He turned fully back to face her then, and whatever she had been hoping to find in his expression, some crack in it, some acknowledgment that she was trying to help, was not there. His face was a closed door. “I’ve had worse than this before breakfast and ridden twenty miles after. Daenae flatter yerself that ye’re savin’ anythin’ by standin’ here.” He took a step toward her, but she did not cower because the alternative was to show how much she feared him. “Ye’ve already cost me one man today. Daenae cost me more time on top of it.”
Isobel swallowed loudly but held his stare.
“Go home, lass.” His voice was stern and unforgiving. “And daenae come back to this part of the forest ever again.”
Isobel meant to stay stock still and face this man, but she could no longer conceal her emotions. She finally gave into the notion of protecting herself and turned away from him. She felt the warrior’s eyes on her as she ducked her head and hurried her footsteps toward the spot where she’d left Star waiting, but she did not…would notglance over her shoulder at him.
She climbed the slope without looking back, released the mare’s reins, and heaved herself into the saddle on legs that wobbled more than she would have liked. She guided the horse toward the path.
As she and Star wove their way through the trees, Isobel glanced to her left and right cautiously, then her eyes locked on the Highlander.
He had already turned away. He was crouching at the stream’s edge, upstream of the body, washing his cut with the brisk efficiency of someone who had never needed help from anyone, and didn’t plan to start seeking aid now. He did not look up. He did not watch her leave. She had been dismissed so completely that she was already out of his mind before she had left the forest.
She turned south and rode.
She kept her eyes forward and her hands steady on the reins, telling herself the strange, lodged feeling in her chest was theordinary aftermath of fear. Which was true. She had been afraid. But she had also experienced something else…something that was new and wholly unexplainable.
She had watched men battle to the death and once the slaying was over, she had spoken to the victor. She had stood toe-to-toe with a warrior and offered him her assistance.
An icy jolt of terror belatedly rushed through Isobel’s veins.
What was I thinking?
She knew now that she had been foolish. That man, that Highlander, could’ve hurt her. He could’ve killed those two men in the stream, then done anything he wanted to her.
She tightened her grip on Star’s reins and urged her horse to move faster.
I must put as much distance between us as possible.
Star responded eagerly to her mistress’ prompting. As the horse took off at a speedy gallop, Isobel prayed that she’d never have the misfortune to witness battle ever again. But more than that, above all her other silent murmurings, she hoped that she would never encounter the handsome warrior again. For she might have the blood of Highlanders thrumming through her body, but she did not know how she might ever be able to confront that man again.
Chapter Two
“Me Lady, is everythin’ well? Ye’ve ridden her hard.” A stable boy rushed forward as Isobel dismounted in the courtyard, his eyes widening at the state of her mare.
The Graham household had, thankfully, appeared just as the last rays of sunlight vanished behind the western hills. Isobel’s mare was soaked in sweat, her sides heaving from the tough ride home. The familiar stone walls should have offered comfort, but Isobel’s chest stayed tight, her thoughts still tangled in the events at the stream.
She could not shake the image of the Highlander from her mind. The way he’d moved with such deadly grace, the cold fury in his sparkling eyes, and the bitterness in his voice when he had realized that she was English remained. And during that moment at the end, when he had looked at her with something that was akin to disdain, her stubbornness had been dwarfed by a sense of alarm. In her panic, she’d flown from the sight of him and all that his presence wrought.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Isobel’s voice came out in a clipped manner. She had not meant to be short with the lad, so she tried to speak in a pleasanter tone as she elaborated on the situation. “Just… I lost track of time at Margaret’s. Please see to Star’s every need; she’s earned extra oats tonight.”
The boy nodded and led the exhausted animal away, leaving Isobel standing alone in the fading dusk. The house loomed ahead, windows glowing warmly with candlelight, but something about the atmosphere felt strange.
The air itself seemed to hum with tension, and as she moved toward the large, wooden doorway, she could hear raised voices from inside.
“…had nay right… Thomas, ye had nay right to do this without…”
“I was not given a choice, Catriona. There is no…”
“There is always a choice! Ye simply…”
Isobel quickened her pace; her earlier fright at the stream momentarily forgotten in the face of this new concern.
What’s happened while I was gone? Have they heard word of raiders? Should I tell them what I saw?
She pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped into the entry hall. The warmth greeted her immediately, along with the scent of tallow candles and the peat fire burning in the large hearth.Servants hurried around with worried looks, and at the center of it all were her parents.
Her mother, Catriona, looked pale and gaunt, one hand pressed to her throat as if struggling to breathe. Her father, Thomas, had his back to the door, but Isobel could see the tension in his shoulders and how his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.