Journey to Bongary Spring by Kasey Stockton

Chapter Sixteen

Isobel rested her hand against Teine to steady herself and drew another deep breath, shifting her feet against the damp, muddy earth. Miles’s clear blue eyes slid past her without recognition, and he pushed his loose, sandy-brown hair from his forehead.

She couldn’t believe she was standing across from the man she was going to marry, and he had yet to indicate that she deserved any preferential attention whatsoever. It was almost as though Miles Duncan had forgotten her name.

“Ye’ve naething to fear from us,” Miles said, gesturing to himself and the man behind him. As laird, he clearly had the power to speak for them both, but the other man didn’t appear pleased. “We only seek peace.”

Kieran smiled, though Isobel could see that it was strained. “I’m glad ta hear it. Ye’ll find that we didna seek a fight, either. But the men who fought us were unhappy.” He didn’t continue, and Miles didn’t question him further. The smaller disputes between the clans were old and tired, and it would take a lifetime to heal them all.

“Did ye happen to see the redcoats?”

“Aye,” Hugh said. “But they’re not concerned with clan disputes.”

“Nay, I’m worried about what else they would be concerned with.” Miles smiled to temper his gloomy words and shook his head slightly. “I dinna wish ta keep ye. I’ll look forward to furthering our acquaintance tomorrow.” He looked to each of them, flashing a friendly smile, hesitating a moment longer on Isobel. She would be more troubled by his indifference if he had shown even a speck of recognition upon hearing her name. Unless…had McEwan failed to mention her name when he’d made the arrangement? Miles appeared eager to form friendly relations. Perhaps he hadn’t cared which McEwan lass he married so long as he bound their clans and forced peace among their people?

Isobel shouldn’t be offended by this. He’d agreed to marry her before ever seeing her face. She shouldn’t be upset that he hadn’t recognized her name. And yet, it stung.

Kieran bowed. “Until tomorrow.”

The men retook their saddles, and Kieran stepped to Isobel’s side. She childishly wanted to refuse his help, to prove she hadn’t needed him since he’d begun ignoring her the day before, but it wasn’t true. She did need his help to mount this blasted horse.

He cupped his hands and she stepped on them, hoping she got them good and muddy. “Thank ye,” she said crisply.

He nodded, then looked down at his muddied fingers and crossed to the stream. He dunked his hands and wiped them down his kilt before retaking his saddle. The mud felt less glorious after watching him clean it off.

They called farewells, and Isobel watched Miles for any final recognition before turning away and following Hugh down the path, Kieran taking up the rear.

“Ye seem bothered,” Kieran said, pulling his horse alongside Teine after they made it a good distance from the Duncans.

She scowled at him, and he tucked his chin. He oughtn’t be surprised that she wasn’t entirely amiable after he chose to so studiously ignore her. What did he think would happen if he stepped too close to her? That she’d kiss him again? She was beginning to regret that impulse.

“Have I offended ye, Isobel?”

“Aye, ye have.”

Kieran let out an exasperated chuckle. “What would ye have me do, eh? I canna protect ye when I’m distracted by ye.”

She pretended what he said hadn’t given her pause, hoping her face didn’t betray her surprise. “Are ye calling me a distraction?”

He turned, holding her gaze. “I’m calling ye distracted. What is bothering ye?”

She puffed up her cheeks, blowing out a long and slow breath. Casting him a look from the side, she wondered if she was meant to keep Miles a secret, but McEwan hadn’t asked that of her. Surely it was cause to celebrate for all who wished for peace.

Or perhaps Kieran already knew of the marriage that had been arranged for her. She had no inkling of what the chief chose to share with those close to him.

“That man, Miles Duncan,” she started, unsure how she felt about the words leaving her lips. Saying them aloud to Kieran would make them real. Sucking in a breath, she spoke in a hurry. “I’m to marry him.”

Kieran was silent, his gaze raking over her face. Was he searching for truthfulness or something more? He lifted his eyebrows. “Does he ken as much?”

Isobel laughed. “Ye wonder if he might not. He made no indication that my name was familiar and was more concerned with the feud and the redcoats than me.”

“That may be a benefit,” Kieran said. “His attention is fixed on other things. He doesna appear to be the sort of man who would leer at ye, and for that, he’s earned my respect.”

A warm glow settled in her chest, and she glanced away. Kieran was correct. Miles, for all of his indifference, was nothing like the Duncans they’d approached a few days before, or the redcoats with their beady, hungry eyes. Miles appeared kind, almost gentle, and he hadn’t given her the feeling that he was playing a role.

“Thank ye, Kieran,” she said, satisfaction rolling through her. “If I have to marry a Duncan, I’m glad he’s not a brute.”

“Why d’ye have ta marry a Duncan at all?” he asked.

Isobel smiled. “Because I gave my word. I owe McEwan my life.” She said nothing more, and Kieran didn’t ask further questions. They rode on in silence until the woods opened up and revealed the beginning of the rise that led into Glen Ellen. They were nearly home—only a few more hours and they would reach the castle.

“Chin up, Isobel,” Kieran said, the sun reflecting off his teeth as he smiled. “Ye’ll soon be in yer own bed again.”

Her cheeks flooded scarlet, and she would have swatted the man had he been within range. “Dinna forget Mrs. Crabb’s cooking.”

“Och, aye. Who can forget Mrs. Crabb’s cooking?”

He looked down at her wrist, at the small stripe of stark white skin betraying the place her bracelet had previously resided, and his expression grew contemplative. She pulled her sleeve up to cover it.

“Ye’re a good woman, Isobel. If ye choose to marry that man”—he flicked his head, indicating the woods behind them—“he’ll be lucky to have ye.”

She sucked in a breath, unsure of how she felt about Kieran’s pronouncement. Her belly went warm, tumbling over itself in a way she hadn’t felt since before leaving her bracelet at Bongary.

That was not good.

* * *

Kieran left his horse in the hands of a younger lad and stepped out of the stables at Castle Moraigh. He breathed deeply, his gaze caressing the tall, gray stone castle he’d come to call home. When they’d left Glen Ellen and Moraigh had come into view, Kieran’s heart had warmed, and he’d known he was where he was meant to be.

He caught sight of Isobel stepping into Marion’s outstretched arms in the distance, a sheepish smile delicately curving her mouth. He wished he was closer so he might hear what they were speaking of.

The women started toward the stables, and he pivoted, slipping back inside before he could be noticed lurking near the doorway. If they were coming to see the horses, he wanted to be nearby.

“Have ye not started on Teine?” he asked Oliver. The young man stared up at him with wide, blue eyes. Smiling, Kieran took the brush from Oliver’s hand where he’d been rubbing down his horse’s coat. “I’ll do this. Ye’ve got enough to deal with.”

Oliver looked confused. He opened his mouth to argue when Marion stepped inside, Isobel close to her side, and Oliver’s face flushed crimson. He scurried away to take care of Ian’s horse instead, leaving Kieran with his steed and Teine waiting patiently for her turn.

Kieran ducked his head, brushing his horse’s coat as he cocked his ear to listen. He’d never cared much before about the opinions of others, but he was interested now in what Isobel had to say about their recent journey. She’d undoubtedly report her opinions to Marion, and he’d like to know what she thought before he went up to McEwan’s study to inform him about the redcoats and the Duncans.

Marion crossed directly to Teine’s stall and slid her hand over the horse’s face, speaking softly to her. Teine threw her head, whinnying before dropping it to rub against Marion’s shoulder. Marion’s laugh rang out in the dim stables, her joy evident in her grin. But it wasn’t Marion’s laugh that struck Kieran, stilling the brush in his hand and catching his breath. It was Isobel, standing meekly behind her friend, her hands clasped before her as she quietly listened to Marion’s chatter.

The vibrant, intelligent lass he’d spent the last few days with had ebbed like an eel, silently backing into her shadowy cave. Away from Moraigh, Isobel was the sun, but now, she was once again the shadow, and it infuriated Kieran in a way he couldn’t explain.

Did Marion even know the brightness that shone from Isobel’s quiet spirit when given the chance?

“Ye made it to Bongary, aye?” Marion asked.

“Aye, but we can discuss it when we have more privacy.”

“Ye’ve hardly spoken a word.” Marion speared Isobel with a look. “I’m eager to hear every detail.”

Kieran scoffed quietly to himself. If she’d been that eager, she would have inquired much sooner.

“It wasna a grand adventure,” Isobel said softly.

Her voice was so quiet that Kieran was forced to lean closer, to make an effort to block out the other noises of horses and grooms going about their work. He continued to brush the side of his horse, absently rubbing his neck with the other hand. He wasn’t being intrusive with his eavesdropping. Isobel had caught his eye a moment ago before tearing her gaze away. The lass knew he was there, that anything she said had the potential to be overheard.

His ability to rationalize eavesdropping was exceptional.

“Ye canna say that ye spent more than a week in the wild, part of that in the company of my father’s best warriors, and claim it wasna a grand adventure.” Marion laughed again. “I willna believe it.”

“That is yer choice,” Isobel said defensively. “It was more frightful than anything else. I willna run again, not alone. I regretted it deeply by the end of the first day.”

His brush stilled. He’d been correct; Isobel had been frightened. Anger sluiced through him, biting at his heels. He should have ridden harder, found her sooner. She never would have needed to feed a story of false marriage to the redcoats had she not been found alone.

Kieran was just as much to blame for that as she was. His inability to do his job, to find her in a timely manner, had forced her hand.

Marion paused in her ministrations and faced Isobel. Kieran could see Isobel’s face clearly, the exhaustion rimming her eyes and drooping her shoulders. “Ye weren’t in any danger, were ye?”

“Some,” Isobel said, shrugging slightly. “I was good at slipping away, but it coulda been worse. I was fortunate.”

Marion reached forward, grasping Isobel’s arm, and Kieran found himself leaning closer as well. His actions did nothing but bring him nearer to his horse’s side, and the stench of the sweaty, muddy beast forced his nose away again.

“D’ye regret going?”

“Nay,” Isobel said, her voice firm. She lifted her gaze and met Kieran’s, and he found he couldn’t look away. Her brown eyes sparkled despite her clear fatigue, and she spoke again, not tearing her eyes from him. “I would experience that journey twice over if I had to in order to reach Bongary Spring. It was worth every hardship.”

She lowered her gaze, and Kieran stepped back, moving to the other side of the horse and putting his back to the women so he wouldn’t be tempted to look at Isobel again. He desired to know what she had gone to heal. What about the bracelet he had given her had she needed to repair? It had been a token to ward off nightmares of losing her parents. Had she succumbed to nightmares again? Was it to remove the grief from her heart over losing her parents, or to calm her anger at clan Duncan?

He glanced back, unable to look away for too long. Isobel and Marion stepped away from Teine and linked their arms together before leaving the stables and making their way along the narrow path back to the castle, but Kieran remained behind, contemplating. Isobel was a distraction. She was preventing him from moving forward with his goal by staying ever-present in his mind. He needed to do something, to enlist McEwan’s assistance and plan a journey to exact revenge on the fools who had stolen his father from this world.

But not yet. Kieran needed to learn why Isobel had used the bracelet and what she’d gone to Bongary for, or he would never be able to remove her from his mind and focus again on what really mattered.

A commotion sounded and Kieran stepped outside, his gaze seeking the pair of women nearing Moraigh as a carriage swung around the castle, pulling to a stop before the main doors. Another carriage followed at a distance if the sound of many hooves was any clue, and Kieran’s chest tightened.

A servant jumped down from the back of the carriage and opened the door, and two men stepped out. The Kilgannon McEwans had arrived.