Page 3 of When a Highlander Loses His Heart
He shoved branches out of his way as he walked, but one snapped back too quickly for him to duck and it sliced his cheek. The instant warmth of blood trickled down his icy skin, the contrast of hot and cold making him grit his teeth. Ignoring the sting of the cut, he wiped the blood away with the back of his hand and kept moving toward the embankment where they would scale the fortress wall into the castle courtyard. He had learned a long time ago that pain, whether to the heart or the body, could be harnessed—sometimes even conquered—with a strong enough will.
His will was as deep as the ocean, and its current flowed only toward revenge. Coming to the embankment, he stared up at the looming castle. His heart began to pound as his blood rushed through his veins, sending painful pricks of anticipation to every part of his body.
Suddenly, a woman’s scream split the silent night.“Ban-druidh, ban-druidh!”
The wordwitchrang loud and clear. The signal had been given. It was time to pilfer the prize he had promised his brothers and his king.
Isobel could do no more than stand there stupefied as Marsaili screeched at the top of her lungs.
“Ban-druidh, ban-druidh, ban-druidh!”she cried while pointing at Isobel.
Isobel stared in shock and horror as Jean slapped Marsaili across the face, but it did not stop the woman’s screams.
Her face red with fury, Jean motioned to two men standing guard at the door. “Take her from the chapel!” Jean snapped, one hand gripping Marsaili’s arm so tight that Jean’s fingers became white. Her stepmother looked to the priest and barked, “Marry them!”
Fear propelled Isobel to scramble backward, but she ran into someone. Glancing over her shoulder, a wave of dismay filled her at the sight of Jamie MacLeod. He shoved her forward so violently that she nearly fell to her knees, only catching herself with a hand to the wall.
“Ye heard yer mistress, Father. Marry me to the wench right now,” he said, moving directly behind her as if to block her from fleeing, which she intended to do as soon as she could determine how.
“But if she be a witch—” the priest started, the rest of his sentence drowned out by Marsaili’s wailing.
Lord MacLeod pushed by Isobel as he strode toward the priest, whose eyes went round as he cowered. At that exact moment, the guards dragged Marsaili past Isobel, but the woman grasped onto Isobel’s arm and began to drag Isobel with her. As Isobel worked to free herself from the painful grip of her half sister, who was now kicking one guard and clawing at the other—all while still managing to hold onto Isobel and move them toward the door—more shouting came from behind her.
“Ye will marry us!” Lord MacLeod boomed.
“But, my lord, if the lady be a witch—”
“Ban-druidh, ban-druidh,”Marsaili chanted.
“If ye dunnae shut that loon’s mouth, I’ll kill her,” Lord MacLeod snarled to the guards who gripped Marsaili.
Isobel struggled to block out the noise in the chapel and the noise in her head. She had to think. She had to flee. She didn’t know why Jean was trying to marry her to this man, but he was clearly evil. Her father would never have agreed to such a match, which explained why they were trying to force her into it now, when her father and her brothers were not present.
“Just take them both out!” Jean demanded as the guards struggled to fight off a now spitting, snarling Marsaili while trying to get her to release Isobel. With a hard yank, Isobel found herself jerked outside into the freezing, black night along with Marsaili.
“Ban-druidh, ban-druidh,”Marsaili screamed so loudly it hurt Isobel’s ears.
With a loud bang, the chapel door slammed shut behind them.
Marsaili immediately fell quiet, and one of the guards stomped away only to come back seconds later with a torch that pierced the darkness with a small bit of light. It was just enough that when the guard shone it in Marsaili’s face, Isobel started at what she saw. Marsaili was giving her the sweetest smile.
Then she released Isobel. “Ye’re welcome,” she said, batting one of the guards’ hands away while staring straight at Isobel.
Isobel blinked. “Ye were lying in order to help me?” Isobel whispered, both grateful and astounded.
Marsaili winked at her as she shifted her gaze past the guards and Isobel. “The fit has passed,” she announced. Isobel looked behind her at the wall that surrounded the castle, but she saw nothing abnormal. She had no notion what her half sister was staring at.
When she turned back around, Marsaili dragged her gaze to Isobel and then the guards. “I vow to be verra good. Ye can move away now. I will nae leave.”
The guards exchanged a wary look but nodded and stepped far enough back to give them some solitude, but not so far that they could not easily and quickly take Marsaili in hand again if necessary.
Marsaili stepped closer to Isobel and grabbed her by the hand. “Dunnae fear,” the woman whispered. “Ye’ll nae be marrying that devil Jamie MacLeod this night.”
Relief made Isobel tremble. She squeezed Marsaili’s hand. “I kenned well Father would nae marry me to his greatest enemy,” she replied in hushed tones. Isobel swallowed hard, trying to think how to delicately say the rest of what was in her mind. “Marsaili,” she said gently, “is yer mother…” She paused. How did one ask someone if her mother was evil?Och!There was no good way. With a quick breath, she asked, “Is Jean conspiring with Lord MacLeod?”
Marsaili’s eyes popped wide. “Aye.” She quirked her mouth for a moment, and then said, “Conspiracy blankets everything, Isobel, but nae all of it be born of evil.”
Isobel frowned. “Are ye trying to tell me that more people are conspiring against our father?”
