His man had already raced up the stairs and flung open the door.“What is amiss?”he demanded, his gaze darting between Stewart and Isobel.
“I do not know.I welcomed him as ever, but then he cried out.”
“Bitch!”Stewart bellowed.“Deceitful, wicked bitch!”
She dropped her voice to a whisper.“Perhaps a fit or fury,” she said to Stewart’s comrade.She lowered her gaze demurely.“I regret that he did not find his pleasure.”
“Ah!”said the guard.
Stewart began to swear more vehemently.He stumbled across the chamber, blood streaming down his cheek from beneath his fist, and tried to snatch at Isobel.
“He would finish what was left undone,” she whispered even as he roared.
His guard swore in astonishment.“Blood runs from his eyes!”
“God in Heaven!What has he done to himself?”Isobel whispered in mock horror.“I will get old Helga from the village!”
“Do!”the guard insisted.“Make haste, my lady.”He moved then to seize Stewart and forcibly guide him back to the bed.“My lord, you must be still.”
“Seize that witch...”
“My lord, I beg of you, show a care for your own welfare...”
Isobel ran, but she did not run to Helga in the village.She raced down the stairs and seized Gavin, carrying the sleepy boy.She spat on the girl, Agnes, when that whore might have tripped her and shoved her aside.Stewart was welcome to her charms!
Isobel fled to the stables and to the stall of the horse she had saddled the night before, after the ostler had retired.All her preparations had been made.She donned the kirtle left there and the boots.She seized the packed saddlebag she had left in the stall, then flung on the cloak folded beside it.She leaped into the saddle, hiding her son beneath the cloak, and holding him fast against her side.
“Hush, Gavin,” she said and he obeyed, curling his heat against her and closing his eyes.She raced the palfrey toward the gate.“My husband is stricken!”she cried to the sentries.“I must fetch help with all haste!”
The guards opened the portcullis, fools that they were, and Isobel galloped out of Dunnisbrae at speed.She took a breath of precious freedom, not caring how much she had left behind.Fergus would buy her more garments, and Killairic was far more prosperous that Dunnisbrae had become.Her father had oft said that good fortune must be claimed not waited upon.The sound of Stewart’s rage carried to them even at a distance and Isobel shivered.
She was rid of him, for good.
“Mother?”Gavin whispered.“What is wrong with Father?”
“Naught more than he deserves.”
“Then why are we leaving?”
Isobel kissed the top of her son’s head.She loved him more dearly on this morning than she had yet, for he was the key to the success of her scheme.“We ride to Killairic.”
“But why?”
“To meet some friends, Gavin.”
“But Father...”
“Is only angry this morn.He will be fine by the time he breaks his fast.”
“But...”
“Hush, Gavin.All will be well.”Isobel touched her heels to the horse’s flanks, smiling at the prospect of success.
It was the only possible outcome, after all, with a scheme so infallible as this.
It waslate afternoon when Fergus noted some agitation at the village gates.A woman shouted and it looked as if a palfrey had arrived.It was unusual for a horse to arrive alone, particularly ridden by a woman, and Fergus headed for the gates to investigate.The sentry argued with the woman and though Fergus could not discern their words, he feared he recognized the woman’s voice.
Had his vexation with Isobel summoned her to Killairic?It seemed as much.He feared that Leila might imagine it were so.He quickened his pace, hoping he was wrong.
