“Excellent,” he replied. “I am relieved they honored me wishes.”
Isabel looked at him, her face betraying nothing. She was surprised to hear this from him, uncertain why he would have ordered specifically that no harm should come to her father and uncle.
“You did not wish for the English to die?” she asked nonchalantly.
“I dinnae wish for the death of any. But I did wish for me clan to be kept safe. That meant those who attacked were at risk. However, no, the man who came to kill me was doing so to revenge his son. He believes I was the cause of his son’s death,” Edan said.
“Ah yes, I remember. But you were now,” Isabel stated flatly.
“No. He was me friend. But it doesnae matter because they’ll nae believe me,” Edan said.
Isabel pondered this for a while, unsure how to respond. She knew he was likely saying that only because she was English. He probably worried for her to learn that he had killed an Englishman. That had to be the reason. She knew he had to be the cause of James’s death. That certainlty was all she had to cling to.
It was also the only thing stopping her from indulging her love.
Chapter 24
“Leave me alone!” Callum shouted at Cormag. “Ye didnae do as ye were told. Ye are a disgrace to yer clansmen!”
“Me? Disgrace? How dare ye! I be the finest of warriors, the most brutal!” Cormag defended.
“And ye are proud of that! How can ye love death so much?” Callum asked.
“I love what gives me what I deserve. Power, authority. Ye should ken. I ken ye are wanting the same,” Cormag spat.
“Ye dinnae have the foggiest idea what I want for me life,” Callum replied. The two stared at one another with hatred, bound by the truth that Cormag held over Callum’s head.
“I want me due diligence if I’m to keep quiet,” Cormag said.
Callum scoffed.
“A bribe? Truly?” he asked.
“Aye. If I’m to be stripped of me duties here, then I wish to leave. But I need a few things if ye’re to be rid of me,” he replied.
“Ye are truly the worst of scoundrels,” Callum said.
“Perhaps. But it doesnae change a thing,” Cormag replied.
Callum was quiet.
“Fine, give me a few days. I’ll get what ye need,” he promised.
“Much obliged,” Cormag replied with a grimace before skulking back to the shadows cast by the candles lining the walls.
“What are ye doing?” asked a frail female voice, startling Callum.
“Me lady, forgive me. I didnae hear ye,” he said.
“I imagine not, having a wee chat the likes of that,” Rose, Edan’s mother said. “What have ye to do with that brutish man?”
“Cormag? He is to be banished, but…he is trying to scare me. Ye ken I dinnae scare easily,” he said.
“And what does he have on ye that should bring ye fear?” she asked.
“Nothing, me lady. Nothing at all. Only his own silly theories,” Callum replied.
Rose gazed at him with her innocent eyes. She saw the lie but did not push. Like a ghost, she retreated into the darkness of the hallway, and a faint wind caused one of the flames lining the wall to go out.
Callum shuddered. He breathed a sigh of relief knowing that the woman was barely in her right mind and would likely think it all a dream anyway. Not that there was anyone she was likely to tell if she felt otherwise.
He retreated to his room and slept a heavy sleep as he had done the three days since the battle. His body remained weary and sleep was a scant comfort.
“Leave me!” shouted the Duke in his dining room. His drunken rages had increased since their failure in battle. The servants cleared the room, as did his friends. Only Ezra remained.
“Brother, you must settle yourself!” he urged.
“How? How am I to settle myself?” the Duke wept. “My son is dead, my daughter still missing. We failed in battle. Lost most of our men. I failed … I failed.”
Ezra sat quietly. It appeared to everyone in the Duke’s community that Ezra had become a sort of father figure to his older brother. Ezra’s thin frame so contrasted the Duke’s full one. His dark hair contrasted his brother’s light. And now, their moods contrasted greatly.
Ezra pushed down all the feelings that stirred within him, and he put on a display of how he cared for his brother as many were growing concerned with his outrages and anger.
“Brother, come, you ought to rest,” Ezra said, coaxing the Duke to his room. He ushered him with gentle hands guiding him and hoped for nothing more than his brother to rest. It had been far too great an emotional journey in the days before.
“Fine, fine. I shall go. But leave me once I’m there,” he said.
They stumbled through the hall until Ezra bid him goodnight. Then he turned and walked to his own rooms, shut the door, and sat in the darkness, listening to the cries of the families who had lost their sons and husbands in the battle.
There would be no peace until Isabel was returned. There would be no peace until Edan was dead.
Rulers come and go. And sometimes, rulers have to die.
Edan returned to the castle with Isabel and Caitriona at his side. There were shouts of triumph upon their arrival, but also the bitter disdain in their glances at Isabel. She was filth to them, even more so now that they had lost so many loved ones in the battle.
“Dinnae worry, me love. They will come to see who ye are, to know that ye are nae responsible for the deaths and sadness they are feeling. Soon they will see ye as one of them,” Edan promised. Despite his own concerns that she would in fact be hated forever, he could not allow her to feel that.
“I am glad to hear it,” she replied.
“Ye are like me sister now!” Caitriona said excitedly. “Of course, that might make things a wee bit gross between ye and me brother, so perhaps we should not say such a thing after all.”
“Agreed,” Isabel replied.
“But ye will be loved by them soon enough. For now, they see all English as a part of the deaths we have experienced. I will be sure to tell them ye had nae responsibility in it all,” Edan said.
Isabel thought about the grave responsibility she held, the fact that the whole battle had been caused by her wanderings and running away from home in her vendetta. It was absolutely her fault. Edan could never know that. But her father already did. The thought made her heart ache.
Edan noticed that she had grown pale. “What is it me lass?” Edan asked.
“Nothing,” she replied. “Nothing at all.”
“Are ye still sick?” he asked with concern.
“Perhaps, yes. I think that must be it,” she said. “Anyway, I will be better once we are indoors, and we have eaten.”
“Then we shall give ye even more than mere soup today, me lass. Since ye’ve been right ill-like,” Edan said with encouragement. He ensured that she was well looked after and wrapped in more wool tartans to keep her warm in the midst of her illness.
They sat in the great hall. It was almost strange to be back after all that had occurred. So many were dead. And even within Isabel, she knew that she had changed so much in the previous days that she had spent with Edan.
It will be over soon. The confusion, the struggle, it will all be over soon. All of this sacrifice was for revenge, Isabel thought.
“Here we are lass. Pheasant! Just what ye keep asking me for!” Edan declared. It was clear that he, too, had been greatly changed in the days of her sincere affections. Perhaps she had him wrapped too closely around her.
“Yes, thank you,” Isabel replied. She was quiet and it suddenly left Edan turning from thrill to anxiety. It seemed she was pulling away after having so recently come close to him. He knew he could not handle her drifting from him.
They feasted on pheasant, and Isabel felt the knife between her fingers. She knew she still had the blade tucked in her skirts but considered whether or not she might need a backup. As she gazed at t
he blade, Edan rested his hand on her back and looked at her.
“Are ye sure ye are alright?” he asked.
“Yes, yes, I am very sorry. Please forgive me. I am quite distracted from the events of this past week. I am well, though. I am looking forward to spending more time with you now that we have returned. Perhaps you can come to my room this evening?” she asked.
A flashing image of a blade sliding into Edan’s chest appeared behind her eyes. She felt queasy that it might come to pass.
Edan looked deeply into her eyes with his wide-eyed innocence of her plan.
“I would love nothing more than to be with ye on this night,” he replied. “Ye are the only dream I wish for day in and day out.”
“Indeed, you are my dream as well,” Isabel replied. The same image flashed again. Perhaps tonight would be a nightmare.
Chapter 25
“Shall we, lass?” Edan asked, leaning toward Isabel in his now-drunken state. He was looking toward the door, hinting that he desired to go to her rooms.
Isabel hesitated for a moment. “W-Wait for a time, will you, my Laird? Allow me to go and ready myself for your arrival,” she requested.
A look of dashing hopes passed over Edan’s face. “As ye wish, me bonnie gem! I will be with ye soon enough.”
“Thank you, my Laird,” Isabel replied. Feeling ill, she departed from the great hall, leaving Edan behind to drink further. It seemed to her that he had already had a significant amount. It meant that he would be exhausted enough once in her room and may even fall asleep in her bed.
His blue eyes gazed upon Isabel as she left the great hall, trailing her form with its elegant sway. He was enthralled by the way her hips moved at the point where they rounded into fullness before tapering down into slender legs beneath that dress.
“Where is she headed?” Caitriona asked him loudly, further along in her stupor than he.
“Her rooms,” Edan drawled. He could not get his mind to shift from the image of her pale and beautiful body on him when they were out in the rain.
“And why are ye not following behind?” Caitriona inquired, making a rude gesture in tandem with her comment.
“She wishes to prepare herself for me coming…” he said, delighting in the double entendre.
“What are ye on about?” Robert interjected loudly. The alcohol had been flowing more freely since the whole of the clan was caught in the battle of mourning their lost ones while celebrating their victory.
“Merely what’s in store for me brother tonight!” Caitriona said. The three laughed with merry smiles and no shame.
“Ye better tell the guard he has the night off! He isnae going to want to listen to the sounds ye make when ye be in the throes of passion,” Robert warned.
“But I bet he wouldnae mind listening to her!” Caitriona added.
“True!” Robert agreed.
“Her guard doesnae need the night off because she no longer has a guard,” Edan informed them between laughs.
“No guard?” Robert asked, suddenly serious.
“Aye, I told him we’ve no need for him now. She isnae going anywhere. If she wished to, she would have gone when we were off and away during the battle,” Edan justified.
“Brother…” Caitriona began with concern.
“What?” he asked.
“That may not have been the best plan,” Robert said, finishing Caitriona’s thought.
“What makes ye say that?” Edan asked.
“Ye have the blinders of love, brother. But she is still a prisoner. An English prisoner. And no matter how much ye enjoy getting busy with her body, it doesnae exactly mean safety for all of us. It is still a risk,” Caitriona warned.
“I ken exactly who she is. I have nae reason not to trust her,” Edan said with confidence.
Isabel’s feet dragged through the final hallway leading to her door. She did not want to pass through it, not after so much had gone between her and Edan. Tonight was a dread.
In her room, Isabel readied herself for Edan’s arrival. It was not by bathing or putting on scents that she became ready, but by placing the knife strategically beneath her pillow, so she might reach for it when needed.
I shall have to place it in his neck so that he might not scream, she thought.
The haunting thought returned, this time with the vision spouting blood from Edan’s neck instead of his chest. Again, Isabel felt nausea come at her in rolling waves until she rushed to the bathing room and vomited into a bucket.
She was shaking when she made her way to the bowl of rose water she used to rinse her mouth and freshen its scent. Then Isabel hobbled her way back into her bedroom where she sat quietly and waited.
It must be done. Revenge for my brother must be had. Tonight. I cannot allow myself to be swayed by weakness. I cannot look at his beauty, sense his kindness, or be charmed by his voice. No, tonight I must be strong, Isabel told herself again.
As she waited for Edan’s arrival, she went through her plan again. He would enter the room, and she would immediately begin kissing and undressing him. It seemed he enjoyed when she offered herself as being more forward than passively allowing it to happen
She would pull him to the bed and allow him to be on top of her. No, maybe she should be on top of him, that way she could hold him down.
But if she were on top of him, he would notice the hard object beneath the pillow. Yes, better if I am on my back.
With Edan above her, she would reach behind and clutch the mattress as if enjoying herself, but cautiously slide her hand beneath her head and pull out the knife.
It would have to be quick. She would need to use speed and precision to ensure that the blade was in his neck before he saw it. She could do it. Into the side of his neck and then drag it around as far as she could.
Isabel knew she was not strong enough to bring the blade around far, but perhaps enough to sever his ability to scream, although in this part of the castle and without a guard, perhaps no one would hear him even if he did. If she pulled out the knife, he would assuredly bleed out.
She had another option, she remembered. Edan had been deep in his alcohol-infused state when she left him. Perhaps when he arrived, she would allow him to have his way with her first.
The thought inflamed her momentarily, and she let her mind linger there, with his hands upon her. She could feel his lips one last time.
Perhaps then, after she allowed him to indulge, he would fall asleep. Then, drunk and heavily unconscious, she could end his life. It would be simpler.
Yes, it made more sense. She would wait until he had exhausted himself. Then she would find it easier to kill him, in his sleep.
Too many ways. Too many options. How am I meant to plot an execution when I’ve never fought in my life? This is much more difficult to plan than I had ever anticipated, she was nervous.
What I do know is that Edan must die.
But could she really do it?
“I’m only saying, ye should have talked to yer council first,” Robert said. They had continued to argue in the great hall about whether or not it had been wise to remove Isabel’s guard.
Edan felt that Caitriona and Robert had come against him. His stomach churned with tension and frustration, and he wondered if perhaps he had indeed been blinded by love. Or scotch whisky.
They cannae be serious. She’s…well she’s me English lass, he thought. The unbidden response came without warning. Yer English lass who still hasnae even told ye her name.
“Why does it matter? I trust her, and I ken she is a wonderful lass,” Edan declared, finishing the last swig of the amber liquid in his glass.
“So ye have no concerns at all?” Caitriona asked.
“None,” he said with confidence.
Does it make me weak to trust her like this? Edan wondered.
“Then I hope ye are right,” Robert said, passing another glass of whisky to Edan.
He drank it in one go, and another was soon on its way.
/> “Of course, I’m right! Ye doubt me?” Edan asked.
“I said no such thing, Edan, me Laird,” Robert replied.
“Then what is it?” he asked.
“It’s everything I just told ye. It isnae ye that worries me, it’s her. And ye should have consulted the council. I’ll stand by that no matter what. It wasnae right to remove her guard without telling us all first,” Robert said with a slight offense.
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