Glancing up as Iain rose to greet the man, Islaen gaped. Never had she seen such a beautiful man. From his thick golden hair to his long, elegant and graceful body there appeared no flaw. It no longer surprised her that a voice could send shivers down her spine. As Iain introduced her to Alexander MacDubh, Islaen decided that such a voice suited a man like Alexander to perfection.
Subtly watching Islaen's reaction to Alexander, Iain suddenly understood why his brother Tavis, even after ten years of marriage to Storm, hated to have the man within feet of his wife. Islaen watched Alexander as if the man fascinated her. It struck Iain as highly contradictory that he did not want to be wed yet he did not want her to be drawn to any other man. Ignoring Alexander's amusement, Iain rather hastily agreed with Meg when the woman arrived to say that Islaen ought to take some time to view the preparations for the wedding.
"I hear the king arranged the marriage,” Alexander remarked as soon as Islaen had left.
"As he neatly arranged yours."
"True, but I think ye got a better bargain. Howbeit, I hear that many wish the bond broken ere it is e'en made."
"Ye have heard a lot for a mon who has but now arrived at court."
"Ah, weel, I had a talk with the Lady Constance."
"A talk, hmmm?"
"A short one followed by a kind lady's consolation for a lonely widower."
"Ye have been a widower for twa years. Ye bleed that ploy dry."
"And ye tell me naught. Have ye no words about the wedding or the wee sweet child to be your wife?"
"That child is nineteen.” He almost smiled at Alexander's surprise. “Lord Fraser and your cousin Ronald MacDubh wished to gain her hand. Neither is pleased that I now gain the dowry they hungered for. Aye and the lass. She has eleven brothers and a fither who would kill me in an instant if I cannae keep her weel and happy. Aye, I am to be wed but best ye not raise your tankard in salute unless ‘tis to wish me the luck to live ‘til the year's end."
"Especially with MacLennon still lurking about. Ye have stepped into a mire, have ye not."
"Aye and I am sinking fast."
"She seems a sweet lass. There could be some good to be found."
"Aye there could be, but I willnae seek it. She could wake up to find herself a widow but hours after she has become a bride. T'would be most cruel to play with her affections in any way when my life is in such danger."
"True and mayhaps ye run from the wrong things, Iain, my friend."
"I ken weel what I flee, Alexander."
"Do ye ken what ye can lose? I had no chance in my brief marriage. I wed a woman whose heart belonged to none, but whose body was given to all. The only good I gained was my wee daughter. Ye deny yourself all opportunity for some happiness. Aye and the lass."
"All I deny her is pain,” Iain said coldly, then abruptly changed the subject.
He did not think on Alexander's words again until he escorted Islaen into the hall for the last repast of the day. The way he planned to direct their lives was indeed unfair to Islaen, but he could think of no way to alter that. He was almost glad of Alexander's company as they dined, for the man kept Islaen from being too troubled by his remoteness. It was an appreciation that warred with something even he recognized as jealousy, as Alexander kept Islaen well amused, flattered her and flirted with her. By the time Iain escorted Islaen back to her chambers, he was not sure whether he considered Alexander a blessing or a curse.
"And what do ye think of Alexander?” he asked abruptly as they stopped outside her chamber's door.
A little startled by his question, as well as the fact that he had suddenly broken what had been an almost complete silence during the evening, Islaen answered, “He is verra nice."
"Verra nice, hmmm? An accomplished wooer of the lasses."
"Oh, aye, of course. A mon like that would take to wooing like a bairn to the breast of its mither. Do ye ken what makes him so good? He can do it and ye dinnae feel nervous or foolish or naught."
Smiling crookedly, he asked, “Nervous or foolish?"
"Aye. ‘Tis that voice of his, I am thinking. ‘Tis as soothing as a nurse's lullaby. He must get verra tired of people staring at him."
"Do ye think so?” Iain was finding her candid observations about Alexander amusing.
"Oh, aye. The mon kens how fine he looks but I dinnae think he is vain. An he lost his beauty I think he might regret that the ladies didnae fall into his arms as they did, but not much else. He might e'en be glad of it for then people would cease seeing naught but his beauty and look at the mon he is. I should not like to be so beautiful."
"Ah, but Islaen, ye are lovely."
"Nay,” she demurred, coloring slightly over his soft flattery. “I have freckles and my hair is too bold a color."
"I dinnae find it too bold."
"Ah, weel, ye may do so when ye see it loose.” She blushed when she realized when that would happen. “Ye have just seen a few locks slipping free, disobedient as my hair can be at times."
"Islaen, sometimes ye try too hard to be honest."
Her subsequent good night was subdued. Once inside of her chambers she leaned against the door and sighed. She felt riddled with guilt. She was not honest at all although she had tried to be on several occasions. The words stuck in her throat, however. There was a confession she had to make to Iain and time was running out. If she did not make it soon he would find out rather shockingly just how big a liar she could be.
