"Nay,” Islaen grumbled, “every few days he feels a need to come to me for a good rutting."
"Islaen,” Storm gasped, torn between laughter and worry. “Is it truly that bad?"
"Weel, mayhaps not. I am but too sensitive, mayhaps. It does seem, though, that he stays no longer than is necessary to sate his body's hungers. The last time he didnae e'en arrive in time to dine with me and he always leaves ere I waken in the morn."
Wincing slightly, Storm murmured, “It does sound a bit, well, cold."
"Aye. I begin to feel like a whore."
"Ye must not think so, Islaen. I know he would ne'er want ye to think that. Instead, take hope in the fact that he cannot keep away from you. Aye, it seems as if ‘tis but a lusting, but he does not really need you to sate that. I am certain there is a wench or two about Muircraig that would gladly become the leman of the new laird, yet he rides for hours to seek your bed."
"I do think it. ‘Tis all that of times keeps me from striking him.” She smiled crookedly when Storm laughed. “'Tis just that he gives me no chance to win him, to woo him. I had hoped that, once away from court, we would have time together, time for me to weaken his efforts at keeping us strangers. I feel sure that, an I can make a break in that cursed wall he has built around his heart, t'will crumble. I cannae do it when he stays out of reach. That keeps us strangers."
"It makes it harder, aye, but do not ignore the importance of that time in the night."
"Och, I dinnae. ‘Tis just that I grow a wee bit weary of only seeing him soften in the night. Weel, at least this way I neednae face that stranger each dawning. ‘Tis a blessing of a sort. That did grow muckle tiring."
Their talk was abruptly ended when they entered the nursery. Although the twins, Aingeal and Taran, were nine and beginning their training, they too were there. With so much to do, their time together with their mother was considered more important than any training, for it was too rare. Islaen recalled her mother doing the same and then her father until they were all of an age to dine together.
She smiled as the youngest, two-year-old Blythe, toddled her way. Soon they were all involved in a game. It went slowly for each child had a great deal he or she wished to tell Storm, but none complained. The game was merely used to keep them seated in a companionable circle as the children took greedy advantage of having their mother's undivided attention. As she watched the group, helping to keep Blythe from chewing on the game pieces, Islaen felt that Iain would not, indeed could not, fault her for refusing to let him deny them a family.
Iain frowned as he entered the hall. Having not found Islaen in their chambers, he had paused only long enough to wash up before seeking her in the hall. She was not there either and he was not sure about where else to look.
"Looking for Islaen?"
"Aye, Tavis. Have ye seen her?"
"I was told she was with Storm. Since that is where I am bound right now, ye may as weel come along."
"With the bairns?” Iain asked as they strode along and he recognized where they were heading.
"Aye, ‘tis their time with Storm. Can ye no hear them?” Tavis asked, grinning as the sounds of rowdy children grew louder. “Here now,” Tavis growled with mock sternness as he paused in the doorway, then waded into the tangle of laughing children and women. “Here is a muckle great noise."
Iain watched his laughing wife sit up, a giggling Blythe clinging to her. Islaen was flushed and disheveled but looked happy and content. It was obvious to anyone who cared to look that she thoroughly enjoyed being with the children. It was also obvious that the children had accepted her quickly and completely.
He felt swamped with guilt. Because of the fears he could not conquer, he was denying her all of that. However, each time he held Islaen close, his fear grew stronger. Even the guilt he felt now did not really ease that fear.
As she approached him, trying vainly to tidy her appearance, Islaen wondered about the look upon Iain's face. His expression was remote but his eyes were clouded with troubled thoughts.
"Ye have returned early this time,” she said quietly, smiling her welcome. “Is there any trouble?"
"Nay.” He absently tidied her hair. “I but need extra time here to gather supplies. Where is Alex?"
"He left for home early this morn. He said he had been too long away from his daughter."
"Weel, I shallnae miss his unasked advice."
"Why did ye not tell me about Lord Fraser?"
Iain's step faltered slightly and he eyed her warily. He could easily see her annoyance and understood it even as he cursed Alexander for having too busy a mouth. Iain was not really sure why he had said nothing to her. He did not want to hurt her by repeating the man's loathsome insults but that was not really reason enough to keep her ignorant about a danger that lurked around her.
"I am nay too sure why. He spoke most unkindly about ye,” he said quietly as they entered the nearly deserted hall.
"Aye. I ken it. He calls me a whore, a temptress, mind ye. Wheesht, what a fool. Me, a temptress.” She shook her head.
Smiling with a soft lechery as he sat her at the table and poured them each some wine, Iain murmured, “Ye surely tempt me, sweeting. Can ye fetch us some bread and cheese, David?” he asked a young page as he sat down.
"That is most convenient since we are wed,” she retorted softly, even though she blushed over his words.
