Chapter Four

Isabel lay in a field of wheat. The warm sun touched her skin and gentle hands kneaded her back. The muscles along her spine relaxed. Fingers brushed the sides of her breasts and she groaned with pleasure.

“Isabel,” a distant voice whispered. The hands continued to rub, hands that excited and relaxed at the same time.

“Isabel, open your eyes.”

“No,” she sighed.

She did not want to wake because then those magical hands would be gone. This was an enchanted dream, and she didn’t want it to end. Lips brushed the hollow where her neck met her collarbone. She moaned.

“Do you like that?”

“Hmm,” she replied but still did not open her eyes. She enjoyed the sensations that raged through her body and the warmth of his hands on her, Duncan’s hands. She should be distressed that a man was touching her, but this was just a dream.

Duncan. Pictures of him swirled through her mind. He was beautiful, but more than that, he had looked after her. No one outside of her immediate family had ever cared for her, or even noticed her, with him it was different. He noticed. He protected her, cared for her. He made her feel desirable.

She turned her head toward his, and he rewarded her with a kiss that was more an onslaught than an embrace. His mouth pressed against hers and his tongue plunged between her lips filling her with his taste, his sweet flavour. It gave her the sensation of merging, of becoming part of him. He continued his sweet, sensual torment deepening their embrace even further. She moaned. His hand moved from her back to caress her breast, circling her nipple with his thumb.

“Good morning,” he growled.

She opened her eyes and was horrified to find his body entwined with hers, his hand on her breast. Stiffening her spine, she tried to retreat, but lost her balance, tumbled out of the haystack, and landed on her behind. Scrambling to her feet, she backed away, her face flushed with shame.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. Had she really let him touch her naked body? Oh God, yes she had, and she had enjoyed it.

“I take it, you’re not happy with our night together?”

She turned her head too ashamed to face him.

“Look at me,” he said as he climbed out of the straw and came to stand in front of her.

“You’re….You’re….” She was transfixed by the sight of him. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. He was magnificent. Muscles stretched the skin of his shoulders and chest, leading down to a flat stomach. Then her eyes fell on his erection. The sight of it held her spellbound. She had never seen a naked man before. Oh, she had heard the servants talking, but nothing had prepared her for sight of Duncan. Naked. Finally, she managed to look at his face. He grinned.

“I like how you look first thing in the morning.” Mist rose from his mouth with every breath he took.

“Y-Y-You need to put some clothes on.”

“Aye, so do you.”

She looked down and only then realized she was naked too. With a yelp, she ran to the clothes and grabbed her linen shirt.

“I can’t believe I let you ruin me.” She struggled with the garment.

“I didn’t ruin you. I saved you.” He walked over to her, took her shirt from her hands, and placed it over her head.

“What?”

“You don’t have to become a nun, you—”

“You made me your whore?”

“Nothing happened. I never touched you. Well, yes I touched you but not… I won’t force myself upon you. I’m not going to dishonour you. We have a handfast marriage.” He placed her tunic in her arms. She did not move.

“A what?”

“A handfast marriage, we have an agreement between us. When we reach my home, we will have a priest bless the union.”

“Agreement? When did I agree to anything?”

“At the riverbank. You promised to stay.”

Could that be possible? How could she have agreed to marriage without her knowledge? She shook her head in denial.

“That was just until we got to your home, not forever.”

“I did not say forever, did I? I said until we reach my home.” He took the tunic from her hands and placed it over her head. She started to feel much more confident now she had the protection of clothing.

“That is not going to happen. You will not touch me again. Do I make myself clear?”

“You cannot deny the attraction between us. It is perfectly natural for us to want—”

“I can’t believe I was so weak willed, so…so…” Tears burned her eyes.

Duncan grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.

“I know a lot has happened to you, but you can trust me. I do not want to destroy your reputation. I understand why you are dressed so provocatively. All I ask is that you consider a life with me, as my wife. Don’t you want children?”

She wanted all those things. She wanted him. She wanted him to touch her, to feel those wonderful hands on her skin and the sensation of his body against hers and know it was right and proper because she was his wife. But none of those things could happen because he did not support the king and she had to deliver a letter. She had given her word.

“But I can’t, I have to go to Iona.” She sobbed. She didn’t know why she was crying. She never cried. Maybe she was still tired and hungry, or perhaps it was because she was so confused.

He stood in front of her with his hands on his hips. “Did you really want to become a nun that badly?”

“It’s not that. I have to go to Iona. I promised.”

He stared at her for a moment then donned his shirt, plaid, and boots.

“We will discuss this later when you are feeling better. Why don’t we finish dressing, and you can tell me how you came to be travelling alone.”

She was grateful for the change in subject, and so wiping the back of her hand across her wet eyes she said, “My guardian is Bishop Lamberton of St. Andrews in Fife.”

“Do you mean the same Bishop Lamberton who is advisor to the King?”

“Yes.”

“The one who is being held prisoner by the English?”

“Yes, the same. Can I continue or are you going to keep interrupting?”

“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly.

“A group of monks came to see me at St. Andrews. They had a message from the bishop that had been smuggled out of prison.”

“What did it say?”

“I was instructed to travel to the Island of Iona where for safety’s sake, I was to take the oath and become a nun.”

“Safety’s sake?” He ground his teeth as he said the words but said nothing more as he grabbed the old plaid, and using his dagger, cut long strips from the cloth.

“I told you my brother is one of the Bruce’s companions. The bishop did not want me falling into English hands like Robert’s family.”

“Aye, I can see the sense behind that. For the Bruce to have all his women held hostage by the English makes him vulnerable. You don’t seem meek. Why did you agree to take the oath?”

“I have very little choice. I’m not comely, and I don’t have a dowry. No man has asked for my hand in marriage. I cannot dishonour my family by refusing.”

“And you would never consider marrying beneath you? Sit down on the hay, I want to wrap your feet.”

Isabel did as he instructed. “Oh, of course I would, but what man would have me? I can’t cook or work a loom. In fact I have no useful skills. I have lived off the bishop’s charity since my father died. I tried to make myself useful. I collected herbs for the healer, cared for the children while their mothers worked, but most of the time I did embroidery or read the Bible. So you can see it makes sense for me to become a nun.”

“You’d make a terrible nun.”

“What a mean thing to say. Why do you think that?”

“You’re a good fighter.”

“My family has been at war with the English since before I was born. They killed my father and took our home. My brother taught me how to throw a punch, kick, and use a dagger. He made sure I could defend myself. I fight because I have to not because I want to. Besides, I’ve never killed anyone.”

“I noticed and I didn’t say there was anything wrong with a woman being able to protect herself. It’s just not something you expect from a nun. In my clan women who can fight are considered valuable.”

She didn’t know what to say. No one had ever considered her useful in any way. For as long as she could remember, she had been a woman without a purpose. She had lived in a small room near St. Andrews and tried to be helpful to those around her. Her presence had been tolerated out of respect for her dead father. She had no gifts to offer and no abilities to prove her worth. Delivering the letter to the king was her chance to make a difference. She had to go to Iona.

“Are there any other objections to my choice?”

“Actually there are. I have not heard you pray once, not when we were in the dungeon, not when we were hunted, not even when we washed up on the riverbank. You didn’t even call God’s name when you cried out in pleasure.”

Her cheeks burned at that last remark, and she glared at him for having the rudeness to remind her of her weakness.

“But most of all, you will not become a nun because I will not allow it.”

“It is not for you to say. I have known you for less than two days. You cannot come into my life and take over.”

“We could be happy together. Why would you throw that away?”

“I don’t understand why you insist on pursuing me. Once you reach your home and compare me to other women, you will see your error and change your mind.”

He finished wrapping one foot and started on the other. First he inspected it, checking the sole thoroughly, and then he held her foot between his hands.

“Why are you doing that?” she said, uncomfortable with the emotions his touch conjured.

“I’m warming your foot before I cover it. I did the same with the first one, didn’t you notice?”

She shook her head. She had been so busy arguing with him that she had not noticed how he cared for her. He said and did the most outrageous things, things that infuriated her. When she first met him, he had seemed so vulgar and now here he was caring for her with such tenderness. She wished things were different, wished she were beautiful, wished she possessed the skills to be a good wife. Most of all she wished he supported her cause.

He finished with her feet, took what was left of the plaid, and placed it around her head and shoulders, forming the fabric into a hood.

“This will help you stay warm” he said once he was done. While he turned his attention to retrieving his sword and dagger, Isabel felt her tunic for the letter and breathed a sigh of relief when her fingers touched its outline. Duncan walked to the door and peered out.

“It’s time to go,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. It was just a small peck and yet she yearned for more. But he was serious now, his somber eyes combing their surroundings, and she fell in behind him.

“We’re still in MacDougall territory, so stay close behind me and be quiet. And, for God’s sake, yell if you get into trouble.

Before she had a chance to ask how she was supposed to be quiet and yell at the same time, he left the hut and started running.