Chapter Tweny-two
"He will, of course, immediately suspect me of having a hand in this,” Alexander said as he and Islaen neared Muircraig.
"An all goes weel, that shouldnae be any great burden to bear. I hope this works,” she muttered, beginning to feel nervous.
"Islaen, if ye but get him alone and employ but some of what I taught you, his capitulation is assured."
She giggled. “What vanity. Ah, but Alex, I am nay as pretty as you, nor do I have such a fine, seductive voice."
"I find your voice most seductive,” he murmured, reaching out to capture her hand in his and kiss it.
"Behave yourself, ye rogue. Beltraine will be jealous.” She patted her mount's strong neck and stared at Muircraig.
To her eyes the keep looked more than ready to be lived in. That opinion changed little the nearer they got. It looked strong enough to protect those who lived within from both hostile armies and hostile weather. She felt the pinch of hurt and insult and ruefully admitted that she had hoped to find some visual reason for Iain's neglect. If the keep had been in ruins, she would have had something to excuse him with, thus soothing her feelings. Instead, she found a place that the most exacting could find pride in.
As she rode through the gates she briefly felt an urge to turn around and return to Caraidland. Standing close to Iain was a woman Islaen had hoped never to see again. For a moment, all her fears swamped her but then she found her courage. She was not about to run away as if she was in the wrong. If he was using Muircraig as a trysting spot, then he was the one in the wrong.
"Easy now, lass. That she-wolf's presence doesnae mean there had been aught going on,” Alexander said softly.
Islaen was not so sure of that. Iain looked rather guilty to her. She fought for calm as she approached her husband, telling herself that Robert would not have allowed anything to happen. A small voice in her mind asked her just what Robert could have done to stop it and she ruthlessly shut it up. She would do Iain the courtesy of believing him innocent until he was proven otherwise. Fixing Lady Mary with a cold look, Islaen decided that she owed that woman no courtesy at all.
Iain stared at his wife in near horror. She had never come to Muircraig of her own accord before. He felt it was the worst piece of luck that she should come now. His mind went blank as he tried to think of an explanation for Lady Mary's presence. He could all too easily guess what his wife thought, especially when he saw how hard her usually soft eyes had gone. Forcibly, he shook himself free of his shock. It was an awkard situation but there was nothing for him to feel guilty about.
"Islaen,” he murmured and kissed her cheek, fighting to hide how stirred he was by the fresh, clean scent of her, “What has brought ye to Muircraig?"
"I but wished to see what has been done. Greetings, Lady Mary. Ye look weel."
"As do ye, m'lady.” Mary struggled to hide her fury over this interruption. “I hear ye are now a mother."
"Aye, m'lady. I dropped the litter near six months past,” Islaen drawled, then grinned when Alexander choked on a laugh.
"How witty,” Mary murmured, then tucked her arm through Iain's. “Iain was just about to show me Muircraig."
"Ye can see it verra weel from here,” Iain muttered as he extracted himself from Lady Mary's hold, “or mayhaps Robert will escort ye about.” He looked at Islaen's grinning brother who did nothing to hide a grimace of distaste at the suggestion.
"But, Iain,” Lady Mary pouted, “I came so far just to see you."
"So did my wife, m'lady."
The anger Lady Mary could not hide almost made Islaen smile but she scolded herself for such pettiness. She also reminded herself that the ease with which Iain was pushing Lady Mary aside was not really proof of anything. The woman was still a threat and, until she was more secure in her marriage, Islaen felt she would be a fool not to recognize that threat.
She found it difficult not to bombard Iain with questions as he took her around Muircraig. The presence of Lady Mary at Muircraig was but one of the many things she wanted explained. Islaen sensed, however, that direct questioning was not the way to get any answers from Iain. If he wished her to know, he would tell her in his own good time.
"Ye are right, Iain. We should be able to winter in this place,” she said as they returned to the bailey. “Are ye sure ‘tis not ready now?” She felt sure it was and that he knew it but was curious about what answer he would give.
"There are still a few things that must be done ere I feel it secure enough for ye and the bairns."
'Verra weel said,’ she thought wryly. Iain had clearly learned a lot from the courtiers who sought favor at court. He was pushing her away again, refusing her, yet made it seem as if it were all for her own good. She wished that she had such a skill with words.
Glancing down at his wife, Iain caught a look in her eyes that nearly made him wince. She did not believe him. He could not really blame her. Muircraig was secure and it would be comfortable. The work he did now was but extra strengthening of the defenses and a few slight additions to the living quarters to add to their comfort, ideas he had gathered in France and from foreign visitors to court. They were things that could be done while they lived there with little or no lessening of comfort or safety. He was hiding at Muircraig and he had the distressing feeling that she suspected as much even if she did not know why. He wondered why she did not question him about it for she was usually most forthright.
"'Tis time to eat,” he murmured as he saw the men start to put down their tools. “I fear all we have to offer ye is camp fare."
"Ye ken weel that I have no complaint about that. Howbeit, mayhaps such a thing will make ye more amiable to what I had planned."
She was looking at him in a coy, teasing way that made him ache to kiss her even as he wondered when and where she had learned such a trick. “And what is your plan?"
"I have in that pannier ye can see upon Beltraine a fine meal. All the best delicacies of Caraidland and some verra fine wine."
