“Do you know something, Rory? What are you not telling me?” Margaret narrowed her eye threateningly at her much larger brother, looking as though she might attack.
“Patience, Margaret. You always were a demanding little brat.”
“How dare you, Rory MacLeod! Brat, was I? You’ll regret those words.” She pounced on him, beating his arms with her tiny fists where Isabel had left off.
“Margaret, you should not punch the chief. It’s not seemly,” Colin interrupted.
Speak of the devil,Isabel thought. Another booming, proud voice of authority—how many could this castle possibly hold? She smiled at the handsome Viking. Even when he was teasing, Colin frowned forebodingly. Well, Margaret cared for him, and that was all that mattered.
“I was not punching the chief, Colin. I was merely reminding my brother that I am no longer a bairn.”
“Ouch. I’ll try to remember that in the future, Margaret,” Rory said, holding his arm. “You’ve a heavy fist for such a wee lass.”
Isabel turned to Rory, clasping her hands together with excitement. “Before the dancing begins, Margaret and I have one more surprise for this day of celebration. Are you ready, Margaret?”
Margaret glanced at Colin as if she were going to be ill, then drew up her shoulders with forced confidence. “I think so, yes.”
Isabel motioned to Rory, Colin, and Alex, who had just walked up. “You stay right here. We’ll be right back.”
“What are those two up to this time?” Alex asked, confused.
Rory looked at the two men next to him and shook his head. “I can’t even hazard a guess. But we better do as we were told. Margaret looked quite serious. For a moment, I thought she seemed almost frightened.” His gaze fell back to the Fairy Tower, where Isabel and Margaret had just disappeared inside.
Moments later, he was the only one facing them when they alighted from the tower. He blinked in disbelief, then reached up to shield his eyes from the sun. It was not an apparition. His heart stalled. All he could think to say was, “Dear God in heaven. How did she do it?”
“Do what?” Colin and Alex asked in unison before they turned to follow Rory’s gaze.
Three men stood stunned as the women came toward them. Others around them began to realize that something important was happening, and as quick as summer fire, an unnatural silence spread through the crowd.
Silence, before the dam burst and a resounding cheer pierced the air.
With his long stride, Rory reached Margaret first. Tentatively, as if she could not be real, he placed his hand on her cheek. His fingers brushed the now empty place where the monstrous patch had once covered his sister’s injured eye. A thin, star-shaped white scar trailed from the inner corner of her eyelid up to the brow. Although he knew she had lost the vision in her eye, it was impossible to tell from looking at her. Two round sapphire blue eyes sparkled directly into his. His throat tightened as he let the shock filter through his body. Margaret was just as bonny as he remembered. The scar in no way detracted from her beauty. It was barely noticeable.
He turned to Isabel and asked in a voice rough with emotion, “How did you do it?”
“All Margaret needed was a wee bit of encouragement”—she laughed—“and a looking glass. I just convinced her that what was under the patch was not nearly as terrible as what hid it. The rest was up to Margaret.”
Colin descended upon them and ignobly pushed his chief to the side. He reached for Margaret’s hand and raised it to his lips reverently. His gaze locked with hers. “What fairy spell is this? I had never thought…Margaret, you are even more beautiful than I remember you before the accident.” His hushed voice was full of admiration.
He said it with such sincerity that Isabel knew Margaret could not doubt his words. She smiled shyly but proudly. “Thank you, Colin. I assure you there is no fairy magic, but only my stubborn sister to blame. Isabel has badgered me for months to remove the patch and show her the scar. That first step proved the most difficult. I haven’t looked in a mirror for years, so even I was surprised to see how much the scars had faded. ’Tis not nearly as bad as I remember. I must admit, I was very nervous just now to see your reaction. I’ve been wearing that horrible patch for so long.”
Isabel watched with amusement as the corners of Colin’s lips lifted up in what could only be described as a smile.Inconceivable,she thought, nowthereis a true bit of fairy magic.
Alex interrupted to lift Margaret in a great hug, her feet dangling in the air. “I hate to think what this will mean for your archery skills. I fear I have lost my only advantage,” he teased. “As you will not be needing it any longer, perhaps I can borrow your patch and try my luck?”
Margaret leaned her head back and laughed. “Alex MacLeod, you are incorrigible. It is yours, I have need of it no longer.”
Rory was overwhelmed.
He thought Isabel could not surprise him, but she had. He had learned so much these past few months. Not just the feel of her skin melting against his or the erotic sensation of himself rock hard deep inside her; no, he had learned much more. It was not just lust that propelled him to her over and over. He’d been a fool to think once would be enough. With Isabel, a thousand times would not be enough—he should know. He’d come to care for her more than he had ever thought possible, more than he had ever cared for another person.
Over the last few months, Rory had taken pleasure in discovering all the little things that made Isabel unique. He knew that she crinkled one side of her nose when she was displeased, that she twirled her hair when she was anxious, that if she said “as you wish,” he was in trouble. He’d learned that she was truly interested in the business side of the castle, enthusiastically suggesting improvements in efficiency. He’d come to respect her mind, finding pleasure simply in her company.
What was so special about her? Undoubtedly, he was attracted to her beautiful face, but there was so much more. She was kind, charmingly stubborn, quick-witted, and spirited. The vulnerability and loneliness he’d noticed on her arrival had faded.
She made love with such openness and sharing, it humbled him.
Moreover, Isabel had helped him realize that by his unrelenting focus on duty, he’d lost sight of what else was important. His family. Rory’s quest for revenge had the unintentional consequence of prolonging his sister’s shame. And his reluctance to cede control of his duties had prevented Alex from forgiving himself for his losses on the battlefield. He’d begun to delegate more to Alex, and already Rory noticed that Alex seemed to thrive on the responsibility. For the first time since he’d become chief, Rory was beginning to relax.
