Not fully taking in what she saw, Islaen watched Alexander forcefully restrain Iain from delivering any more blows to a badly battered Lord Fraser. When Iain finally stopped, Lord Fraser slid to the floor and did not move again. Wrapping her arms about herself in a vain attempt to stop her shaking, Islaen stared up at her husband when he crouched before her.
"Is he dead?” she whispered.
"Nay, I think not. Did he rape ye?"
"Almost.” She felt the tears she had held back begin to flow. “I want a bath,” she said shakily.
When Iain reached for her Alexander stopped him. “Ye opened your wound when ye were tossing yon scum about. I will carry the lass.” He helped Iain stand, then gently picked Islaen up in his arms. “Dinnae scowl so, Iain. Ye would most like drop her. Ye will need what strength ye have left just to get yourself back to your chambers. What about him?"
Glancing at Lord Fraser Iain needed a moment to resist the urge to rouse the unconscious man so that he could hit him again. “Leave him. Someone will find him an he doesnae crawl back into his hole of his own accord."
As they hurried to Iain's chambers both men tried to get Islaen to stop crying. She had gained some semblance of control by the time Meg, fetched by Iain's squire, arrived. As Meg took her behind the screen to help her scrub herself clean and tend to her small wounds, Alexander tended to a distracted Iain.
"Did ye see what that animal did to her?” Iain growled. “I should kill him."
"And have all the world ask the reason? Do ye wish the lass to suffer that shame? Ye ken weel that none will believe he didnae possess her and many will think her to have been willing, that she cried rape to save herself from your wrath."
His wound cleaned and reclosed, Iain took a deep drink of ale to still the throbbing. He recognized the truth of Alexander's words but cursed the unfairness of it. The silence that would be necessary to save Islaen from the blackening of her name especially galled him when Meg tucked her up in bed at his side and he saw the bruises Fraser had inflicted. Somehow he would make the man pay even if he had to wait years to do it.
Islaen said little as Alexander and Meg said their good-nights. She lay stiff and silent at Iain's side even after they were alone. The bath had helped calm her but she still felt defiled. Although she knew she was not at fault, had done nothing to invite the attack, she could not help but fear that Iain would now be repulsed by her, see her body as soiled by Fraser's mauling. From what she had dared to view of her sore body, there did not seem to be any part of her that Iain could view without being reminded of Fraser's brutal attack.
Iain gently pulled her into his arms, felt her tension and felt a renewed anger at Lord Fraser. “Dinnae come to fear me too, lass."
"I dinnae fear ye, Iain. I dinnae ken how ye can bear to touch me."
"Wheesht, lass, it wasnae your fault. If we werenae so battered that t'would cause us more pain than pleasure I would love ye thoroughly right now to let ye see clearly how weel I can bear to touch ye, aye, want to touch ye still."
After lying in the comfort of his arms for a while, Islaen began to believe him and relaxed. Once her fear of his rejection was eased she felt weariness overtake her. The day had been long and too full of danger. Despite her aches and pains she cuddled up to Iain and knew she would soon be asleep.
"Better, lass?” he asked softly, caressing her hair.
"Aye, better, but, Iain?"
"Aye, lass?"
"Can we go home?” she whispered, not wishing to push but desperate now to leave court.
"Aye, lass. On the morrow an I can manage it, but by the next day for certain,” he swore and soon felt her relax in sleep.
