Page 36 of Taken By her Highland Enemy

She closed her eyes. They had nowhere else to go. This was the end of the fight. Sean stood at the front of the gate next to Eamon and called out as loud as he could muster. “Ye shall have me, Lord Cutler. The Scots ye cannae have. For those with whom I ride are nae Scots! The Scots have disbanded long ago. I dinnae know where they reside!”

Isabelle looked at Arya with confusion. What is Sean doing? As Sean moved forward, Isabelle could see Eamon pull on his arm, shaking his head. Sean pulled away, said something to his brother, and the small door next to the gate was opened, and Sean slipped through. Isabelle stood back, surprised. Her heart raced. Was that it? Surely not. She could hear her father’s laugh of victory as Sean exited the door and Eamon’s cry of defeat.

As the horses’ hooves began to sound in retreat, she heard her father yell, “Fire!” and she looked up to see arrows flying through the air, lit at the tips, and staying aloft for a moment before raining down upon the village to the cry of the people inside. “No!” she screamed, and as everyone went into a frenzy, attempting to put the flames out, Isabelle pushed to the front of the gate.

Arya tried to claw at her mistress, but Isabelle was too quick. This was her chance, and she pushed through Eamon’s men who were standing guard and was nearly hit by a running MacManus man. She couldn’t think about what it meant to leave Eamon. She knew only that she had to go in order to stop her father if she could. Her return could appease him for the moment. Isabelle finally made it to the front gate, but before she pushed through the door to leave, she turned to see Eamon by her side. She took a breath, dreading what would come next.

“Nae, dinnae—” he started but then stopped once she turned around and faced him, dressed in the male garb he had selected. He took a step back from her, and she watched his eyes take her in. Isabelle’s heart broke at his pained expression as he recognized her.

“It was ye, then? All this time?” he asked softly, confused. His eyes were hard, yet questioning, searching her face for the answer.

She wiped a tear that had sprung loose and met his gaze. Eamon: wonderful, kind, generous, fighting, Eamon. He was lost to her now. All of her hopes were gone in but a moment as she stood before him, ready to leave. There was no reason now why she should not tell him the truth.

“Yes, Eamon, it was me,” she whispered before plunging through the door, leaving Eamon and everything she’d hoped for behind. Her heart screamed at her choice, but she moved forward decisively, hoping she could at least save him for now. That was what really mattered. If he would remain alive, and she could help that happen, then that was what she must do.

* * *

Eamon felt like he’d been struck in the heart. There she was, or he was, the spy! How could he have been such a fool? Isabelle had played him well and truly, and he had let it happen. The love he had for the woman was all a charade. Who was she really? He blinked in surprise, quieting the sounds around him.

He forgot where he was for a moment, but a strong bout of yelling brought his attention back. His eyes flickered to the flames that surrounded them. He found Arya’s eyes as his mind came back to attention. “Mr. Wilson,” Arya cried tears in her eyes, coming forward to grasp onto his shoulders. “Are you all right?”

He nodded. “Aye, aye.” He pulled away, angry. “Who is that who just left us? Is it Isabelle? Is it the spy?”

Eamon tried to quell his anger as he saw Arya tremble under his loud voice, chaos surrounding them. “Yes, sir. She is Isabelle, but she is also the spy. She is a determined woman. She wanted to do what she could for the cause. She did not want to deceive you, sir.”

Eamon pulled away, his mind swirling. His brother was gone, and his true love was gone, and now it was all a lie. What was the point of survival anymore? Nothing mattered. “But she did. Was it all a plan? Is she on her father’s side?”

Arya’s eyes widened. “No, no! She wanted to escape her father! She loves you, I know it! And now she has gone and left us.” But Arya’s words were drowned out by the sound around them.

He was about to go through the door himself when Lukas pulled him back again, pushing him roughly against the wall. “What are ye doing, lad? We go! We go after yer brother, and we fight for him!”

Eamon pushed against Lukas, hard. “Why? What does it matter anymore? She is gone. She’s left with him. With them!”

“Who? The lass?”

“Aye! She has left, and now they are both gone tae me forever.”

“Ye bloody idiot! They didnae want tae go, surely. We run after Cutler and his men! We get that wealth, and we kill that English bastard! Forget the lass!”

Eamon tried to escape Lukas’ grasp once again, pushing against his chest. But he felt drunk with his fatigue and his sorrow. He wanted to curl up into a ball and close his eyes to the world. It brought back the memories of when Redcoats rained down upon his family home and began to burn it, killing everyone in sight. His heart had sped to the point where he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Stars had spun in front of his eyes, and all he knew was that he had to leave.

That same feeling took over his body now and drove him to escape through the gate. His heart was broken. He had disappointed his brother and lost the only woman he’d ever loved. What life was there for him now? He tore again towards the gate, and Lukas pulled him back. He could hear him calling the others towards him. When he rose up to fight again, pushing against anyone in his path, he felt something hit the side of his face hard, and he fell back into darkness.

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