Warm arms engulfed her, and Isabelle melted into David’s embrace. He gently touched her hand where she had been rubbing the scar along her hairline. Isabelle rested her head on his shoulder and listened to the crickets’ faint lullaby until she felt surer of her voice.
“Simon ran into the room, he must have heard the commotion.”
“Who is Simon?” asked Campbell.
“He is the son of Tynsdale’s mistress, grown to manhood. Tynsdale has no other children, you understand. He wanted me to breed him a legitimate heir.”
Campbell nodded and continued to hold her.
“Simon pulled me from the room and took me back to my maid. He told me that Tynsdale had killed his two previous wives. Indeed, I had heard that each of them only lived a few months into the marriage. Simon helped me escape with my maid that night and warned me never to return or Tynsdale would kill me too.”
Campbell pulled her closer and stroked her hair, murmuring something in Gaelic. Isabelle closed her eyes, comforted by his strength and warmth. Her muscles relaxed and she breathed in his familiar scent.
“I have wondered what I did wrong,” said Isabelle. I must have done something wrong to enrage my husband.”
“I have seven sisters to me. As their brother and laird I have the right and the responsibility to discipline them. And trust me when I tell ye that they have enraged me beyond speech on more than one occasion. But, Isabelle—” Campbell gently tipped her face up to look him directly in the eye. “Only a rat-bastard coward would ever strike a woman.”
Isabelle closed her eyes and laid her head back down on his chest. She smiled faintly, experiencing an emotion that was new to her. She felt safe.
“Trust me, Isabelle, I will not give ye back to him. After I deal with our current guests, I will take you to the Bishop of Glasgow. He can get you back to England safely. Since yer husband has fallen out of favor, your king may well support your annulment.”
“And give me and Alnsworth to another man,” Isabelle finished.
“Aye, ’tis likely,” said Campbell softly. Neither spoke, the murmur of the crickets the only sound.
Campbell wrapped his arm around her waist and strode with her out of the chapel into the cool darkness of the night. It felt natural and right.
“I wish… I wish…” Isabelle took a breath. “If I did not have to protect my people from Tynsdale, I would be content to remain here with you.”
Campbell held her tighter. “I wish I could keep ye, but I must choose a wife and soon. It would be… distracting to have ye here and no’ fair to whichever bride I choose.”
“I suppose you must choose one of them.”
Campbell nodded, his jaw set.
“Do you yet know your mind?”
Campbell gave her a wry smile. “Aye, I ken what I want.”
“Which would you choose?”
David stopped by the castle wall and drew her into the shadows. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her slowly and without apology. “I want what I canna have… Isabelle.” His green eyes smoldered. There could be no mistaking his meaning.
They entered the stone keep and walked up the spiral staircase to the third floor where the sisters slept. At the doorway he hesitated, then pulled her back into the stairwell.
“Stay wi’ me tonight.” Campbell held both her hands, his eyes reflecting the dancing torchlight. Isabelle’s heart skipped a beat. “I winna force ye but… I must choose a bride from two unappealing options. I will do my duty, yet I would wish for one night to be wi’ the lady I want, the lady I choose. I would ask for one night wi’ ye.”
Isabelle caught her breath. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“Just one night,” he repeated. “Just one night I can look back on after I wed.”
Isabelle nodded. It was all she could manage. Her body hummed to his tune. She would follow him anywhere. They continued up the spiral staircase.
David stopped when he got to his door. “Ye dinna have to do this.” He leaned back against the doorpost. “Truly at this point ye could ask for anything and I’d give it to ye. Ye dinna need to sleep wi’ me.” Campbell looked up at the ceiling and folded his arms across his chest.
Isabelle reached up and twined her hands around his neck. “I would like nothing more than to spend my last hours at Innis Chonnel with you.”
David exhaled as if he had been holding his breath. “Good. Because I was going to have a hard time letting you go.” He slowly embraced her in his large arms, one hand moving up through her hair, the other cupping her backside. “Ye dinna ken how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
Isabelle pressed herself closer, her heart dancing a happy little beat. He was warm and solid. She was safe. She sighed in contentment and her shoulders relaxed. Campbell opened the door and led them inside. Her heart beat even faster at the sight of his large bed, covered in furs. She was not sure she was ready for this, but the only other option was to leave, and she would not, could not leave his side tonight.
The window was open, providing a cool breeze, which was a welcome relief to Isabelle’s burning skin. Campbell undressed. Slowly. She had seen him undress before, but this time his eyes never left hers, as if he was afraid if he moved too quickly or looked away, she might scamper off. Isabelle closed her eyes for a moment and forced herself to take a deep breath. Her body responded in an odd fashion, she was trembling and her heart pounded. She feared she would have an apoplectic fit and miss the promise of what was to come.
“Isabelle.”
She opened her eyes to David standing before her. His plaid was gone. His shirt was gone. She looked at his bare chest and then up at his face. Would it be rude to look down?
David looked at her carefully, then sighed and turned around. He strode back toward the bed, giving Isabelle a clear view of his backside.
“Forget it. I’ll take ye back to bed,” he said.
“What?” Isabelle was confused. “Why? Have I done something wrong?”
“Ye look scared. Ye look like ye dinna want to be here. I dinna want that.”
“No. I do want to be here. I do. ’Tis only…”
Campbell pulled on his shirt. “Only what.”
“I have never seen a man… undress.”
Campbell sat down on the bed with a thump. “Aye, I forgot. I always thought of ye as more experienced.”
Isabelle slowly walked across the room to where David was sitting. It was her turn to feel that any sudden movement would cause him to bolt. He looked at her as if she were pointing a loaded crossbow at him. Not exactly the most romantic of expressions. “I do not understand you, David. At one time you wished me to be your mistress.”
“That is before I knew ye were married. And aye, it makes a difference.”
“I’m not leaving you,” said Isabelle. He turned to face her and she looked into his eyes. “I will leave soon and never see you again. I’m not leaving you tonight.”
Isabelle’s voice wavered, but her determination was strong. This was her last chance. Assuming she was successful in her request for an annulment, she would either give Alnsworth to the Church and take up the veil, or her king would wed her off to some other knight who could benefit from her holdings. Either way, she would never again have a chance to be with this man who made her feel alive. She took his hand. This was her last chance to be with the man she loved.
Isabelle looked away and blinked back tears at the sudden recognition of what David meant to her and what she would be losing soon. They only had the remaining hours until dawn.
David reached his arm around her and pulled her closer onto his lap. She laid her head against his chest and he rested his chin on the top of her head, wrapping his other arm around her. They sat there for a moment, Isabelle enjoying his strong arms around her. But the image of David Campbell naked was emblazoned in her mind. Cuddling was nice, but she wanted more.
David sighed and disentangled himself from her, standing up and taking a step away. “I di
nna ken what to do. I shoud’na take ye to my bed. Ye are married. ’Tis wrong, and yet…” David began to pace. Isabelle watched the edge of his shirt as it flapped along, hoping for a glimpse of something interesting. “I want to do the right thing. And I want that right thing to be ye.”
Isabelle opened her mouth to say something and voiced the first thing that came to mind.
“What did you say to me when you left that night at St. Margaret’s?”
Campbell stopped pacing and stared at her. “I thought I would never see ye again.”
“I could not quite hear you and I would like to know.”
Campbell shook his head. “My feelings for ye… Some words should not be spoken.”
“This is our one chance. I understand we both must do our duty come the dawn, but for tonight…” Isabelle stood and reached out her arms. He closed the gap between them in a flash and wrapped her in his embrace. He began kissing her temple and down her cheek while he worked her gown open in the back. Isabelle wrapped her arms around his neck to keep her knees from buckling. She stood on the tips of her toes to return his kisses.
Isabelle heard a growling sound that was not like anything Campbell would say. She leaned back to see what was the matter and her gown fell to the floor. Campbell slid his hand up her spine to her neck and claimed her mouth with his. This time her knees did buckle and he held her tight to his body to keep her from hitting the floor along with the gown. When he finally gave her reprieve for a breath, her head was spinning. She made a decision to forgo the nun option.
Isabelle felt the heat rising from his body, even through her chemise and his linen shirt. Her skin was hot and she was flushed like she was feverish. Truly, she needed to get some air and cool down. She pressed herself closer. He made a strange, groaning sound again, which this time she interpreted as enjoyment, and tried to squeeze herself even closer.
He broke apart for a moment, stripped off his shirt and divested her of her chemise. He reached for her again, and she could feel everything: his soft chest hairs, the rippling of his abdominal muscles, the hard thing that was poking her accusingly in the stomach. Just as she was trying to figure it out, he stepped back and she got an educational eyeful.
David steered her to the bed and pulled back the furs. Isabelle climbed up into the large bed, and David slid in beside her. He rolled over on his side facing her and put his arm around her. Every place he touched, her skin burned.
“Isabelle, I’ve wanted ye so much,” David murmured and claimed her mouth once more. Isabelle melted into his kiss. She wrapped her arms around him and made some strange guttural sound of her own. David deepened the kiss and she learned new ways a tongue could be used. She forgot all else but the sensations he was building in her.
David reached down to cup her breast and she gasped at the sensation.
“Sorry,” he said, jerking his hand away like it had been bit.
“No, do not stop. I was startled. I did not know it would be like this.”
Campbell rolled back. “I shoud’na be doing this.”
“Yes, yes you should. You are doing very well. Please, do continue.” Isabelle felt a trembling need for him to return. He made no move so she rolled over onto him and ran her hand up his side to his chest as he had done to her.
A bit of encouragement was all he needed, and he rolled her back over and settled on top of her. She held on to him with arms and legs, wanting, needing him closer. He rubbed against her, building tension until she could take it no longer. Yet the one thing she wanted he was not giving her. Was something wrong? Confirming her fears, David began to curse.
David rolled back with a groan. “Sorry, love. It seems I canna…” David sighed again, he sounded almost ill. “I canna do it. I want to, but I… I canna take another man’s wife. It goes against everything I know to be right in this world.”
Don’t stop! Isabelle grabbed the sheets in frustration until the demanding throbbing slowly ebbed. She rolled toward him and put her head on his chest.
“Your morals do you credit,” she said, not really feeling the sentiment.
“My morals are a pain in the arse,” he muttered.
Take me now!
Isabelle pursed her lips together to keep from blurting it out. She would not beg this man for sex. She would not. She could not. But oh, David felt so nice and smelled so good. How could she resist him?
“I love you.” Isabelle froze. Had she truly said that? By the saints, why had she just said that? Isabelle cringed. She was so focused on not revealing one thing that another secret slipped past. Campbell was very still, not even breathing. Surely that was not a good response to her declaration. He brought his other arm around her and gently held her close.
“I wish ye were mine to love in return, my lady.” He reached up and slowly threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her head to his chest. “I wish ye were mine, my love.”
Isabelle felt her eyes sting and shut them tight to keep from dropping tears on his perfect chest.
She was his love.
Thirty-Nine
Isabelle woke before dawn alone in Campbell’s bed. She reached over to where he had slept. The sheets were cold. A chill seeped into her bones. She would never see him again.
Never.
She sat up abruptly and rubbed her eyes. She had no time for tears. She needed to get on that wagon before the rest of the castle awoke. Isabelle searched the dark room for her clothes and dressed herself as best she could in the gloom. She wrapped her cloak around herself and hoped it would conceal her less than perfect results.
Isabelle slipped out the door into the dark hallway, softly pulling the door closed.
“Are ye leaving David’s room?” hissed a voice.
Isabelle jumped a foot and spun to see who had caught her. It was Cait, holding a single candle and looking disheveled.
“Ah, Cait. I was… it was… nothing happened.” Her words rushed out in a damning display of defensiveness.
Cait grabbed her arm. “Ne’er mind that. They came for poor Andrew. They’ve taken him away! Where is David?”
“What? David is not here. Why is Andrew not on the wagon by now? Tell me what happened.”
“We had to wait till dark anyway and since we were just married, well… we…” Though the light was dim, Isabelle was sure Cait was blushing. “We are married at least, which is more than I can say for ye and David,” Cait added with defensiveness of her own.
“Nothing happened,” Isabelle repeated with more emotion than was required. “Wait, are ye saying the two o’ you… in the dungeon?” Cait opened her mouth for what would no doubt be a defensive tirade, but Isabelle held up her hand to stop her. “Nay, that does not matter now. Just tell me how they got Andrew.”
“Well, we were, that is, afterward it was so tiring we fell asleep. We dinna wake again until we heard steps on the stairs, and Andrew shoved me under his bench. And they took him—”
“You fell asleep?” Isabelle was incredulous.
“We were so exhausted—”
“You fell asleep?” Isabelle’s voice rose. “After all I did to arrange this escape for ye? All ye had to do was get in the damn wagon!” In all her adventures, Isabelle had finally managed to learn how to curse.
Tears pooled in Cait’s eyes. “I’m verra sorry. But do ye ken where they would take him?”
Isabelle looked into Cait’s worried eyes with a sense of dread. Andrew could only be taken for one reason. “I warrant they have taken him to commence with the hanging. David is probably doing it early to reduce the chance of you becoming upset. Where are sentences carried out?”
Cait gasped and put her hands over her mouth. Her eyes went wide. “The far shore, I suppose. I have ne’er been a party to it.”
“I should think not.”
“Isabelle, please help me. We must stop this.” Cait grabbed her hands, the tears that had been threatening spilling down her face.
“Cait, I have tried to help you, but your
situation is beyond what I can repair. I would help you if I could.”
“Just get me to the shore. I know ye can. We can take Rabbie’s boat.”
Isabelle firmly shook her head. “If I steal Rabbie’s boat again, your brother might decide to have a double hanging with me as the other victim.”
“How can ye no’ help me? What if it was someone ye loved? Ye dinna understand. Ye’ve ne’er truly loved someone. Ye dinna ken what it is to have yer heart break.” Cait wept openly.
A freezing jolt hit Isabelle at her core. She wrapped her arms around herself. She was so cold she feared she would never get warm again. “I understand,” said Isabelle softly.
“Nay, ye’ve ne’er been in love,” Cait sobbed accusingly.
Isabelle closed her eyes and balled her fists at her side. “Just because I do not express my feelings as freely as you, it does not mean I do not love.”
Cait blinked and stopped crying.
“I know what it is to love. What it is to lose someone forever. To never be able to see him again.” Isabelle squeezed her eyes shut. She would not cry. She would not.
“Ye love David,” said Cait. It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes.” Isabelle opened her eyes to find Cait looking at her with sympathy.
“I’ve seen how he looks at ye. He’s ne’er looked at anyone like that. I think he shares yer feeling.”
The tears Isabelle had been fighting chose that moment to win the battle. They ran unchecked down her face.
“Help me, Isabelle,” Cait whispered.
Isabelle nodded. “I will take ye to Rabbie’s boat.” She hoped Campbell liked her well enough not to kill her.
***
David Campbell was having one of the worst days of his life. He had to remove himself from the bed of the woman he loved, after his damnable conscience prevented him from showing her the full extent of his affection. To make his day worse, he now stood on the shores of Loch Awe with the hangman and a group of sober witnesses to put to death the lad his sister claimed to love. She was not likely to soon forgive him.
It was a cool morning, a feisty breeze whipping off the lake and cutting into his skin. He pulled his plaid around himself to protect from the biting wind. The sky was gray, and the sun had not yet emerged from behind the hills. Before him, Andrew McNab stood tall and shivering. He had not been given a cloak. He would not need one for long. Though Campbell wondered if it was only the cold making the man shake. It was an unpleasant thing to face one’s death.
The Highlander’s Heart Page 29