The Return of Black Douglas (26 page)

“That will grow into a full-blown baby in about nine months.”

“I don’t need a baby right now. I don’t have a husband.”

“Well, the baby doesn’t know that,” Elisabeth said.

Isobella walked to the window and stood watching Bradan and some children playing in the courtyard below.
What would Alysandir think if he knew? Would he be furious? Would he marry me? Send me away? Ignore me, or replace me? Should I return to Màrrach? Should I remain here?

Elisabeth answered the question for her. “You have to return to Màrrach, Izzy. If Angus finds out, he may not let you leave. A child of Alysandir’s would be the ultimate pawn. It’s hard enough keeping Bradan’s parentage a secret. I don’t think we can hide the baby’s, too.”

The back of Isobella’s hand covered her mouth, and she fought against crying. She turned back to Elisabeth. “Oh, Lord! Not after what I’ve done. How can I go back?”

“How can you not? It’s his child. He has a right to know.”

“He may not take me back.”

Elisabeth gave her a look that said how stupid she thought that last comment was. “For a smart woman with two degrees, sometimes you are just plain stupid, Izzy. He did not send you away. You left. And stop wringing your hands. We can work through this. After all, it isn’t the first stupid thing you’ve done or the first child born out of wedlock.”

Isobella took a deep breath. “You’re right. So, who can we trust to ride to Màrrach and tell him?”

Elisabeth sat down to think about that. “I don’t know, but I’m sure we can come up with something. As a last resort, we could speak to the priest here.”

“Yes! Alysandir’s uncle Lachlan Mackinnon is the abbot at Iona. Surely the priest could get word to him.” She sighed. “How have I gotten myself into such a mess?”

“By being human?” Elisabeth’s countenance brightened. “You’re in a predicament but not an impossible one.”

“It seems that way to me. His brothers and sisters turned against him in helping us come here. His feelings toward me won’t ever be the same now. How can they be? How can I expect him to forgive me?”

“Don’t fret. We will work through this. Eventually, the tides will turn in your favor. Your life isn’t over. You’re simply having a life reassessment.”

Two more weeks of reassessments passed slowly for Isobella. Elisabeth said it was because she was plagued with bouts of morning sickness. “It usually goes away by the fourth month.”

“Arrrggghhh…”

Although the morning sickness didn’t disappear, it began to lessen enough that Isobella took a stroll outside. The garden at Duart was almost as beautiful as the one at Màrrach. She sat upon a stone bench with a furry grey kitten on her lap and watched the antics of six downy ducklings making squishy, rippling noises as they paddled in circles around a water-lilied pond.

Nearby, the song of birds quietly ushered in the evening and the gloaming settled softly about her while bees droned in innumerable trees; busy like mothers whose work was never done. She was thinking there was nothing lovelier than a sunny burst of golden daffodils growing among mossy stones.

As changeable as Mercury, her mood suddenly became deeply, sadly pensive. What was she going to do? Abandoned to her own fate, she had been in residence at Duart Castle for almost a month and she still did not know what the future held for her.

For every door that closes, lass, ten will open.

Suddenly, Sir James was standing by the fountain a few feet away.

“I’m not very happy with you or the way things are going. If this is your idea of playing matchmaker, you would be better off sticking to ghosting… or riding a broom. I feel like I am adrift in a leaky boat without oars, in case you haven’t noticed.”

She looked off and did not say anything for some time, and when she did look back at him, she thought he must have seen the forlorn expression on her face and the frown between her eyes.

“Ye are no’ the architect of yer future, Isobella, but dinna be distraught, fer ye are allowed to paint it with yer favorite colors and redecorate it now and then. Ye are feeling as if ye have been tossed into a maelstrom and fear ye are being swept away. But nothing remains the same and fortuitous circumstances shape lives as surely as calamity.”

“And are there fortuitous circumstances in my future?”

His features softened, and she wished he was mortal so she could give him a hug. “’Tis not my place to foretell yer future, only to help ye doon the right path until ye reach the crossroad.”

“And then what?”

“Ye must choose.”

“By myself?”

The musical chime of his laughter rang out in harmony with the gleam in his eye. “Aye, by yerself. But fear na ye, chance favors the prepared mind.”

“Bah! If there is anything I don’t feel it is mentally prepared.”

Up went his brows, and his words were spoken in a playfully mischievous way. “Ye will, in time.”

She put her hand to her head. “There is so much I don’t understand.”

“Ye can follow a course of action without understanding it, lass, just as ye can follow an unknown river knowing it will eventually lead to civilization. Be of good cheer. ’Tis no’ so gloomy as it appears.”

“I’ll try to remember that while groping around in the dark with no map and no destination in mind.”

“Understanding is a dark shadow that always looks darker, emptier, and further away than it really is. Ye are young, impulsive, ardent, and impatient. Those same qualities drove Adam and Eve out of Paradise.” His image faded, and the sound of his laughter fell around her like a million tinkling bells.

“Thanks, I feel ever so much better,” she said.

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Isobella gave a start. “No, I was giving our shimmering friend a hard time.”

Elisabeth sat down. “He is here.”

When she saw the expression on Elisabeth’s face, she knew. “Alysandir?”

“He wants a word with you.”

Isobella hated being separated and yearned to see him. She ached for his touch, but it was too soon. “I am just now at the point where I can go more than two hours without crying. I can’t see him. I’m afraid to.”

“You have important things to discuss, like your future, which isn’t just yours any longer. Tell him the truth about what has changed and how you feel about it. Say what you want. He can’t fix what he doesn’t know about.”

“I doubt he will fix it regardless. He has one child he does not want. The last thing he wants is another one.”

“That may be, but refusing to talk to him won’t settle anything. It’s
your
baby. That might make a difference. He has a right to know. Now, where would you like me to tell him to go?”

“To the devil!”

Elisabeth laughed. “I mean, where shall I send him to meet you?”

“Here, where it’s peaceful and private, yet in plain view, in case he decides to throttle me.”

Elisabeth stood and smoothed the skirts of her brown silk gown. “Be of good cheer, Izzy. Alysandir may be a blockhead, but he is a kind-hearted blockhead and he loves you, even if he doesn’t know it.”

Isobella turned to watch a peacock strutting toward her. The kitten in her lap arched its back, leaped to the ground, and darted into the lilies.

“They say they are two of the most useless things in the world—lilies and peacocks. I should have known you would choose the garden as the place to meet.”

And you always linger in the back of my mind, silent as a butterfly…
She did not turn, but she heard his approach across the gravely ground. “I loved being in our garden when I was a child. My father always told us there were fairies living there, but I never saw them.”

Suddenly, he stood before her with a frown on his face, and her heart lurched. “Ye are thinner.”

“Yes.” It was true she lost weight grieving and suffering through morning sickness, but she was not going to tell him that.

“Are ye no eating?”

She looked down and smoothed her skirts. “Not very much.”

“And the reason for that?”

“I haven’t been hungry.”

“And the real reason?”

“I wrestle with demons that steal my appetite.” She lifted her head and met his gaze. She saw by the pain in his eyes that he had missed her, too. “Elisabeth said you wished to speak with me.”

“I have come to take ye back to Màrrach.”

“Why? You know why I left, and I have no desire to return under those circumstances. So you must give me a reason to return.”

“Because I want ye there.”

“Why?”

“I want ye. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“You want me. May I inquire as to in what capacity… your prisoner, a dalliance, your mistress, your wife?”

“I told ye that I will never marry again.”

“Yes, I remember all too well. Nothing has changed. I see no reason to return to the very thing I ran away from.”

“Not even if I agree to accept Bradan as my son?”

She studied his face. “You are asking me to become your paramour in exchange for Bradan’s rights as your son and rightful heir?”

“’Tis no’ so bad as it sounds.”

Her heart cracked and she turned her head away, not wanting him to see the disappointment, the aching pain, the utter devastation that she felt. She looked in the direction of the pond, not really focusing on anything, but doing so simply because she needed to have him out of her line of vision. She could not think clearly when she looked at him.

The silvered reflection of a spiderweb caught her eye… an unsuspecting fly, the ever-present spider, a wisp of gossamer, the struggle within the cocoon of death, and it was over. She could feel the wisp of gossamer tightening around her neck. Like the spider, Alysandir was sucking the life from her. She exhaled wearily, her mind not wanting to do this; her heart saying she had no choice.

As the ancient saying went, of two evils, the lesser is always chosen. Bottom line was that Alysandir would accept Bradan, and she hoped that would include her child. He would care for her, at least for as long as she pleased him.

What did it matter, really, for as Søren Kierkegaard had said, “My honest opinion and my friendly advice is this: do it or do not do it—you will regret both.” She sighed resignedly, ready to have it over and done with.

“Come with me, and I will take the lad hunting for one week; just the two of us. Would that please ye?”

She nodded. “It would please me greatly, but it will please you even more.”

“I will inform the Maclean we are leaving. I will ask him to allow yer sister to accompany us, but do not get yer hopes up in that regard. Angus is a prideful and stubborn man, and he longs to have the upper hand. He gains nothing by letting her go.”

He must have seen the hurt in her eyes, for he continued, “My hands are tied, lass. I am on Maclean land. Your sister is their property by right of capture. I canna make demands, but I will try to persuade Angus. ’Tis a verra awkward position I am in, and the opposing faction has me over a barrel.”

As expected, Angus was steadfast in his determination to keep Elisabeth, unless Alysandir wanted to exchange her for Isobella. “I am feeling charitable, and as long as I have one of the two lassies, it matters naught which one it is.”

Alysandir declined and assured the sisters their separation wouldn’t be much longer.

Isobella, Bradan, and Alysandir departed and spread their plaids beneath the stars that night. The next morning, after tea and oatcakes, they mounted, and with an uneasy wind at their backs, they rode into the wilds of Mull. Isobella found it difficult to maintain her resolve. She was lonely and felt forgotten in a world that closed in around her, cold as the shoulders of Ben More.

It grew cooler, and Alysandir told Bradan to wrap himself in his plaid. He removed his own from his saddle pouch and wrapped it around himself and Isobella. The timing was perfect, for the sky loosened a torrent of rain. They threaded their way through massive boulders and sodden turf, climbing and then descending until the rain stopped and she could catch the scent of the sea. Before long, she would see the towers of Màrrach rising in the distance.

It wasn’t until they rode into the courtyard that she realized how tired she was, physically and emotionally, for the journey had taken much out of her. She felt some sense of happiness at arriving back at Màrrach, and she tried not to think about what lay ahead.

Alysandir handed her down from his horse, and Isobella found herself surrounded by his sisters, who greeted her with hugs and questions.

“We have missed ye!” Sybilla said. “’Tis no’ the same with ye gone.”

“Marion also chimed in, “I’m so verra happy ye are back!”

“Well, that doesna leave much for me to say,” Barbara said, and hugged her. “I ken ye are tired.”

“I passed tired hours ago,” Isobella said, smiling as she went into the castle, arm and arm with Barbara, so very happy to see things were back to normal between Alysandir and his sisters.

***

Their departure being something she did not want to miss, Isobella was up early the next morning to see Alysandir and Bradan off. She paused in the doorway and observed the quiet way they checked their packs carefully. Then Alysandir said, “Mount up.”