"Ye be a cold mon, Iain MacLagan,” the twenty-six-year-old Robert said with no real criticism shading his voice, “and Islaen isnae accustomed to that. We will be ill-pleased if ye hurt her with your hard nature."
"Or elsewise,” Duncan growled.
All the brothers nodded one by one and slowly left. Iain soon found himself standing alone. As he moved to go to his chambers he contemplated the warning he had just been given. They had not said exactly what form their retribution would take, but he decided it mattered little. Neither had they said that they would be watching him all the time, but the implication that they would was clear. One needed little imagination to sort out the various particulars of the threat. Any hurt he dealt Islaen would come back upon him twelve-fold, for he was certain that the absent brothers and the father would also stand behind the threat.
As he made his way to his chambers, he saw the many signs of the preparations for his wedding. For a brief instant he felt the natural resentment of a man caught in a trap but he forced it aside. Such feeling could easily turn itself upon Islaen, and she did not deserve it. She was as trapped as he. He wondered how she felt about it.
"Why did ye wear this fool thing when ye ken how poorly ye move in it?” Meg grumbled as she tried to clean the grass-stained houppelande.
"I wished to impress Sir Iain."
"He's nay courting ye, lass. The marriage is set firm."
"Aye and it must feel like a noose about his neck. I just thought to ease the rub of the hemp by showing him that I could be as fine as all those other ladies that eye him so."
"Whores. Ye neednae fash yourself o'er them. Ye will be the mon's wife and none can be changing that."
Islaen decided there was little point in trying to explain her thoughts and feelings to Meg. When it came to men and matters of the heart they would never really agree.
What Islaen put her mind to was yet another way to show Iain that he was not getting such a bad bargain. By the next morning she felt she had one. As she stood impatiently while being fitted for her wedding gown she decided to show him that he could speak to her about most anything, that she could be the best and most trusted of confidants. She was fairly certain he could count upon his brothers for such a thing, but they had their own very full lives and might not always be there for Iain. A wife would ever be at hand.
Iain politely greeted Islaen when she joined him for dinner, but inwardly he frowned. There was a glint in her lovely eyes that he was already beginning to recognize. Her attempts to impress him were clearly not at an end despite the blunder with high fashion.
As they ate he began to see her game. It was a dangerous one although he knew she did not see that. If he allowed her to be his confidant she would soon be far more. All he could do was fight this newest lure she held out and hope he did not hurt her too much by doing so.
Silently cursing, Islaen decided that Iain was not being very cooperative at all. She felt as if she were banging her head against a stone wall. While he was never rude nor cutting, neither did he tell her anything. By the time they separated she had a terrible headache. Retiring to a bench removed from the rather large crowd of people in the hall she tried to soothe her aching head even as she wondered what it was she was doing wrong, if perhaps she was being too subtle.
"All alone, Mistress MacRoth?"
Biting back a curse, Islaen looked up at her unwanted intruder. Lord Donald Fraser was a man whose body and face revealed his tendency to excess. His attempt at high fashion only showed that his stocky figure was becoming more fat than muscle. What really unsettled her about the man was the look in his rather small grey eyes. They revealed his lusts. When he took a seat beside her, uninvited, she quickly became aware of the fact that the man was none too fond of soap and water.
"I had but sought a moment of quiet.” She was not surprised when he did not acknowledge her hint to be left alone.
"Aye, there are far too many at court. Your wedding will be well attended, much witnessed."
She nodded and struggled to be courteous. “'Tis a pity that Sir MacLagan's family cannae be here."
"What is a pity is that the king has sacrificed ye to a mon with no heart."
"Ye speak unfairly about a mon who is soon to be my husband,” she said coldly.
"Ah, lass, ye act brave and ‘tis honourable that ye strive to defend the mon, but all ken the truth."
"I cannae guess what truth they think they ken,” she snapped and edged away from him, wondering how he could keep getting closer yet not appear to move. “They trouble themselves with that which isnae their concern."
"None can help but be concerned when they see a young lass with your beauty given o'er to a mon who cares naught for any woman. ‘Tis well kent his heart was buried with his first wife. Aye and the warmth a wife needs. There is many a mon here who aches to give ye what a cold mon like MacLagan ne'er can. I am but one of many, but I pray that ye will see me more clearly than all the others,” he said huskily, his gaze fixed upon her partially agape mouth.
When his arm had slipped around her she had stiffened in surprise. As his words became understandable to her she gaped slightly. She could not believe the man would be so utterly audacious as to woo her before all the court, her betrothed and her brothers but feet away. When she realized he was actually attempting to kiss her she gave a soft cry of revulsion and leapt to her feet even as she shoved him away from her.
Taken by surprise by her abrupt retreat, Lord Fraser was unseated by her push. Islaen spared only one brief glance for her vilely cursing erstwhile lover before fleeing. Intending to seek the safety of the nearest of her protectors, she was pleased to see that that was Iain. Politely greeting the three people he spoke with, she hooked her arm through his and stood close by his side. By the time she spared another glance for Lord Fraser, the man was on his feet. He sent her a look that chilled her blood before striding away, and Islaen huddled even closer to Iain.
For a moment she bemoaned her cowardice, then told herself not to let pride make her a fool. Her brothers had once admitted to her that only a fool felt no fear, that men simply hid it well most of the time. It would also be foolish to think she could face one such as Lord Fraser alone. A person of her small stature was wise to accept her limitations. If Fraser got a hold of her, only luck would save her then. She certainly did not have the strength to fight a full-grown man. Wit and swiftness of foot were her best weapons and they only went so far. She would not, however, tell Iain all that had happened just yet, for she wished to avoid the trouble that could bring.
Her thoughts on Lord Fraser were abruptly ended when her attention was drawn by one of the two women talking to Iain. Lady Constance was fulsome and lovely. She was also brazenly flirting with Iain. A quick glance at Iain told Islaen nothing. If he noticed the woman's attentions, he was concealing it very well. Islaen found the attentions annoying. Her glare, however, only brought a condescending look from the older woman. Islaen wished she could think of a way to extract Iain from the others. When the woman used the slimmest of excuses to caressingly touch Iain, Islaen resisted the urge to slap her hand and decided to use the first opportunity to get Iain away from the woman.
Feeling Islaen's grip tighten slightly, Iain glanced down at her. “Ye are looking somewhat flushed, wee Islaen."
Considering how furious she was with the fawning Lady Constance, Islaen was not surprised. She also saw her chance to separate Iain from the small group. Resting her cheek against his arm, she gazed up at him from beneath her lashes.
