“I’d planned to take the cattle to the fair at Port Righ next week, but it appears I cannot delay.” Though only twenty years old, the fair at Port Righ grew each year in popularity, attracting more and more people from beyond the Isle. The Islanders brought their goods, usually sheep, cows, linen, and cheese, twice a year to sell or trade.
“You will be back soon?”
Rory shook his head. “I must leave for Edinburgh directly after the fair.” He masked his anger. James’s missive had reminded him of the onerous duty of all the Island chiefs to present themselves in Edinburgh once a year before the Privy Council to show their “good behavior.” Ever since James had assumed power in his own right nearly fifteen years ago, he’d been tightening his grip on the Highlands and the Isles with a series of new laws—the General Band—aimed straight at the heart of the clan chief’s authority.
Rory and the other Highland chiefs chafed uncomfortably under James’s unwelcome bridle. For hundreds of years, the Highlands and Isles had existed almost as their own fiefdom: a Gaelic kingdom under the dominion of Clan Donald, the Lords of the Isles. But since the forfeiture of the Lordship over a hundred years ago, the largely ineffective Scottish central government had, by necessity, led to the rise in power of the clan chief. Now the king sought to change that shift in power by weakening the authority of the clan chief. Presenting themselves at court was just another way James sought to remind them all of that shift.
Instead of giving voice to his frustration, he said simply, “The king has requested my immediate presence.”
Her eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together. “You’re going to court!”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“But this is grand. I was just telling Margaret—”
Rory told her brusquely, “I’m afraid I must travel alone,” and he could read her disappointment.
“I see,” she said. But she didn’t.
“Alex will be in charge while I am gone.”
She didn’t say anything. He turned to leave, but something held him back. The memory of last night was still too fresh in his mind, as were the sensations that rocked his body. He’d leave the book for her, but she needed to know something else. He tipped her chin and forced her gaze to his. “Never believe that I didn’t want you.”
Her gaze softened. Before he could stop himself, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a hard, fast kiss. A real kiss, not like the one she’d given his brother. This kiss was of possession. A reminder to leave her with.
When at last he released her, he left without a backward glance. Not wanting her to see how difficult it was for him to do so.
Chapter 11
“Margaret, I must venture beyond the walls of this castle before the winter storms come or I shall surely turn half-crazed.”
Margaret, who was sitting at the large library table across from Isabel, lifted her face from the ledgers and grinned broadly. Little was left of the shy, tentative creature to whom Isabel had first been introduced. Except for the patch. Margaret’s nose wrinkled.
“Isabel dearest, you know what Alex said. It is not safe to travel about the forests right now with the Mackenzie’s recent attacks.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Of course, ifyouask, mayhap Alex will agree to a short outing. He seems unable to refuse you anything.”
Isabel laughed uncomfortably at Margaret’s gibe. Although Alex did not show it openly, she sensed some thing beyond brotherly affection reflected in his dark blue eyes when he looked at her. Isabel suspected that he thought himself infatuated with her. She would have to speak with him soon, but she wanted to give him time to work it out on his own. Shaking off the discomfiting feelings, Isabel stood up from the table and crossed her arms with resolve.
“Very well, I’ll ask Alex this time. Anything to breach these walls. It’s been so long since I’ve sat upon a horse, I may well have forgotten how. Perhaps we might convince Alex to let us have a wee hunt.”
Margaret clapped her hands like the excited bairn that her willowy delicate beauty so resembled. She seemed young, even though she was older than Isabel by some five years. “I should love to hunt, but…” Her expression fell, her elfin face suddenly devoid of its endearing childish glee. “I don’t know how I ever shall learn with—”
Isabel threw her a withering stare that stopped her cold. She pursed her lips tightly and lifted an eyebrow in mock surprise. Margaret got the message and laughed, the happiness returning in an instant.
“Very well, Isabel, I know. You are no better than Bessie, that old taskmaster. Of course I should love to learn to hunt. It will surely not hurt to try.”
Isabel gave her a fond hug. She was pleasantly surprised by the pronounced changes in Margaret. Nearly every vestige of shame over her injury had disappeared. The transformation was so dramatic that even the household servants had commented to Isabel on the difference. Perhaps they gave her some credit for the improvement, as their friendliness had increased noticeably over the last few weeks. Isabel had a plan where Margaret was concerned, but it would take some time yet. “Never underestimate yourself, Margaret. You’ll be surprised what you can accomplish once you set your mind to a task. And by the by, Bessie thinks herself a lambkin—as do I!”
Both girls looked at each other and burst into hearty peals of laughter.
Margaret recovered first. “I don’t know why I’m laughing, Bessie has been fussing over me just as much as you lately. We’ll have to think of something to distract her. I’ve seen the way Robert watches her of late. Maybe we shall dissuade her hovering with romance.”
Shocked, Isabel’s eyes grew round. “The porter Robert and Bessie! I hadn’t noticed any particular regard from him toward her.” Her fingers stroked her chin. “But now that you mention it, he is very solicitous and helpful. And he has seemed to be hanging about more often of late. I did not realize…I doubt even Bessie has realized.” She dropped her hands to her hips. “You are a sly one, Margaret MacLeod, seeing what others do not.”
Margaret grinned. “Maybe the loss of the sight in my right eye has forced my left eye to work stronger. I do seem to observe more now than I did before. In fact, most of my senses seem sharper since the accident.”
Margaret looked as though she wanted to say something more. “What is it?” Isabel asked.
“Nothing, I was just thinking how refreshing it is that you do not censor your language by avoiding all reference to sight. You would never believe how awkward it can be. Before you arrived, I never spoke of the accident.” She took Isabel’s hands. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
