She turned in Constantine’s direction and ran into his arms. “I wasna sure…”
“Aye, that is thanks to all the ale inside yer belly. It’s gone to yer head.” With that, he ran his palm over her head as if she were his favored dog. “Come, now, hold onto me.”
He slipped his arm around her waist and dragged her close beside him. She held onto him when he led them to the others, then, into his saddle. She was happy she could not see the men’s faces, staring knowingly at her as their Lochiel mounted behind her. Did they dislike her because their untouchable Lochiel suddenly seemed…touchable?
He didn’t seem to be bothered by his cousins, if he could see them. Pulling her closer, he flicked the reins of his horse and left for the castle.
She felt queasy being jostled around in the saddle, but she managed to keep her belly quiet.
Though it was past the evening meal, she was not hungry and let Constantine help her to her chambers when they returned to the castle.
She dreamed that he tucked her into her bed and spoke in his low, seductive voice, something she couldn’t remember. She dreamed of other things, like swimming with him, laughing with him, and best of all, kissing him.
Morning came too soon and brought with it the stark ugly truth of day. Constantine would be leaving for battle with the MacKintoshes—and whomever else from the Chattan would help them.
She ate with Hilary and Joan in the Great Hall. None of the men were there. They all rode with Constantine to Achnacarry to scout out the territory before the fight. Hilary wept at the possibility of one or both of her brothers not being here for her wedding. Joan admitted she loved Lachlan and if he perished on the field she could not live another day.
Ismay had lived through terrible loss before. It was a good thing she hadn’t allowed herself to feel anything more for him than a growing fondness in her heart. She didn’t love him. Yet, the thought of him dead brought tears to her eyes and felt like a cold spear through her heart.
She didn’t see him all day. She spent most of her hours alone, preferring it that way over spending hours weeping or listening to others weep. She sat beyond the tree line at the loch and remembered his gaze on her while she swam and drying off wrapped in his plaid, warm and safe in his strong arms.
She smiled thinking of how he was single-handedly changing her opinion of chiefs. But was it enough to stay here? When he returned from battle—and he would—would he still care for her. Would it ever be enough to pull him from the arms of a ghost?
If it was, what would he do when he found out the truth about her?
She rubbed her belly and moved to stand. Hugh suddenly was there, blocking her way back.
“Are ye worried fer him, or are ye feeling ill, lass?” Hugh asked with sincere concern shaping his features.
“What are ye doing here, Hugh?” she asked, taking a step to the left and clearing her path, but not going forward.
“I saw ye from the battlements, where I stood watching fer any signs of the Lochiel,” he told her.
“And ye followed me because…?”
“Ye shouldna go beyond the gate. It isna safe out in the open.”
She realized he was right. Even Constantine had brought Lachlan to help him protect her while she swam.
Repentant, she hung her head. “I was just about to return.”
“A wise decision,” he said, then stepped completely out of her path. “Let me escort ye back.”
She nodded, then lifted her head again to offer hima smile. She guessed Hugh wasn’t so bad. He questioned his chief, but some men did, even if just in their hearts. Constantine did not throw him out or have him killed for his opinions. She would put them aside too.
“Ye said ye were watching fer the Lochiel’s return,” she reminded him. “Is there a reason—”
“He has guests waiting fer his return. I sought to warn him.”
She stopped and looked up at him. “Warn him of his guests’ arrival? Why?” she added when he nodded his head. “Who are they?”
“His wife’s parents.”
Ismay swallowed. The knot in her belly tightened.His wife…why did hearing those words prick and slice her as if she’d just fallen into shards of glass?
“Why have they come?” she asked with hesitance softening her tone.
“Most likely to remind him that he hadna loved their daughter enough and whatever other things they usually throw at him.”
