Before long, talk turned to how things had gone poorly for the clan since she left. It was nothing more than the usual complaints. Most would have happened with her here, but with Orlaith gone as well, there was no one to even pretend to take care of the clan.
She listened with growing surprise. Her people did see her worth, or they saw her skill with medicines. And one by one, they were letting her know they valued her. And she never would have realized that if it hadn’t been for Reuben telling her exactly that.
By mid-afternoon, she began to feel happy and appreciated, feelings that were so rare in her earlier life.
Which was why it was no surprise when her uncle rode up, resplendent on his white stallion, to destroy her every good feeling.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Her uncle wascleanshaven, and his white teeth gleamed in the sun as he dismounted with all appearance of good will. He practically oozed charm and he made Iseabail’s skin crawl.
“Iseabail, I’ve been worried sick. Where have ye been? Never mind that, come here. Let me give ye a kiss. How grown up ye look.”
His voice was warm, his expression everything a doting uncle’s should be. But Iseabail knew the truth behind that smile, and she refused to be pulled in by it. She stood her ground and gave him the barest inclination of her head.
“Uncle.”
“Ach, it’s like that, is it?” His brogue was thick, and she prayed that Reuben could understand the man’s words. More, she prayed he wasn’t fooled by her uncle’s pretend concern. But then, of course he would be. Everyone was. Everyone, that was, except her mother who was long gone.
Rather than greet him, she turned and gestured Reuben forward. “Uncle, I have great news. I’ve come back with my husband, Reuben Bates. We were married by the Archbishop of Canterbury himself.”
“Ach lass, but that’s a terrible thing to lie like that. Yer neither titled nor wealthy, and we all know the archbishop won’t be marrying any mister to his missus. He’s fer the titled folk.”
Reuben smiled and put a reassuring arm around her. It was all she could do to not sink deep into his embrace.
“He’s a priest for all souls,” Reuben said. “Isn’t that what the church says? And I’ve a great many friends. Enough, it seems, to get his help to wed my true love.”
Reuben lifted her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. It was a sweet gesture, but overdone. She doubted anyone would believe he was overcome by love for her. And yet, she could feel the heat of her blush at the way he looked at her. As if she were the woman he’d been looking for his entire life. And she couldn’t stop her blood from rising at the thought.
If only it were true.
“Ach, but she’s lied to you, sir. Lied to you and to the archbishop, then. She’s already wed and no true lass.”
“Not a lass anymore,” Reuben countered smoothly. “But I swear she was pure on our wedding night. And a good woman she is.” He looked at her uncle with a demeanor that seemed amused. As if this whole thing were a huge joke, and yet, she knew from experience that her uncle could turn ugly fast.
“She was wed to Hamish, likely before you ever met. He’s got her dowry and the right of her, no matter what slut-filled tales she’s told you.” Her uncle shook her head. “It’s her witchy blood come through, that’s fer sure.”
Anger burned hot through her. “I have not married Hamish! Nor would I ever!”
“Yer wishes are not my concern, girl. Hamish is the man for you. He wed yer token before the priest and the whole clan. He’ll tame yer dark ways.”
“What token?” she scoffed as she pulled her necklace out of her bodice. “This one? The one I’ve been wearing since I left two months ago?”
Her uncle groaned as he looked on her with clear pity. “An’ how much did you pay to make a new bauble in London? ’Tis the witch in you, I’m sure, that drives you to such lies.”
Damn it, she’d forgotten what it was like to have her every word questioned, her every thought painted in the worst possible light. Two months surrounded by people who believed what she said had changed her. It had reminded her that she wasn’t crazy, and it was her uncle who was wrong.
“Lies?” she taunted. “Shall we talk about lies, Uncle?”
She drew in a full breath, unable to prevent the hesitation. This was a mad plan, but Reuben swore it would work. Of all the accusations she could lay at her uncle’s feet, this seemed the silliest, but Reuben had been adamant, and she put her faith in him.
“Do you know,” she said the clan at large, “I would have married Fergus had he asked, but you told me he was too old for me, and then he fell in love with Talia.” To the side, Fergus dipped his chin in acknowledgement. So she went on. “I would have given my hand to Ciaran, as well, but you said he had unnatural appetites—”
Ciaran jolted in shock. “That’s a lie!”
“I don’t even know what you meant by that, but it kept me away from him. And then there was Ashton. Sweet Ashton who brought me oat cakes and asked me to dance. You told me he had a man’s disease, and I should not breathe the same air as he.”
Ashton stood up from where he was leaning against the barn. His face was tight with fury. “I’ve no illness,” he declared.
