Page 45 of Bound to a Highland Beast
A soft gasp escaped Isabeau, one she couldn’t suppress. It was the first time Tiernan had spoken that word, the first time either of them had openly acknowledged their feelings like this. Tears of happiness stung her eyes, but she blinked them away before they could fall. The enormity of Tiernan’s admission stunned her, rendering her speechless for so long that Tiernan opened his eyes and pulled back from her a little, as though he feared he had said too much.
Isabeau was quick to pull him into another kiss, only to feel him trembling in her arms. It scared him, this truth; she could tell. But it also scared her, the knowledge that they both loved each other dearly but so many circumstances threatened to tear them apart. It wasn’t only Beag and Constantine, the threat of harm and death. Those were only the immediate fears, the ones that had to be at the front of their minds. But there were other threats, too—threats that they would have to face if they managed to get out of this alive.
As much as Isabeau insisted her brothers would listen to her, she didn’t know if that would be true for the council, as well. Would they ever allow her to wed a man beneath her station? Would her brothers, protective as they were, accept Tiernan? They were good, kind men, but even for them, presenting Tiernan as her betrothed would be a shock from which they might not recover.
But that was a worry for another day. For now, they had to focus on what was right ahead of them—the plan to kill Constantine and get Beag off their backs.
“Whatever happens, we’ll face it together,” Isabeau promised him. “Let me write tae me brothers. I ken they can help.”
Tiernan nodded, if a little reluctantly. “Alright,” he said. “But I fear there truly may be nae time fer them tae come. Constantine suspects, I ken it. He may even ken the truth.”
Isabeau’s blood ran cold at that, but what else was there to do other than persevere?
“Promise me ye’ll stay here when the time comes,” Tiernan said, his hand tightening around hers. “Promise me. I cannae bear the thought o’ somethin’ happenin’ tae ye.”
Isabeau let out a long breath, considering it for a moment. It would be more prudent for her to stay there; safer, not only for her but for Tiernan as well. But she couldn’t bring herself to stay away. No matter what happened, she wanted to be by his side.
“I’m nae leavin’ ye alone,” she said. “Never. We’re in this together.”
She expected him to argue, to try and convince her that this was the best course of action, but after a brief moment of hesitation, Tiernan only nodded, surrendering himself to the fact that no matter what he said, she would never agree to be left behind.
With a deep, steadying breath, Isabeau forced a smile to her lips. Neither she nor Tiernan were in the best of spirits, of course, but if she could alleviate at least some of his concerns and his fear for a short while, then she would do anything to achieve it.
“Come,” she said. “Let us go tae the feast. It will help us take our minds off this.”
Even as she tugged him along, though, Tiernan refused to budge. “I dinnae ken if that’s a good idea. I dinnae feel like seein’ all those people.”
“Trust me,” Isabeau insisted. “It will help. We can have some food an’ some wine an’ ye’ll feel much, much better. Besides, I’ve never been tae such a feast. It would make me feel so… normal.”
She didn’t know if it was her insistence or the promise of wine that finally got Tiernan moving, but soon, the two of them were back outside, joining the peasants in their feast. It truly was unlike anything else Isabeau had experienced; all the feasts had ever been to were at the castle, far away from villages and the peasants’ customs. There was something carefree about the way they all talked and danced and sang here, in this small village, like they were all good friends. The feasts back home always had an air of formality about them, Isabeau and her brothers sitting at the head table in the great hall and barely participating in what she believed was the true spirit of a feast. She was never allowed much wine; she was never allowed to dance unless it was with someone the council and her brothers had already approved or if her partner was a female friend—the daughter of a general, a visiting noble girl, anyone but a man.
Here, she was free to do as she pleased, and she looked around with wide eyes, trying to take everything in. The bonfire still burned bright, but not the rest of the square and the side streets were also lit, glowing under the light of lanterns. The music was even more joyous now, a band of musicians playing merrily as the people danced. The scent of roasted meat and mulled wine was sweet in the air, and even the nipping cold didn’t bother Isabeau, though her fingers had begun to tingle with it.
Looking around, she spotted a cart where a stocky man sold mulled wine and she thought that was the best way for her and Tiernan to warm up, so she turned to him, giving him her most charming smile.
“Shall we have some?” she asked, nodding her head towards the cart. “I’m so, so cold, Tiernan… I dinnae ken how I will take it fer even one more minute.”
Tiernan rolled his eyes at her antics, but Isabeau saw the small smile that played in the corners of his lips. That was all she needed. Even if what it took to raise his spirits was a bit of clowning, she was willing to do it.
“Fine,” he said. “Stay here.”
Isabeau watched Tiernan as he wove his way through the crowd and then dragged her gaze over to the dancing villagers. They all looked so happy, with reddened cheeks and huge smiles on their faces, and Isabeau didn’t know how they could do it. From the little she had seen of their lives, they were far from easy. And yet,they still managed to find the beauty in the small things, letting go even if it was for one night.
Until then, she hadn’t realized how truly lucky she was to have been born the daughter of a laird. But her blessing was also a curse. Sometimes she thought a simple life would be better than what she had.
Safer, at least.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she caught a movement and turned to see what seemed to her at first like a shadow but was, in fact, a man cloaked in black, wearing an odd black cloth mask that covered most of his face. There was no doubt in her mind regarding his identity, though; there was only one man she knew who moved so distinctly, deliberately and confidently, as though he owned the entire space around him.
Constantine? What is he doin’ here?
Perhaps Tiernan was right, Isabeau thought, and he had come there to kill them. Perhaps right as he was approaching her, he had a knife in his hand, ready to attack her.
But when he came close, Isabel freezing where she stood, he was only holding a bottle of wine in his hand. His smile, the only thing Isabeau could see under the mask, was more like a baring of teeth.
“Good evenin’,” Constantine told her. “Are ye enjoyin’ yerself?”
Isabeau swallowed in a dry throat. “Aye,” she managed to say, though it sounded weak.
