Page 48 of Devil Black

Isobel’s heart leaped. Catherine must have made good her elopement.

“Sir, I do not know. When I left, her intention was to elope with the son of our father’s bailiff. Please, do not tell my father.”

MacBain drew a breath. “Do you fear him? Does he use you harshly?”

“I do not like to think what he would do, if he learned the truth.”

“Mistress, I do not see that you can do aught but tell him. He will undoubtedly press for the truth concerning your sister, and my understanding is, he is already on his way here.”

Isobel’s stomach clenched hard, and her knees wobbled. MacBain reached out and steadied her.

“Is it true that Dougal MacRae snatched you on your way to Randal MacNab’s keep and coerced you into marriage?”

Isobel shook her head. “It was not like that at all. Our coach wrecked on the road. I wandered from the wreckage, not knowing where—or to be truthful, who—I was, for a time. Dougal MacRae lent me his assistance.”

“So he is a hero, eh?” MacBain’s voice was rife with skepticism.

“You might say so.”

“And why did not this hero convey at once a message to MacNab, who expected your—or, rather, your sister’s—arrival?”

“I—I did not at once remember whence I was bound.”

“So MacRae merely took you in, without inquiry, and married you? Are you aware that he and MacNab are old enemies and that Randal MacNab has complained of him to the King many times?”

“All you need know, sir, is that Dougal MacRae is my husband and I wed with him by my own free will. I am content with my present situation.”

“Why did you wed with him?” MacBain asked frankly. “A stranger to you, a suspected outlaw?”

“He offered me shelter and protection.”

“From what?”

“Among other things, from Bertram MacNab. Sir, you have met him and his father. Were you a woman, would you choose to marry into that brood? I came to Scotland prepared to sacrifice much for my sister’s sake, but when it came to it... A woman has very few choices in life, sir,” she concluded truthfully. “I chose MacRae.”

The captain remained silent for a moment, apparently thinking hard. “This wedding, then. Tell me about it. You were not forced or constrained in any way?”

“I was not. I had time and opportunity to refuse as I would. MacRae’s sister Meg, who lives here, counseled me. An itinerant priest called O’Rourke performed the rite.”

“I have heard much of O’Rourke from MacNab. It is possible he has been defrocked.”

“I am assured he has not.” Isobel held herself proudly. “I wished to make quite certain before going to my marriage bed that the joining was legal and binding.”

“Ah.” For the first time, MacBain seemed uncomfortable. “And, Mistress, can you assure me the union has, indeed, been, er, consummated?”

“It has. Repeatedly,” Isobel told him crisply, “and with great enjoyment. I am content with my marriage to my husband, Captain MacBain.”

“Forgive me asking, but Lord Randal MacNab asserts you were, indeed, forced—”

“He was not here, and he is wrong. Just because he and his son treat their own women badly does not mean my husband does so.”

MacBain bowed. “Aye, Mistress.”

Isobel extended her hand to him. “Captain, I have every wish to remain married to Dougal MacRae. Will you do your part to assure it?”

“You have my word, Mistress. But in truth I can do little besides report back to higher authorities in Edinburgh. This I shall do faithfully.”

“Thank you.”