"He thinks he has found it in you."
"What he sees is that I see the beauty, aye, but I see the rest too. That is what he wants, a lass who will see past his face and form. Once another lass does that he will ne'er e'en passingly think of me as more than a friend and a body can ne'er have enough good friends. He is your friend too, Iain,” she added quietly.
Iain nodded, understanding all that she said and inferred. If he tossed Islaen aside as he had almost done when he had gone with Mary, Alexander would be right there for her, but otherwise he would be no more than a friend. It was, nevertheless, a little unsettling to have such a mon ready and willing to take over his wife if the chance arose. Suddenly, he felt a greater understanding of Tavis's feelings. He supposed that Alexander would find it amusing to have two MacLagans scowling his way and hovering over their wives.
He thought of that again as Caraidland came into view the next day, and looked at Alexander who rode at his side. “Tavis will be so verra pleased to see you,” he drawled.
Alexander laughed. “Aye. I always get a warm greeting at Caraidland."
A wild cry broke the relative quiet of the countryside. Islaen stared wide-eyed at the rider charging towards them. Surely one man would never try to attack all of them, she thought, and then saw Iain grin. A moment later the youth came to an impressively neat halt before them and grinned back at Iain.
Despite the brightness of her own family's hair, Islaen found the youth's orange hair a wonder. She knew he could not be kin to the MacLagans for she had heard enough about them to know that they were dark. He looked at her and she nearly gasped. His eyes were beautiful, vaguely slanted, thickly lashed and a warm rich amber in color.
"Phelan, ye will be killed one day for someone will think ye some attacking madman,” Iain drawled."
"Sure'n are ye certain I am not?” Phelan grinned, then nodded towards Islaen. “And this fair maid is your wife?"
"Aye. Islaen MacRoth ere she became a MacLagan. Islaen, this wild mon is Sir Phelan O'Connor."
When he kissed her hand with all the grace of a skilled courtier, Islaen felt his long hair brush her hand and was bemused to find that it felt as soft and sun-kissed as the marigolds it resembled. She blushed when he looked at her. For all the sweet boyishness of his face, his eyes held the warm appreciation of a man who was no stranger to passion.
"M'lady,” he murmured in a soft, rich voice she could not help but compare to Alexander's.
"Oh, Islaen, will do."
He smiled. “And I am but Phelan. The sir but means that I was in the right place at the right time."
A glance at Iain told her the young man was being modest. That and the fact that he looked too young to carry the accolade of sir told her that he shrugged away an act that probably made for an exciting tale. She knew instinctively, however, that she would not get the whole story from him, that he really did believe it all a simple piece of luck. There was something about the young man that made her relax just a little concerning her impending meeting with Iain's family.
"Your father has a feast in the making. Caraidland has been a mad whirl since your squire arrived yester morn."
"And that is why ye are out riding o'er the hills, Phelan?"
"Aye, Iain. They kept trying to put me to work. T'was not easy escaping Storm's keen eye either.” Phelan grinned impishly at Alexander. “Mayhaps I should hie back to warn Tavis that this pretty mon rides along with ye. Sure ‘n he will be so pleased."
"Nay, let it be a surprise. ‘Tis why I told Murdo to say naught,” Iain drawled. “Mayhaps Alexander will tell Tavis why he blesses us with his charming company."
"Can a mon not travel to see his friends without his reasons being suspect?” Alexander asked soulfully.
Islaen realized with surprise that Alexander had yet to explain himself to Iain. Although Iain might not appreciate Alexander's reasons for joining them, an explanation would ease the suspicions Iain so clearly held. It was evident that Alexander found it amusing to let Iain puzzle over it. Islaen decided a little crossly that Alexander's idea of fun could get quite annoying at times.
"Nay, not when he sets a mon's wife to sighing,” Iain said dryly.
"Are ye sighing, m'lady?” Alexander asked Islaen.
She met his grin with a mildly disgusted look, then, closing her eyes, placed one hand upon her breast and the back of the other across her forehead. “Aye. Wheesht, I am near to swooning upon the ground at your feet."
"Ye will be upon the ground soon if ye dinnae keep the reins in your hand,” Iain muttered as the men laughed.
"Nay. He willnae move. I told him to be still.” Islaen hugged her stallion's neck. “He is a verra good lad, arenae ye boy?” she cooed.
"'Tis a stallion ye have there, m'lady, not a lap dog,” Iain said with mock disgust. “Weel, shall we cease sitting here and finish this journey?” Iain asked and there was a round of hearty agreement from the men.
Sighing inwardly, Islaen urged her mount onward, staying close to Iain. She could sense his eagerness to see his family. He did not seem at all aware of the fact that she was not quite so eager.
As they rode through the gates she tried to divert herself from her growing apprehension by studying Caraidland. Here was no simple tower house. It was large, strong and well run, if the orderliness about her was any indication. The MacLagans might be a small clan, but they looked strong and there was the air of wealth to the place. Islaen could easily understand the pride that colored Iain's voice every time he spoke of Caraidland.
Iain helped her dismount and felt her tension. He suddenly realized that she might not share his delight in coming to Caraidland. He was coming home but she was riding into a nest of strangers.
"Come, love, t'will not be so bad,” he said gently. “Ye are at least not a complete surprise. They do expect you."
She managed a weak smile for him as they moved towards the keep. There waited a huge group of people. Islaen found herself caught up in a dizzying round of introductions. While everyone seemed friendly she sensed a wariness in them. They were as unsure about her as she was about them. Islaen prayed that in the trial period to come she did not step too far wrong.
