Nodding, Alexander told them of the attack upon Iain. So too did he tell them of Lady Mary's games. By the time he finished relating all that had happened in court the MacLagans were both dismayed and angry.
"It sounds as if they should have left court weeks ago,” murmured Storm.
"Most of that happened in the last few days but, aye, it will be better for them here. Is Maura still about?"
Thinking of the woman who had so avidly pursued Iain before he had gone to court, Storm grimaced. “Aye, though I believe she has set her aim at another. She is not wed yet, though, and not too far away either."
"Ah, weel, at least she is but one and not many as there were at court."
"Do ye really think the lass can pull him from himself? Stop him from being the cold mon he fights to be?"
"Aye, Colin, but it would help if MacLennon was dead. Until then,” Alexander shrugged. “Watch them when they come down to indulge in the feasting. Ye will see what I mean. If the matter werenae such a sad one t'would be funny. Iain catches himself softening and pulls back whilst poor, wee Islaen struggles to stop that retreat, wavering between sadness and anger."
"Well, what matters most this night,” Storm said firmly, “is that the girl is very nervous and we must put her at ease."
Islaen stared at herself in the mirror and then cursed softly, bringing a muttered reprimand from a harrassed Meg. She knew she was being a nuisance and perhaps foolish but she was desperate to look her best. Not used to her breasts being unbound she could only see a rather vast amount of bosom when she donned her fine gowns.
"I look the veriest whore,” she said sulkily, glaring at the soft rise of her full breasts.
"Ochane, ye will drive me mad,” hissed Meg. “Do ye mean to change again?"
"Nay, she doesnae."
Iain grinned when both women turned abruptly to gape at him. He had stood in the doorway watching Islaen fret for several minutes. It was rather amusing to watch her struggle to hide what most other women would flaunt. She would clearly need a while yet before she was used to seeing herself unbound.
"But, Iain, I..."
"Ye look fine, lass,” he said sincerely as he moved to stand before her.
"Are ye sure? I wouldnae want your kin to think me shameless."
"That they would ne'er think. Ye best come with me, lass, or t'will be little there is for us to eat."
She smiled weakly and let him pull her along with him. Her gown was lovely and well made, of the finest materials, but she was certain she was showing far too much of herself. She colored with nervousness and embarrassment when she entered the hall at Iain's side and all eyes turned towards her. It was not the best time, as far as she was concerned, to wear such a gown. As a stranger, and Iain's new wife, all eyes were upon her anyways. Now was the time to be extremely demure.
Seated at the laird's left, it did not take Islaen long to feel she had been given the best of seats. Colin was an open, friendly man and reminded her of her father in many ways. Within moments, she was feeling at ease.
It took a little longer to be sure she wished to be opposite Tavis's lovely wife, Storm. Never had she been so close to a Sassanach although there had been times when some more or less friendly contact had been made with England. That Storm was not only accepted by the MacLagans but loved helped ease the awkwardness as did Storm's friendly manner. It seemed as if Storm was more than willing to accept a new lady at Caraidland, even seemed genuinely glad of it. Tentatively, Islaen eased her wary stance, reaching for the friendship Storm seemed to offer.
It would be nice to have a woman friend, Islaen decided. She had Meg but Meg was more like a mother than a friend. Meg also had no experience with marriage and little with men. A woman to discuss things with, to confide in, could be very beneficial. Sometimes, Islaen mused, she felt very much alone as she struggled to adjust to marriage and being away from her home and her large family. Neither would it hurt to have some advice, she thought wryly. In her position, mistakes were costly. Storm had had ten years with the MacLagans, and Islaen grew more and more eager to discuss that, to ask questions.
Soon after the food began to disappear, musicians began to play. Islaen mused that Colin had managed quite an impressive feast despite the short notice he had received of their arrival. She wondered if the man had started planning it when he had been sent word of his son's marriage. It was something he was obviously delighted about, if somewhat cautiously.
Islaen decided that Colin's wariness was not directed at her. Colin evidently knew of his son's fears and problems. She wondered just how much Colin had done to try to change his son's opinions and attitudes. A faint smile touched her face as she envisioned the two strong, stubborn men in such a confrontation. Having seen many such confrontations amongst her brothers and father she had a very good idea of what it would have been like.
When the dancing began, Islaen found herself much in demand. It was a long while before she was able to retreat to a modestly quiet corner to catch her breath. As she finished a long refreshing draught of ale, she looked up to find Storm taking a seat upon the bench next to her.
"Do not look so wary, Islaen,” Storm said gently and smiled. “Might I call ye Islaen?"
"Oh, aye. T'would be most confusing if we called each other m'lady all the day long."
Storm laughed softly and said teasingly, “We shall save it for when we are annoyed with each other."
"Do ye think there will come such a time?"
"But of course. I have a fierce temper and I would wager that ye do as well."
"Aye, I fear ‘tis so."
