She was surprised to see she now would forsake the letter entirely if only it would mean that Iain would speak to her again.
* * *
Iain felt the young woman's arms around him and tried to ignore it.
He had trembled for a moment when she touched him, and he hoped she hadn't noticed. He knew that she would not speak a word about it, however, and instead thought about the way ahead of them.
He could not put thoughts of her out of his head as hard as he tried. She was so close to him he could feel her breathing, and for a moment, he thought she was crying. He dare not turn around to look at her again, though; he had already done so far too many times to justify it again. Still, her breath had hitched, and he thought he heard her sniffle as though tears were falling freely from her eyes.
If only he could reach back and brush them away, he would. Surely Isla hated him now; he had called her a liar right to her face, accused her of deliberately deceiving him, and had raised his voice at her in anger. He could only imagine how she felt. He had been so angry, furious with her for lying to him.
Now though, regret was beginning to seep into the very essence of his heart. Shame over his behavior and his reaction had taken hold of him, and he would not let go. Isla had done everything she could to show him she would not flee, that she would heal his men, that she would heal him, and he had tossed it back at her so callously. It was more than disrespectful of him; it had been hateful.
She was so loving with him, so tender. When he was with her, the world did not hurt quite so much, and he felt the wounds and scars that marred his heart begin to heal.
So why did I treat her so terribly?
The only answer he had was the image of Duncan Robertson's face. The thought of him had been buzzing in his mind when Isla was speaking to him; even now, he saw the man smirking at him, his bloodied blade in hand. It had filled him full of white-hot rage, and he had taken it out, instead, on Isla.
He sighed, unable to stop himself, and felt her straighten. They had been riding for a few hours, and he was beginning to feel his stomach ache in hunger again. The little bite of bread and cheese he had taken earlier did nothing to nourish him, and he knew it would be wise to stop now and allow Jacob and Gamelin to hunt. If they could find something to settle their stomachs, it would only make the trip that much more bearable.
"We'll stop here for now," he said. "Ye two, try and see if ye can bring back something to fill us up for now. Aymer, ye stay here and see if ye cannae get a fire started. If the men bring back game, we'll want it cooked an' edible as soon as possible."
"Aye, m'Laird," the men said in chorus.
The two men slid down from their horses, helping Aymer down from his as well. He could stand now easily and was able to walk, though not fast nor far. Iain was happy to see that the man could even put a little weight on the leg, and dry tinder was easy to find. It was a simple enough job for him.
"After this, we'll get back on our way," Iain said. "I cannae stomach another hour without a proper meal, however."
He was speaking to Isla, though he was not surprised when she only murmured a reply that he could not hear. It was a sound of affirmation, spoken as though she did not know what to say to him. The seed of shame that had been planted inside of him bloomed and then opened up into an ugly blossom.
He had set himself back with her more paces than he could count; all of the bonding and discussion and love-making had been erased out of her mind, he could tell. She refused to look at him and had backed herself up against a tree while Aymer collected the tinder.
Iain thought he might approach her then, but she looked so delicate she might shatter if he did. He stood a healthy distance away from her, giving her space so that she might feel safe again. He watched as her hands twisted together, her slender fingers intertwining with each other.
There came the desire to approach her and weave his hands along with hers, but he knew deep in his heart he would never feel her soft touch again.
Chapter Sixteen
Isla felt as though she were nearly swimming in misery.
Iain had not even been able to stand close to her; he had given her a wide berth and had not even lifted his head to look at her. She stood there awkwardly, holding her arms to her body and keeping her eyes on the ground below her.
When he spoke, she had hoped that he was speaking directly to her, but she could not tell and so had simply mumbled a general reply. He did not speak again, and she wondered then if she had irritated him by not staying silent.
Iain drifted around the makeshift camp, helping Aymer grab whatever dry wood they could find and tossing it on a small pile. She watched as his broad shoulders cleared out a patch of dirt beneath the treetops, working against the earth, and he stacked the wood in the center of it.
He turned then and grabbed the rucksack, fishing around inside of it for something. In his hands was a small pebble, a flintstone, and he tossed it to Aymer, who caught it easily.
The man lit the fire quickly, and Isla felt the desire to drift towards it. She had begun to feel terribly cold after her swim in the loch, but she wasn't sure if it was from the chill in the air or the iciness inside the Laird's heart.
"Ye think that Gamelin an' Jacob will come back soon, m'Laird?" Aymer asked, pulling out his flask of whisky. "I hope tha' they'll be alrigh'."
"They'll be fine, Aymer," Iain said moodily. "We've already had one man mauled by beasts. I dinnae think tha' our bad luck runs so rampant we'd have it happen twice."
Aymer didn't reply but nodded and took another swig from his flask. It wasn't long until the rustling of foliage alerted them. Isla sat up, her eyes straying to the Laird. He craned his neck up to see who was approaching them and Isla watched as his body relaxed when Gamelin and Jacob pushed their way through the branches. Gamelin was holding two partridges and smiling widely.
"Enough fer a decent enough meal, m'Laird," he said. "It'll settle our stomachs, and then we can be off as quick as ye like."
