Page 14 of In Bed with a Scot

“That would be lovely, but I doubt that Bain would allow it.” She brushed the hair back from Keelin’s face. “Let us get ye bathed afore the evening meal. Ye dinnae want tae be eating road dust with yer bannocks.”

Keelin smiled. “It would nae be the first time.”

Isabelle laughed. “Nae, it would nae be the first time and I very much doubt that it would be the last.”

The two cousins worked together to prepare themselves for the evening meal, assisting each other with their hair and enjoying each other’s company. Isabelle had forgotten what it felt like to have a female friend, let alone family, in her life that she could trust. It felt good to let her guard down and be herself. Keelin had always had a way of bringing out the best in the people around her. It was a quality that Isabelle greatly admired.

When the two of them were ready, they left the bedchamber and descended the stairs to the great hall below. The clan had gathered in honor of Isabelle’s return and Arran had arranged for a welcome home feast that made Isabelle blush with the attention. She and Keelin joined the men on the raised dais. Isabelle was seated between Keelin and Bain. Bain had arranged to be seated next to Arran and had made certain that Isabelle was placed next to him so that he could keep an eye on her. Seeing this, Keelin had sat on the other side of Isabelle, and Madden had sat on the other side of Keelin. Lorcan and the other notable men of the clan were seated on the other side of Arran.

Arran gave Isabelle a look that said he noticed her husband’s control of her, but he said nothing. Standing, her brother addressed the gathered clan. “Our Lady Isabelle has returned tae us at long last! Let us drink a toast tae her long life, health, and happiness! May her enemies crumble at her feet! Tae the Lady Isabelle!” Arran raised his cup in a toast and drained it dry, slamming it down on the table with enthusiasm, giving Bain a warning look as he did so. The message was clear, you mess with me sister and this clan will make ye pay fer it with your life.

“Tae the Lady Isabelle!” The clan raised their cups and drank a toast to their long absent lady.

Keelin gave Isabelle’s hand a squeeze beneath the table where no one would notice. “Tae the Lady Isabelle,” she murmured with feeling, draining her own cup dry.

Isabelle felt overwhelmed by the myriad of emotions that washed over her. From guilt to love, she felt as if she might drown with the intensity of it. She noticed out of all of the people in attendance there were only two among them who did not join in the toast, her husband Bain, which was not a surprise, and the warrior Madden Kinnaird. A chill passed up her spine at the looks she was receiving from her husband. Neither man was pleased with her, each feeling a very different kind of anger towards her, but Madden’s look was more confusion and perhaps even a bit of hurt, whereas Bain’s look held pure rage and jealousy.

When everyone sat back down, the food emerged from the kitchens. The cook had outdone herself. Platters of venison, salmon, and bannocks were accompanied by bowls steaming with potatoes and kale. The clan descended upon the food with gusto. Conversation and laughter filled the air. Isabelle looked out over the Clan MacKay and marveled at the difference. When her father had been the laird, there had never been such plenty. With Arran in charge, his people wanted for nothing. She was proud of what her brother had accomplished.

Seeing the plenty before them, Bain turned his attention to Arran and his quest to seek a loan. Isabelle’s muscle tension eased a bit once his hateful gaze was averted from her. Sighing, she sat back in her seat and closed her eyes for the briefest moment in an effort to fight off the tears that threatened to spill forth. She had known it would not be easy returning home with the cloud of guilt that followed her every step, but she had not anticipated the longing to remain that had overcome her soul.

“Are ye tired, Lady Isabelle? Did ye have a restless night?” Madden’s voice broke into her thoughts, laden with hidden meaning that only the two of them understood.

Isabelle shot him a warning look. “It was a tiresome journey.”

“There is a lovely inn in a village nae far from here that provides a most delightful stay. Dae ye ken it?” he asked, his voice all innocence, his eyes boring into hers.

“Aye, we stayed there last night,” Bain interrupted the conversation answering for her. Isabelle nearly jumped out of her skin. “I would nae go so far as tae say it was delightful.”

“I suppose that would depend upon one’s companions,” Madden replied, his eyes never leaving Isabelle’s face.

“Aye, that would make a difference,” Bain snorted. Isabelle turned to make certain that Bain had not noticed the looks that Madden was giving her, to find her husband looking at her in disappointed disgust. “I preferred the company of the village tavern.” His tone was laden with suggestions as to how he had spent his night.

Isabelle turned to face forward, her cheeks warming in shame. There was no way that those within earshot had not understood the undertones of his meaning. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Madden’s head turn away from her and towards Bain. Isabelle turned to look at him in fear that he might say something incriminating, but instead she found him giving Bain a disapproving look. “With such a bonnie bride, I am surprised that ye have time tae spend at village taverns.”

Isabelle felt the color drain from her cheeks. Keelin was discreetly looking back and forth between Madden and Isabelle with confusion in her eyes.

“Are ye a married man, Kinnaird?” Bain asked, his voice mocking.

“Nay, I am nae,” Madden shook his head.

“Then I dinnae expect ye tae understand. Come back tae me when ye ken what ye speak of,” Bain chastised, gave Isabelle a warning look, then turned his attention back to Arran and his money.

Madden gave Isabelle a look that she could not quite interpret, somewhere between sympathy and pity, but with an edge of disapproval and something else undefinable.

“What is going on with ye?” Keelin spoke softly for Madden’s ears only, but Isabelle was too close not to hear.

Madden shook his head. “Nae enough sleep.”

Keelin frowned at him. “The lass from last night? That is why ye are nae yerself? That is unlike ye. She must have had an even greater impact than I initially thought.”

Isabelle could feel what little remained of the blood in her face drain out completely, then flood back all at once. Her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. Her head spun. He told her about me?!

“She was nae me usual choice,” Madden admitted by way of explanation, but Isabelle knew from his tone what he was talking about. She was married and married women were clearly not his usual fair. “I believe that I would be best served by retiring tae me bed fer the night.”

“Leaving already, Kinnaird?” Arran’s ears had caught this last part of the conversation, his brows raised in question.

“Aye,” Madden nodded. “It was a restless night.”