Page 41 of Claimed by the Clan Chief

The ill wish, damn it.

She took a bite of pie and dipped her head. Her new husband would not be pleased if he knew she’d cursed Rabbie Finlay. She didn’t even need to ask him to know he’d be displeased. It would likely earn her a first spanking.

But he never needed to ken, did he. It was done now, and done before he’d placed a ring on her finger. She wouldn’t give it another thought.

Chapter Eleven

Isla wrung her hands together as McTavish’s horse crested the horizon. She could barely stand the desolation she felt at seeing him leave Fifths Castle with several of his men. They were headed for Edinburgh as planned.

They’d only just found each other. Only just had their union blessed by a passing priest—in a quiet ceremony—and now he was gone.

‘It’s only for a few days, then we will never be apart again, my love.’

His whispered words came back to her. He’d gone on to explain his meeting with a sympathetic English duke could become dangerous and he didn’t want to put Isla at any risk. There would be times like that going forward. Although he intended to take her with him on his travels occasionally, she would be required to keep her head low and safe. The future was uncertain in these troubled times.

The horses finally went entirely from view.

Turning to the drawbridge, Isla pressed her hands to her belly wondering if a child were growing already. She’d taken McTavish’s seed inside her body four more times since they’d been at the glen. It was perfectly possibly Mother Nature had done her work.

Mrs. Humphrey, Diane, and Una all knew about her marriage to McTavish, as did the laird. But until her husband returned she’d insisted on working as normal.

McTavish had started to argue but when she’d pointed out the other maids would work their fingers to the bone while she sat with her feet up, he’d permitted her to continue. On the provision she didn’t empty chamber pots; he wouldn’t have his wife doing that. She was to remember who she was married to and that when they eventually returned to his home she’d be a lady with a staff of her own.

Diane and Una were busy cleaning the suite the laird’s nephew and his new wife used, so Isla began helping Mrs. Humphrey with the dough making. Once that was done she moved on to collecting eggs with the cats around her ankles and then chopped onions for the broth being made for that night’s dinner. There were fewer people in the castle with McTavish and his men away on rebellion business.

He might not be in sight but he’s with me.

She turned the ring that sat on her finger and couldn’t suppress a smile as his face came to her mind’s eye. She was so lucky. So in love. Nothing could spoil her mood, not even the onions that insisted on making her eyes water.

“Where is she?”

Isla looked at the kitchen door and then at Mrs. Humphrey. “Who’s that?”

“I don’t ken.” Mrs. Humphrey wiped flour from her hands.

“Where is she? Where is the witch?” The deep booming voice was getting closer. “Let me at her.”

“Aye, get her!”

“She must be here.”

There was a loud stomp of feet on the hard hallway floor—more than one person’s footfall.

A sudden wave of nausea attacked Isla. Bile bit at her gullet. Her sixth sense told her this was not good. It was as if a heavy blanket had suddenly been wrapped around her shoulders. Her chest tightened and a tremble attacked her legs.

“Where is the witch? I ken she’s here.”

A huge figure invaded the doorframe, his wide shoulders filling it and his rotund belly only half covered by his wrongly buttoned shirt. He had a thick black beard and wild hair. His cheeks were red and rugged and his boots heavy with dirt.

In his hand he held a collection of sticks, feathers, parsley, and a round brass pocket watch.

Isla clutched her belly, fearing the contents of her lunch would appear.

Rabbie Finlay had found the ill wish.

“There she is.” He strode into the kitchen with his attention set firmly on Isla.

Isla gasped and took a step backward.

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