She gestured to all the men around her, most of whom had found other wives, other women. “Shall I tell them what you said about all of them? The lies you told me—”
“You were too young, Iseabail. I had to tell you something. You were not ready for marriage.” She could see he was aware of the fury building in the men around him. “Come, come,” he said with his arms spread wide. “We will talk about this over dinner, yes? The two of us in the castle.”
As if she would go anywhere with him. “I should like an answer now, Uncle. Where did these men fail that Hamish succeeded? Why did you try to give me to him, of all people? He beat his wife to death. I cleaned her body. I saw what he did. He drinks and does no work. Why did he deserve me when all these good men did not?”
She had never spoken to him this way before. Her mother had, but she had always told Iseabail to keep quiet and to be busy far away from her uncle or his men. Now she stood in the late afternoon sun and faced him as her mother once had.
“I am your only heir,” she said.
“You are a witch—”
“I am a blessing to this clan and to Scotland. Ask any here if this is not true. I have set bones, stitched wounds, and delivered babies. Why was I denied all these good men?”
He was done with her defiance. She could see it in his face. His cheeks had gone ruddy, and his crossed arms dropped such that his big fists planted hard on his hips.
“Verra well, Iseabail, ye forced me to tell the truth. Do ye think Hamish so ill fer you? Well, he’s the only one what wanted ye. A black witch with a black heart. But he’s a good man, he’ll keep ye in line fer sure. And as fer yer Sassenach here, I’ll show ye all what he’s about and why Hamish is the man fer ye.” He clapped his hands loudly as he looked up the road. “Bring em out,” he bellowed.
Everyone turned. Her uncle knew how to create a show, that was for sure, as Hamish appeared with three of his men…and four of Reuben’s men. Every Scot had a Sassenach before him. The English, for all their size and strength, looked beaten and ashamed. Their heads were bowed, and their hands were bound tight before them.
“Hamish caught them,” her uncle called out. “They were coming here to kill the clan. To steal our cattle, rape the women, and destroy everything we have built. Hamish is the one who caught them. Hamish is the one who is fierce enough to defend our land.”
Several of the men openly doubted such a statement, but the evidence was on her uncle’s side. After all, the Sassenach did appear defeated. And then Reuben made it worse. He turned and addressed the crowd.
“It’s true.”
Everyone gasped in shock, even Iseabail.
“Oh, not the raping and pillaging part. We’ve got women and money aplenty in London. We don’t need yours. But I did come with four of my good men. Not my best, mind you, but those that wanted to see Scotland and the fair lasses they had heard about here.” For emphasis, he winked at young Lizzy, who blushed prettily. “I had them sneak around. I needed to see what your defenses were like. Jonathan, what did you find?”
Jonathan looked up. Hamish held a dagger to his throat, but that didn’t seem to bother him as he answered.
“A couple of them chased us right well. It’s their dogs, Reuben. You can hide from a man, but their dogs smell ye clear enough. We couldn’t get anywhere at the first two farms. The ones that belong to them.” He jutted his chin at Murray and Elliott. “But it was right hard getting these clots to see us. We had to start singing like we were drunk and sit our arses down by the main road. They’d missed us twice when we were beside the road.”
“Lies!” cried Hamish as he pressed the dagger against Jonathan’s throat. “We caught ye sneaking about with evil on yer minds.”
There must have been some signal. Or perhaps Jonathan got tired of acting submissive. Iseabail couldn’t tell, but she certainly saw when all four of Reuben’s men—with their hands bound—managed to disarm and free themselves from the Scots. Jonathan appeared to take special pleasure in putting an elbow to Hamish’s face. And when the bastard cursed and tried to attack, Reuban’s man twisted the knife away, banged the hilt into Hamish’s eye, then stood back while the idiot dropped to his knees and whimpered.
Given the great many black eyes he’d given his wife, Iseabail had no sympathy for his pain.
Meanwhile, Jonathan passed the dagger to Reuben, who neatly cut the binds.
“They’re piss-poor fighters,” Jonathan said. “Strong enough, I’ll give you that, but little discipline.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know how they have any whisky left to sell. They drink more than the gin sots.”
Reuben turned to Fergus. “Do you have enemies? Clans who want the land and the market for their own?” He jerked his head at the four men on the ground. “This lot won’t be able to protect you.”
“Aye,” Fergus said grimly. “There’s a few clans that’ll stir up trouble. Especially when word of this gets out.”
Her uncle curled his lip. “Well, it won’t get out, will it? Not a one of ye will talk. It’s yer head and mine that will pay.” He stomped over to Hamish and kicked him in the thigh. “Yer a damned disgrace, you are.” He lifted his head to look at the clan. “Don’t worry none about it. I’ll see to their punishment and their training myself.”
Iseabail laughed, the sound loud and mocking, just as her mother used to do. “But you have been seeing to them, Uncle. You’ve had control of the men ever since my father died.” She pointed to where they sat on the ground. “This is the result.”
Her uncle shook his head as if sorely betrayed. “I trusted Hamish. It was my love for him that had me believe him so long. It’s brought me low, it has.” A king devastated because he loved too dearly. It was a lie, but he was a fine actor. All around him, the men shuffled their feet awkwardly. The women mostly kept their heads down. In private, they would scoff at her uncle’s antics, but the core of the clan—the men—would hesitate to go against one of their own.
Which meant she had to remind them. “And this is the man who is better than Fergus and Ciaran and Ashton? What about Rudi, who you said is not a man at all.”
Rudi’s head shot up. “What?”
“Lying bitch!” her uncle bellowed.
