Journey to Bongary Spring by Kasey Stockton

Chapter Seventeen

Marion turned at the carriage’s approach, and her stomach swirled when she caught sight of the familiar vehicle. Uncle Brian stepped out first, followed by his son, Simon, and Marion welcomed them with her manufactured, broad smile. She could falsify her joy as well as any woman, and she was most certainly doing so now.

Simon’s tall, muscular frame was likely considered handsome to some, but his small mind made him ugly. There weren’t many people that could fool an entire clan into thinking they walked on water when their heart truly resided in the belly of the earth. But Simon had. He’d fooled everyone.

He stepped forward, ignoring Isobel, and snatched Marion’s hand smoothly from her side, bringing her knuckles to his lips. The kiss he left was wet, rolling her stomach as it cooled against the wind. Wrapping her hand in her skirt, she wiped the back of it and sent a smile to her uncle.

“Allow me ta show ye inside.”

Isobel followed close behind her, quietly remaining in the shadows as Marion led her Kilgannon relatives upstairs towards her father’s study. Hugh had been restored to his position just outside the door, and Marion watched as he sent Isobel a wink when she sidled up beside him, waiting for the Kilgannons to enter the study. They’d likely grown close through the trials of Isobel’s journey. Isobel looked at him as she would a friend.

Loud, gruff welcomes bounced between the men, the joy in the brothers’ reunion pausing the stragglers outside in the corridor. Simon hovered in the doorway, his gaze straying to Marion in a way that made her wish to pull her arisaid over her head, so she no longer had to see his chilling eyes.

“Simon, Marion, come,” Father boomed, and Marion looked to where Isobel hunkered behind Hugh, quietly awaiting direction. It would be a kindness for Marion to dismiss her now before her father caught sight of the woman, but Marion hesitated, wondering if it would be better for Isobel to see him while there were others present to temper his anger.

Her indecision decided for her when Father stepped close to her side, spotting Isobel in the corridor. His smile tightened, but Marion thought she could discern relief pass over his face.

“I heard ye’d returned,” he said, his eyes not straying from Isobel.

She stepped forward, dipping in a curtsy. The wear of her journey was evident in the mud covering her gown and the unkept knot in her hair. It was no wonder Simon had passed over her with quick dismissal when he’d arrived. Isobel was a mess.

And Marion, selfishly, had been too happy for her friend’s return that she’d failed to notice before what was plainly obvious now. Isobel needed a bath and a minute to herself within the safe walls of Moraigh to recover from her journey.

“Aye,” Marion said, stepping to Isobel’s side. “Allow me to make her presentable and we’ll come to ye before dinner, Father.”

He hesitated until Brian’s voice echoed behind him, demanding a restorative drink.

“After dinner,” Father said, lifting his eyebrows slightly.

Marion dipped her head in acknowledgement, and Isobel followed suit. The men filed into the study, leaving Hugh standing at attention at the door, and Marion’s gaze tripped over each of them before snagging on the highest shelf of books. The little leather book had been returned to its place, and her breath caught.

Now that the castle was filling with guests and Father hardly left this room, had he believed it was once again a safe space for the book? Marion didn’t care too greatly for his reason. She was simply thrilled to see it again.

But now a difficult task lay ahead of her. She needed to find a moment alone in her father’s study, retrieve that book, and decipher it.

Father had a reason for his odd notations, and he had reasons for inviting the new laird of Dulnain and the Kilgannon McEwans to feast on the same evening. She had one day to figure out exactly what it could all mean.

Taking Isobel’s hand, Marion swung around and hurried down the corridor. They turned onto the spiral staircase that would lead them up to their bedroom, and she pulled up short before barreling into Kieran’s chest.

“Forgive my haste,” Marion said.

Kieran dipped his head. His gaze lingered on Isobel, but when Marion turned to widen her eyes at her friend, Isobel had already torn her eyes away.

Slipping around Kieran, Marion pulled Isobel upstairs. Father’s secrets could wait. She needed to hear about Bongary Spring right away.

* * *

Isobel dipped her head under the warm water and scrubbed her hair and face until her skin felt raw. She held her breath until her lungs screamed for air, and she lifted her face from the tub, sucking in a breath. The bath soothed her scoured skin, and Isobel sat back, breathing out a sigh of relief that she made it back to Moraigh whole and unscathed.

“Ye needn’t speak if ye’re too tired, but I’m eager to hear of yer success with Bongary.”

Isobel sat up taller in the narrow, tin tub. “Ye’re so certain I had success?”

“Ye made it to Bongary Spring, did ye not?”

“Aye.”

Marion nodded once. “Then yes, I’m certain of yer success.”

Isobel wished she had the same unadulterated faith. She’d seen Bongary work for others, but the flip in her stomach and the heat of Kieran’s touch spoke volumes of the spring’s failure for her. Perhaps she hadn’t had enough faith or hadn’t given the correct token of offering. She had been loath to part with a bracelet that had been her steady companion for many years. Even now she missed the familiar weight of it on her wrist.

“When did my father’s men find ye?” Marion asked, sitting back against her seat.

Isobel flattened her hand over the top of the water, watching it run over her fingers as she pushed them under. “Just before Bongary.”

Marion’s eyebrows rose. “How’d ye convince them to let ye continue on?”

Isobel swiped the water from her eyes. “We were so close already, it was a half day’s ride. I begged, and they agreed.”

“What did ye give to Bongary?”

Isobel touched her naked wrist, and a shiver ran up her arm.

Marion rose immediately, bringing a towel with her. “Come now, ye’re plenty clean. Ye’re shivering in there.”

Isobel allowed Marion to coax her from the water and dry her skin before dressing her in a clean shift. She pulled on her layers, grateful for the cast-offs Marion had sent her way periodically over the years. It had built up a good-sized wardrobe for Isobel of finely made clothing that was thick and warm. Marion led her to the seat at the dressing table and began combing her hair, their roles reversed.

Outside this room, Isobel had always maintained the deference needed for Marion’s position, but within the chamber, they were equals, sisters of the heart. It was part of why they’d brought Isobel’s small bed into Marion’s room shortly after Isobel had arrived at Moraigh. Marion had begged her father until he relented. That, coupled with Kieran’s support, had done wonders to end her nightmares.

Marion brushed through her tangled, wet tresses. “Tell me everything.”

Isobel’s stomach clenched uncomfortably. “I dinna ken where ta start.”

“Start with Kieran.”

The sound of his name sent a hot jolt through Isobel, and she looked to the door instinctively, but it remained closed. Heaving a sigh, she spun on the chair, tipping her head back to meet Marion’s eye. “I dinna think it worked.”

Marion’s mouth fell open, the hairbrush going limp in her hand. “Ye’re not serious.”

“I wish that were the case.”

Taking her by the hand, Marion pulled Isobel up and toward her bed. They sat beside one another on the edge of the mattress. “Ye drank from the spring and left an offering?”

“Aye. I left the leather cord he tied on my wrist all those years ago.”

Marion nodded as though she approved.

“I felt changed for the first few days, as though my afflicted heart was no longer in love and I could regard Kieran as a friend. It was refreshing to hold a conversation with the man and not fear excessively for what I looked like or how I sounded.”

“What happened to change that?”

“I dinna ken.” Isobel shrugged. She wanted to tell Marion of the kiss, but that would be revealing something she felt was better kept hidden. It hadn’t been love, anyway. It had been a physical expression, and it would remain as such. “He’s been attentive, kind. I see him and my stomach flips.”

“But ye’re marrying the laird.”

“Aye. Nothing can come of it.”

Marion sighed. “What a waste.”

Isobel opened her mouth to argue but swallowed the words that fought to escape her tongue. It wasn’t a waste, not to her. She had overcome her obsession for a few days and had been able to spend time with Kieran. She had an experience she would never take back, despite the hardships, and now she had that kiss to relive in her mind for the rest of her days. If her meeting with Miles Duncan on the bank of the stream was any indication, she was about to enter into a marriage purely for the sake of dispute resolution. She was likely meant to provide heirs and manage the house, nothing else.

She did not expect romance to occupy her life, and the trip to Bongary had made it possible for Isobel to accept it with grace. In that sense, the spring had healed her malady. She was no longer obsessive.

“Shall we go down to dinner now?”

“Ye may go,” Isobel said, trying to offer a bright smile. “I think I shall rest before my meeting with yer father.”

“Ye need to eat.”

She also needed a break from Kieran. She could sacrifice one meal to regain her equilibrium. “I’m no’ hungry,” she lied.

Marion didn’t seem to believe her, but she was kind enough to pretend.

“I will fetch ye in an hour and take ye to his study myself.”

“Thank ye.”

Marion kissed her cheek before sweeping from the room, and Isobel lay back on her friend’s bed, running the events of the previous few days in her mind.

She chuckled, thinking of Miles Duncan, and wondered exactly how he was going to respond when he came face to face with her at the feast tomorrow and McEwan introduced her as his betrothed. He was in for a surprise. If he recognized her now that she was clean.

She shivered. Hopefully, she wasn’t too changed. It would be amusing to knock her future husband off-kilter.