“And as to who I am?” The large man settled her against him on his mount. “Patrick MacDowylt, brother to yer new laird. Bring him.” He motioned toward Robbie before tugging on his reins to turn his horse back in the direction of Castle MacGahan.
Chapter 24
“Where have you taken Rob—” Isa stopped herself, glaring at the man who so arrogantly occupied her grandfather’s chair. “What have you done with MacQuarrie?”
“Dinna fash yerself over yer guardian’s well-being, lass. Lardiner is seeing to his accommodations. Ah!” Malcolm MacDowylt looked past her as the door opened. “And here’s our ever-helpful friend Lardiner even now.”
Isa sat on the edge of a small chair the man called Patrick had pulled up in front of the MacDowylt before returning to his brother’s side. Though they’d not bound her hands or feet, she felt every inch the prisoner as she surveyed the faces of the people in the room.
Several warriors—all MacDowylt’s men, no doubt— crowded into the chamber. One fellow she’d seen before. Roland’s man, Shaw, leaned against the back wall. And Agneys, perched daintily on a chair on the far side of the room, watching everything with her usual air of disdain.
Isa worked at gathering her scattered thoughts. Robbie lived. They’d brought him here as captive, but he lived. All was not lost.
Roland strode into the room, sparing her one of his greasy sneers as he neared. Before he reached the MacDowylt’s side, Patrick stepped forward, his hand on an empty chair across from Isa, clearly indicating to Roland he should be seated.
“Good.” Malcolm steepled his fingers on the table in front of him. “Now that we’re all here, perhaps we can settle this matter.”
“We’ve no a need for the half-wit to be present,” Roland snarled. “I can have my man, Shaw, see to her.”
Shaw seemed to shrink in his spot near the wall, glancing to the men on either side of him, their hands lying loosely on their weapons.
Malcolm shook his head. “I dinna think that would be our wisest course of action, eh, Isabella?” He turned to her, a grin splitting his face. A grin that didn’t touch his eyes. “In fact, Isabella’s our guest of honor. Which is only fitting for the woman I’m to wed, is it no?”
“You canna do that! There’s no a reason for it. You ken my own Agneys carries the old laird’s heir. If yer to wed any it should be her,” Roland blustered.
Isa could imagine nothing more repugnant than to be on the same side of an argument as that slimy bastard, but in this case she agreed.
“I’ve no intention of being yer wife, MacDowylt.” Hands clasped in her lap, Isa waited for the silence to draw out as inspiration struck. “I... I’ve already given my vows of marriage. To MacQuarrie.”
“Vows dinna mean so much if yer a widow,” Roland snapped.
“They also dinna mean much coming from a fickle, murdering whoreson like yerself,” Isa retorted, forcing herself not to think on thatwidowremark.
Roland lunged from his seat, his arms outstretched, but two of the MacDowylt’s men stepped in front of him before he’d taken a single step, encouraging him back into his chair.
She wouldn’t be stopped by his anger. “Yer a child-beating bastard and you murdered my grandfather,” she accused, pointing a shaking finger his direction. Whatever was to come, she meant to make sure everyone heard what horrible deeds lay on Roland’s hands, whether they believed her or not.
Malcolm sat back, turning his steely gaze on Roland. “These are serious accusations. Is this true, Lardiner?”
“She lies,” Roland answered through gritted teeth. “I told you she was mad.”
“So you did.” Malcolm nodded, turning back to her. “I dinna suppose you’ve proof of yer charges? A witness, mayhaps?”
Isa shook her head, struggling to speak around the lump that formed in her throat. “There was one. But Jamie, the child who saw what Roland did to my grandfather, slumbered in my cottage when those men put it to the torch.” More words refused to come and hot tears streaked unbidden down her cheeks while silence filled the room.
“My, but isna that convenient?” Roland’s sarcastic tone grated on Isa’s ear. “You claim there’s only one witness to yer sack of lies but you canna even produce him. You see? You canna believe the blether of a madwoman, MacDowylt.”
“Perhaps it is as you say, my friend.” Malcolm stroked his chin as if deep in thought. “But I’m of a mind to hunt for the truth in this matter before I make my decision. Until that time, I think it best we confine you all to yer chambers.”
With a flick of his wrist, his men closed in, waiting.
“Me?” Agneys sounded indignant in her surprise. “Yer thinking to hold me in my chambers as well?”
“Everyone for now.”
Isa rose to her feet, jerking her arm from the grasp of the man who’d offered assistance as she stood.
“Except Isabella. I’d ask you to stay for a moment, my lady. We have a private matter to discuss.”
