Three months?Onlythreemonths?Had she thought so little of Fergus as that?His pride was pricked, to be sure, which did not add to his composure.If Isobel had waited a year or two, he could have understood her choice, at least to some extent.She might have believed him dead, or unlikely to return.
Three months made him wonder whether she ever meant to wed him at all.
That shook him to his marrow.He loved Isobel and had been faithful to her, yet she had forgotten him so quickly as that.He felt sickened and empty.
Fergus could not look at Leila, for fear that she would guess the depth of his despair.
The boys were bringing in the many boxes of gifts he had brought for Isobel and the sight of them made him feel like a fool.All the time that he had been shopping for her, she had been married to Stewart.All that coin he had wasted, buying gifts that would never be granted to the recipient.He had been chaste.He had been true.He had kept his vow.Was that of no merit to the woman who had said she loved him and promised to wait for him?
And Stewart MacEwan.To be cast aside for such a man—a rough warrior of little scruple and much older than himself—was galling.
Could Isobel have been compelled to wed Stewart, despite his own father’s view?
The possibility made perfect sense.Her father’s keep of Dunnisbrae was moderately prosperous and Isobel was both her father’s only surviving child and a beauty.He could readily understand that Stewart might be attracted to both woman and holding—and that a man of Stewart’s nature might not have accepted the lady’s refusal as a reply.
He could believe that Isobel’s father might have forced her to marry, and that she, out of loyalty to her father, would not have made that fact evident.Her father might have been under duress of Stewart’s making.Aye, that made sense!
Fergus had to know for certain.He had to see Isobel and hear the truth from her own lips.He had to hear her say either that she had no love for him or that she had been forced to wed against her own will.
He had to visit Dunnisbrae as soon as possible.
Fergus spared a glance at the company watching him with such avidity and knew he could not leave immediately, though it might be his impulse.Isobel was married.He would not bring suspicion upon her or launch rumors.His horse deserved a rest, and he would not ride another when he rode to Dunnisbrae.He also would not insult his father by abandoning the meal being prepared to celebrate his return.
He would depart at the dawn.
Even though he itched to ride out immediately.
“Fergus, she did not see your merit and so she does not deserve your regard,” his father said with forced cheer.He patted the seat on his other side.“Come and let me tell you all of the news, for there is more than this to be shared.”
“Of course,” Fergus said, hearing the heat that still lingered in his words.He was stung by Isobel’s betrayal and the destruction of his own hopes, even if the marriage had not been her choice.He had a thought at that and spun to face his father.“Was it a handfast?”
“Nay, nay,” his father said.“The bishop himself came to witness the exchange of their vows.It was no small event.”
Fergus’ gaze collided with that of Leila, who watched him with evident concern.Was Isobel’s choice the reason he had felt a portent of doom?
Or was there more bad news to come?
He could not deny that his sense that something would go awry still lingered.
“Come, Fergus, and tell me how you came to be of aid to this damsel in distress,” Calum encouraged again.“I would hear it all, and if she tells me in her wondrous French, I might well miss a detail.”
“I would give the spices to Iain and Hamish first, Father,” Fergus said, bowing deeply.He needed a moment to collect his thoughts and to accept the disappointment.“And then, my steed must be tended.I must see Tempest settled before I take my leisure with you, if you will so allow it.”
“Of course, of course.Was I not the one who taught you to tend your responsibilities before taking your pleasure?”Calum chuckled as those in the hall returned to their duties and chatter.“Now, Lady Leila, tell me of your home in Outremer.Slowly, if you please.”
“I should be delighted to do as much.I lived in Jerusalem, although I was born in a small village outside of its walls,” Leila began.
“Al-Ramm,” Calum contributed and her eyes lit.
“You know something of Outremer!”
“Aye, I do, though it is many years since I was there.Continue, if you please, my lady.”
“My uncle is a blacksmith...”
Fergus strode from the hall to the bailey, feeling torn.He wanted to listen to Leila’s story as much as he wanted a moment to himself.Duncan followed behind, bringing the saddlebag with its precious burden, and Fergus recalled that it had to be secured, too.
It seemed he had only obligations at Killairic, instead of the joy he had anticipated for so long!
