you for ransom?”
“Yes, he sent word to Lord Tynsdale demanding ransom for my release, though he has changed his mind about that now.”
“He will receive no ransom, for Lord Tynsdale is—”
“Isabelle, come look at this,” called Cait.
“We must get you out of here, m’lady,” Corbett said in a low voice.
“I cannot leave now,” Isabelle whispered back.
“My men can cause a distraction and we can run.”
“No, I gave my word. I cannot go now.” Isabelle thought fast, looking at the cart of wares. “Is there some reason you could come to the castle? You could sneak a person out in your cart when you leave.”
Her guard thought a moment. “I have ten men with me. I’m not sure why they would ask us to go into the castle.”
Isabelle remembered the troubadour who seemed to go anywhere he wished. “Is there any act you could do? Can you sing?”
“Nay,” said her guard, looking affronted, but then he thought for a moment. “Some of my men like to tumble, a few quite good at it.”
“Could you make it into some kind of acrobatic performance?”
“I suppose I—”
“Mairi!” called Isabelle. “This man says his brothers are acrobats. Do let’s invite them in to perform tonight.” Isabelle clasped her hands in excitement and smiled. It was no act, she was excited.
Mairi frowned as if weighing her options.
“And they juggle,” added Isabelle, sweetening the deal.
“Ooooh, Mairi, let’s invite them in. I love jugglers,” said Fiona.
Mairi shrugged and gave her consent to the plan.
“I don’t know how to juggle,” whispered her captain.
Isabelle smiled at him. “You have till supper to learn.”
Isabelle went to find Rabbie with a bounce in her step. He promised to show her his favorite insects by the bank of the loch and the hills above, and she would not miss it for anything. Isabelle smiled. She would save Andrew and her people. She had a plan.
Thirty-Six
Everything was going according to plan. Isabelle’s guard, along with their wagon of wares, was brought over the ferry to the castle island. She was thrilled to have them so close, but noted that they were grim and stone-faced. She acknowledged that walking into the castle gates of their enemy must not be their first choice of things to do with their evening. They did it because she asked it of them. A humbling thought, but she shook it off. It would all work out in the end. It must.
Isabelle found a quiet place to tell Cait of Andrew’s death sentence and Isabelle’s plan for rescuing him. As Isabelle expected, Cait’s tears flowed freely at the news, until Isabelle could redirect her thoughts on her escape plans. Cait was overjoyed, yet she found something missing in the scheme.
“I must be wed,” said Cait, the authority in her voice ringing like a female version of David Campbell.
“Wed?”
“To Andrew. We must be married before he leaves. We must.”
“Cait.” Isabelle shook her head. “How do you plan to do that?”
“I dinna ken, but it is the only hope I have of avoiding marriage with Gavin Patrick. If I am already wed, David canna force me.”
“I find it very likely that he would refuse to acknowledge—”
“Please, Isabelle. I need this. I need a reason, some rationale for refusing the man David chose for me. Without it, I have nothing.”
Isabelle opened her mouth to say it was impossible, then stopped, a flash of insight striking her. “I will try, Cait. That is all I can say.” Isabelle hustled away. She needed to find the minstrel.
Isabelle looked through the castle, but could not find him laughing in the great room with the men or strumming a romantic tune in the solar. She wandered through the courtyard and around the grounds and finally found him wrapped in a long cloak.
“Where do you go, sir?” she asked.
The minstrel smiled. “You have new entertainment, ’tis time for me to move on.”
Isabelle glanced around to make sure she was not overheard. They were standing inside the inner gate of the castle, but no one was near or taking particular notice.
“I need your help tonight,” she said in a low voice.
The minstrel gave her a suspicious half smile. “I think it is most definitely time for me to go.”
“I need you to perform a wedding,” Isabelle whispered.
The minstrel raised his eyebrows and said nothing.
“I know you can do it. I heard you give the last rites to Rabbie. Are you a priest or do you just know the words?”
The minstrel’s face turned ashen. He continued to stare at her in silence.
“’Tis for Lady Cait and Andrew McNab.”
“The man who is condemned to die?”
“Yes. Can you not do this little thing? It would mean so much to Cait and Andrew.”
“’Tis
not a little thing you ask of me. Even if I spoke the words, this marriage would not be sanctioned by the Church. It would not be recognized.”
“I understand, but it would mean a lot to them, and you said yourself that the man is condemned to die. Could you think of it as a last request?”
“If I do this,” the minstrel’s eyes blazed into hers, “I would ask for your discretion and that you not reveal what you have heard or seen of me.”
“Who have I to tell? You can rely on my discretion, I promise you.”
The minstrel looked less than pleased, but folded his arms across himself and asked, “What would you have me do?”
***
Campbell sat at the high table, the Douglas on one side of him, Lady Eileen on the other. He feared looking at either of them so he watched Isabelle take her place at the table. She was looking bonnie tonight, stunning actually. Not that he noticed. Eileen at his elbow exhaled sharply. She had noted his gaze. He could feel her anger seep from her pores. What a lovely couple they would make. He should say something to her, but frankly, the woman scared him.
He could not bring himself to marry her. Not just because she was a viper of the first order, but by aligning himself with Douglas he would be expected to support his scheme to turn over the monarchy to England, then try to steal it back by putting Douglas on the throne. As much as he loved the man sitting at his left, this sort of treason could not sit well with him, and would plunge the country deep into civil war.
And yet his alternative was to align with Stewart the steward, who asked him to stand against his monarch and leave king David with his English captors indefinitely, while Stewart became the default King of Scotland. It was not a happy choice.
Isabelle’s smile caught his attention. She was talking to one of his brothers, lucky bastard. What was going to happen to her? He noted Douglas failed to mention exactly how large a settlement he would gain from England when he agreed to the unholy alliance. Tynsdale’s estate. Isabelle’s home. Campbell could arrange for her to avoid going back to her husband for now, but unless her king decided to champion her, she would be sent back to her husband. Were her lands to be given to Douglas too? What would happen to her if Tynsdale lost everything and her plea for a divorce was denied?
Highlander's Heart Page 27