Chapter 14
Fergus had not yet returned, not that Philip had expected him, but still, it was inconvenient. He left instructions for Fergus to follow when he arrived at Sgor Dubh, then Philip sought out Isobel and Stephen.
He found them in the great hall breaking their fast. He carefully avoided meeting Isobel’s gaze. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Isobel looked up at him with a wide smile. “I told Stephen where we’re going.”
Philip looked quickly around the hall, relieved no one was nearby. “Have you told anyone else?”
“Of course not.”
“Could anyone have overheard you?”
She looked around, confused. “No.”
“Good. Speak of it no more. Do you understand?”
She frowned at him, but said, “Aye, but why?”
Philip shook his head in disbelief. Would she never understand?“So the Kilpatricks dinna decide to use you for kindling in their May Day bonfire, that’s why. Christ, woman—think!”
Isobel looked at Stephen helplessly. “But it’s good tidings for your family.”
Stephen nodded, speaking around a mouthful of bread. “She has the right of it, Philip. A white witch, she is. White witches are not burned.”
Philip cuffed the back of the lad’s head. “Of course they are—as soon as someone perceives something they’ve done as evil—or as soon as someone dies, folks suddenly recall how thatwhitewitch once happened to touch or look at the deceased. It doesna matter what good deeds they’ve done in the past when a scapegoat is needed. Now leave off with all this talk of witches. I dinna want to hear either of you say that word again.”
They both nodded, though Isobel clearly thought him unreasonable. It would drive him mad, leaving her with Kincreag. She would be strapped to a stake and lit like a candle in a sennight.
He mustn’t think of it. Not his place.
They set out, heading northwest. The pink heugh daisies and lus an rois of the coast gave way to violets and heather blanketing the ground in a soft carpet that muffled the horses’ progress. But the terrain would grow difficult soon, as Lochlaire was nestled in a glen surrounded on all sides by mountains. He wondered how long it would take Isobel to notice they were heading deeper into the Highlands, rather than southeast, where the town of her vision lay. It seemed luck was with him and her sense of direction was poor—that or Stephen’s incessant chatter kept her from noticing. To give her a reprieve, Philip and Stephen took turns riding ahead to scout out their route. There were a lot of broken men wandering the western Highlands.
The gray he’d fetched from Sgor Dubh as a wedding gift washigh-strung and still nervous around Isobel, so they had to be kept apart—the gray had a nasty habit of biting anything that annoyed him. Philip hoped the horse found the earl highly irritating.
When they stopped to rest the horses and eat, Stephen took him aside.
“We’re not going to Wyndyburgh are we?”
“Aye, we are. Right after we deliver Isobel to her father.”
Stephen glanced over to where Isobel knelt beside a burn, washing her face. “She will be vexed. She thinks she’s going with us.”
Philip shrugged. “Not my problem.”
Stephen looked back at Philip speculatively. “You seem…discontented of late.”
“Do I? Well, I’m not,” Philip answered sourly.
Stephen made a few thoughtful noises, but wisely said no more.
Philip tried not think of his cowardly behavior. Isobel would be upset when she found out he was not taking her to Wyndyburgh with him, but it couldn’t be helped. He was not strong enough to withstand her entreaties to join him. He knew that if she kept at him, he’d eventually give in and he’d be forced to spend even more time in her company, which would be disastrous for both of them. No, it was better this way.
When they were traveling again, and Stephen was scouting ahead, gray in tow, Isobel made an effort to engage Philip in conversation. He’d been quiet most of the day, thinking it better to have as little contact with her as possible. The situation had somehow gotten away from him, and he didn’t like that. He liked being in control of things, but she set him off-balance.
“Tell me about some of the people you’ve located,” she said. “You must have some very interesting stories.”
“I canna speak of most.”
