Stolen Vows (32 page)

When Graem had dismissed the Camerons, (who promised to think over what had been said) Roan was asked to remain for a few more minutes, talking over what had happened, and whether he thought they would accept the offer.  Roan tried his very hardest to reply to each of the old man’s questions with polite interest.

When he was finally free, Roan hurried through the castle corridors back to his rooms.  His wife was sitting at the table by the window, polishing off a pot of tea and some biscuits.  She turned when she heard him enter, and a smile instantly blossomed on her lips.

“Roan,” she beamed, getting up and rushing over to him.  “I dinna expect ye back so soon,” she said happily, wrapping her arms around his waist and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Tis nae a problem, is it?”

Isla smiled up at him again. “Of course nae!” she responded.  Roan dabbed another chaste kiss on the tip of her nose, but this one earned a frown. “But if ye intend to stay, ye had best be prepared to kiss me properly!”

“Oh?” Roan dipped his head again, so that his breath whispered against Isla’s lips.  “What else am I allowed to do properly?”

“I’m quite sure that I dinna ken what ye mean,” Isla smiled coyly.

“I’m quite sure that ye do,” Roan growled.  His hands drifted to her bottom.

Isla’s breath caught in her throat.  Being wanting by Roan was the most thrilling feeling imaginable.  The hunger in his eyes made her burn and ache.  She raised a hand to his face, lovingly stroking his cheek with the backs of her fingers before knotting her hand in his thick hair.

“Ye want me?” she purred aloud in wonder.  It was all too good to be true.

“For an intelligent woman ye do ask the most ridiculous questions,” Roan scolded, but with no venom, only amusement.  He lowered his head again, so that he could lavish attention on the elegant curve of his wife’s throat.  “I always want ye,” he confessed, his words reverberating through Isla’s skin.  “I always will want ye,” he promised.

“Show me, Roan,” she whispered, surrendering to his embrace.  “Love me.” 

That would make it all perfect,
Isla realized dimly.  If only Roan could repeat his declaration of love from the previous week.  And if only she could believe that he meant it! 

Roan’s fingers were just tugging at the laces of his wife’s corset when there was a loud rap on the door.   Isla froze, and Roan cursed, and then the knocking was repeated, joined with a call of “
Isla?
”

“Bridghe,” Roan growled, looking disgusted. 

“We should let her in,” Isla murmured meekly.

“We should
ignore
her,” Roan grunted, which earned a giggle from his wife.

“Roan!” she grinned, because although she was frustrated, Isla was in far too good a mood to let anything dampen her spirits.  Her husband gave in.  He walked across the room to open the door to his sister.

Bridghe flounced into the room.  She cast her brother a suspicious look.

“Oh - yer here?” she glanced between husband and wife and rolled her eyes.  “I dinna suppose I need to ask why?” she added sweetly.

“I dinna suppose ye do,” Roan replied.

“Roan!” Isla gasped, turning an even deeper shade of red.  Her husband wandered back to her side and dotted a kiss against her lips, completely ignoring his sister.  Bridghe cleared her throat loudly, but her brother continued to act as though she wasn’t there.

By the time Bridghe had actually deigned to leave, Roan had received a summons from the Laird, which he was forced, reluctantly, to answer.  He kissed his wife, made his apologies and then went away in a sulk.

Left alone there was only one thing that Isla could think to do - find her brother and try to figure out what Roan had said to him. 

“Something’s put a smile on yer face,” Ian remarked when his sister appeared at his door.  He cocked an eyebrow.  “Dare I ask what, or who?” he added with a cheeky grin.  Isla stuck her tongue out playfully, but couldn’t keep from beaming.

“I came to hear what Roan said to ye.”

Ian frowned, “Have ye changed yer mind again? Do ye want to come home.”

“Of course nae!” Isla blurted. “I want to stay.  I
have
to stay now.”

“Ye
have
to stay?” Ian repeated her words warily. “Why do ye
have
to stay?  If that MacRae is trying - !”

“Oh, tis nae like that!” Isla interrupted, growing weary of her brother’s constant suspicion.  “Tis just…we….” A flush spread over her cheeks. “What if there is a bairn?”

Ian’s reaction was certainly not what Isla expected.  He frowned.  His whole face fell into serious, grave lines of concern.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded.

“Is that why ye changed yer mind about staying?” he demanded, walking across the room towards her.  “Ye think he might have got ye with child?  Because I ken it would more difficult to leave with a bairn in tow, but twould nae be impossible and I - ”

“Ian!” Isla gaped.  “What are ye talking about?”

“If ye decided to stay at Erchlochy Castle just because of the wee bairn then I want to ken,” he said doggedly.

“I dinna!” Isla shrieked.  “And there is nae a bairn yet. I just said that there
might
be,” Isla’s lips curled up on the edges when she thought about carrying Roan’s child. “And if there
was
, it certainly would nae be a burden!”

Ian looked sorry that he’d upset his sister, but he still didn’t look wholly convinced by her reasoning.  “Look Isla,” he sighed, “I’m happy for ye, if this is want ye want,” he qualified, “but I dinna want ye to feel trapped here.”

“I dinna,” Isla repeated. 

“I’m just looking out for ye, Carrot,” Ian muttered.

“I have a husband who does that for me now!” Isla hissed.

“But does he?” Ian asked darkly.

“Aye!” Isla cried, becoming truly irate. 

Her brother sighed wearily.  “Well if that’s the case then I’m sorry, and I’m glad for ye, but Isla, ye canna begrudge me my suspicions given how yer -” he paused hesitantly, “- how yer marriage came about in the first place.”

“I do begrudge ye yer suspicions,” Isla whispered venomously.

“Isla,” Ian implored, adopting what he probably hoped was a reasonable sounding approach.  “Just yesterday yer husband was asking if I could take ye back to Castle Cameron with me.”

“I explained that!”

“Hardly,” Ian snorted.

“Ian,” Isla warned.  “Yer my brother, and I love ye, but yer treading on dangerous ground here,” she said coldly.

“And yer my sister,” Ian fired back.  “And I will nae stand by and watch a MacRae make ye miserable!”

“He’s nae!” Isla shrieked, throwing her hands up in the air.  Why was Ian making this all so difficult?  She had expected him to be happy for her; Roan’s sister had managed that much after all!  “He makes me happy,” she finished sharply.  “I would have thought that ye could be pleased for us!”

With that she made a beeline for the door, not stopping or in any way heeding her brother’s apologetic calls.  She stormed out into the corridor, careless of the dangers she might face – a small part of her
wanted
to meet Tavish.  In her current mood she felt quite an equal match for his vicious attacks!

Isla didn’t meet Tavish however; in fact she didn’t meet anyone as she marched back to the rooms she shared with Roan.  Ian hadn’t followed her.  He knew his sister well enough to know that the safest course of action was inaction - to wait until she’d calmed down before trying to approach her again.

Alone in her chamber Isla fumed, bitterly disappointed with her brother for his reaction, but relieved to know that she would be allowed to stay.  She sank down into her favorite fireside chair and laid a hand across her stomach, imagining what it would be like when she really
was
carrying Roan’s child. Her imagination wandered. She wondered whether she would have boys or girls and which she would prefer.

Isla was still thinking on these things when the door opened and her husband strolled into the room.  She rushed over to greet him, perturbed by his serious expression.

“Roan?  Is something wrong?” she asked. 

“I’ve just spoken to yer brother,” he revealed slowly.  Isla gave an indignant little snort.  Ian was still set very firmly in her bad graces.  “Isla,” Roan choked.  “Are ye only staying with me because ye think that ye might be pregnant?”

“What?” Isla gasped.  “Nae!” she shrieked.  Why didn’t anyone understand?  “I’m staying because I love ye!” she blurted, and then clapped a hand over her mouth when she realized what she’d said.

She’d never meant to make the confession so baldly, so recklessly.  She’d certainly never meant to reveal her true feelings before Roan had made his own regard for her perfectly clear.  She lifted her eyes to her husband’s face, fearfully wondering how he was going to react.  Would he laugh?  Would he toss her love aside?  Or worse, would he take her devotion, but be unable to love her in return?  Isla tried to judge which was the most likely as she forced herself to gaze straight into Roan’s eyes, but she couldn’t quite discern his expression.

“Ye love me?” he whispered, his usually strong voice breaking uncertainly over the words.

Isla considered denying him, but such an act was beneath her, and besides, she didn’t think that she
could
claim not to love him, not now.

“I love ye,” she repeated breathlessly.

“Oh Isla,” Roan groaned, he reached for her, and then crushed her tight against his chest.  “Isla,
my
Isla,” he growled possessively.  “I love ye too,” he swore, “I love ye so much,” he confessed, smothering her lips beneath his own before Isla had any chance to respond. 

She positively melted in his arms, her heart was singing like a freed bird. 
He loved her
.  He had said that he loved her, and this time Isla couldn’t help but believe him.  She could feel his love in every brush of his lips and whisper of his fingertips, on his breath and in his eyes, and yet she couldn’t resist asking for reassurance.

“Truly?” Isla murmured thickly.  She blinked up at Roan with a dreamy smile and heavy lidded eyes.

“Truly,” he purred.  “Yer amazing,” he murmured. “I still canna believe yer really mine,” he continued reverently.  Isla’s already flushed skin began to glow. “I really love ye,” he declared ardently, his eyes glinting with the truth of his words.  He kissed her soundly, distilling the sentiment in to a tangible touch.

“And I suppose that means ye canna
really
be angry about the way we…
married
, anymore?” she pressed; she was panting slightly from the very thorough kiss her husband had just demanded.  He laughed loudly at this new question.

“I have nae been angry about that for a good long while, lass,” he grinned.  “I dinna suppose I could have found a more suitable wife if I’d chosen her myself,” he teased.

Isla gave his arm a playful thump.  “Tis a terrible thing to say!” she exclaimed, looking deliberately offended.

“A more charming wife?” Roan amended, casting Isla a lopsided grin.  His wife stuck her tongue out at him in return.

“
That
was nae the terrible part,” Isla huffed.

“Oh?” Roan cocked an eyebrow.  He seemed to take a moment to think back over what he’d said.  After a moment’s pause, he whispered huskily: “I choose ye now.”