Chapter Five

After slamming the door, Isobel stomped into the chamber she now shared with Grant. Had the arse intentionally accused her of murder in front of his whole clan? Why had he not talked to her about it? And why did he think her capable of murdering an innocent man?

Contemplating escape again, she strode over to the window and looked out over the choppy waters being beaten by high winds and a storm that had moved in this afternoon. After their kiss.

She’d never allowed a man to touch her before. Despite how pleasurable it had been, she now regretted not pushing Grant away. Och, but the gentle way he’d held her had sent tingles through her arm and apparently shut down her good sense.

Her husband didn’t want her here and she didn’t want to be here. If she could convince her family that he’d rejected her, maybe they would let her come home.

Hell, maybe he’d toss her out anyway. She didn’t think her husband capable of murder. Still, she’d been able to sneak a dirk tonight and would hide it under the bedside table.

The kitten pounced from under the bed, attacking the hem of her skirts. Argh, after trying unsuccessfully all afternoon to find a home for it, she’d left it in the kitchens. How had it found its way up here?

“Stop it.” She brought the wee thing up to her cheek. “Ye belong here nae more than I do. At least ye can get away.” She opened the door, then tried to set it outside, but it clung to her gown as if sensing the loneliness of the dark, quiet hall. “Och, I guess ye can stay tonight, but tomorrow ye must go. I am not capable of taking care of ye.”

So he had been married before and considered this his first wife’s bed. Why would a woman she’d never met think her such a horrid person? Her gaze shifted to the other furniture in the room. None of this belonged to her, and her husband didn’t want her here.

Rummaging through a cabinet, she found blankets and laid a couple down on the hard wooden floor in the opposite corner of the room then inspected her work. It would do—it wouldn’t be much different from the ground on her nights with the Resistance.

She moved over to the trunks she hadn’t bothered to unpack and riffled through for a clean shift. She smiled at the small box packed inside, and opening it, found several vials that had been secured within the velvet lining. At least her family had sent her something from home.

She opened one and pulled it up to her nose to inhale the jasmine oil. It had been her childhood maid’s favorite and always reminded her of happy times. A finger to the top of the container, she tilted it then caught a drop and placed one behind each ear. When she’d told Grant she wouldn’t miss anything from home, she’d forgotten about this scent.

The ritual calmed her and gave renewed purpose to her thoughts. She had a duty to protect those she cared for, and she would find a way to do it again.

She replaced the stopper then stood, undressed, and put on the shift. When she sank onto the pallet on the floor, the kitten jumped from the bed. It curled up next to her as she closed her eyes and wondered how to ask her husband if he would let her have a separate room, or better yet, let her leave.

…

“Ye will take her with ye,” The MacDonald laird instructed after dinner when they’d reached his study.

Grant groaned as his father glared at him from behind the big oak desk. He’d hoped to sneak outside for a bit of fresh air before going up to face his wife, but his father insisted on speaking with him in private.

“Why can she no’ stay here? I dinnae want her with me.” His father had to know she would not be the best companion on a journey trying to secure peace in the Highlands.

“’Tis the point. Ye embarrassed yer new bride in front of the whole clan. If it gets back to the MacLeans that ye’ve left her before a week is out and arenae treating her well…” His father left the rest unsaid. “Besides, ’twas an awful thing to do to someone who is an outsider and hasnae had a chance to prove herself.”

“She’s a bloodthirsty savage. I saw her run after a man who had just sliced into her arm.”

“Have ye even given her a chance to explain what happened?”

“Nae, I saw it with my own eyes.” Grant fisted his hands.

“She deserves the opportunity to explain, and she deserves a husband who will give her that chance. She’s only been here a day and ye’ve already shunned her in front of everyone. If ye are going to lead the clan one day, ye will need heirs and ye will need to put on a unified front.”

“I dinnae think we want her to prove what she is capable of.” That earned a snort from his father.

“If ye are set on trying to broker peace, ye will take her. It will give ye two the opportunity to ken each other and prove to the clan ye can work together when necessary.”

For the first time ever, Grant dreaded the obligation to his clan, but his father was correct. He did need to find common ground with Isobel. He wanted to see past her rugged exterior, and perhaps the forced closeness on this trip would be better than avoiding her. He’d already discovered she had a nurturing side with the cat, even though she attempted to hide it.

“Besides, the other Highland lairds are all sending representatives, and it is important to show them that we have made this treaty with the MacLeans,” his father continued.

He had to admit dressing Isobel like a lady and putting her in the role of a dutiful wife would alleviate any suspicion thrown her way. He’d caught her trailing her finger reverently across the silk of her gown yesterday. Perhaps the garments would grow on her. He would just have to keep weapons out of her hands.

“Ye should be ready to leave by the end of the week. And ye’ll travel faster if ye take a smaller party. Be vigilant, though. Argyll’s men are everywhere.”

“Aye, I ken the dangers.” Grant swallowed.

With a nod, he turned and strolled from the room, making his way to the kitchen instead of the chamber where his wife would be. There, in the empty room, he poured himself a glass of whisky and fought the emotions swirling inside.

He tried to push away the memory of the kiss they had shared this afternoon. The contradiction that was Isobel. Was she an innocent like her kiss and body had proclaimed, or was she a killer like his eyes had seen?

His groin tightened as he remembered the taste of her. But how could he be so disloyal to his first wife, sleeping with the woman who had been the cause of her brother’s death? Claiming his husbandly rights would betray the memory of his friend.

But he also had a duty to his clan. He poured one more dram, downed it, and made his way up to the bed where his new wife would be.

When he pushed open the door, he was surprised to see she had left a candle burning for him on the nightstand. In the light of it, he plodded over to the bed, but she wasn’t there. Panic hit him first, worry that something had happened to her. Then it struck him that she may have had the audacity to try to leave Skye. But before he rushed out to look for her, he saw a bundle in the far end of the room.

He picked up the candle and walked over to make sure she was there. She looked peaceful, her hair spread behind her like wings that might carry her away. His gaze drifted down to the darkened circle on her neck, the one he’d put there.

A shot of desire surged in him and he froze then shook his head at the little gray lump by Isobel’s belly. The wee kitten was curled up next to her, and the lass actually looked innocent and harmless.

Dreading tomorrow and the rest of his nights spent tied to this woman, he ground his teeth. Damn, he might not like her, but she was his wife and he wouldn’t have her sleep on the floor like a dog. He strolled back to the bed and put down the candle then pulled back the covers enough so she would fit. Satisfied, he gathered her and the small creature up in his arms and carried them back to the bed.

Undressing, he blew out the candle and crawled under the covers. The scent that was only Isobel reached his nose and made him want to pull her near so he could inhale her sweetness. But doing so would reawaken his desire to plunge into her, so he turned his back and tried to sleep.

He tossed all night, one minute wanting Isobel, the next wanting to heave her into the sea. How was he to survive this marriage with his sanity intact?