“You’d best save your strength,” Hugh said, choking with laughter. He turned to Sìleas and added, “Don’t forget my offer.”
When Ian took a step toward Hugh, Sìleas stood up in front of him.
Ian’s breathing was harsh, and the muscles of his arms were taut beneath her fingers. It would be foolish for Ian to attack Hugh with five of his men in the room and another fifteen waiting outside.
Hugh threw his head back, letting his laughter fill the tiny room. Sìleas was certain now that he was trying to bait Ian—and he was close to succeeding.
“ ’Tis not wise to laugh at the misfortunes of others,” Teàrlag said, “especially when ye will be facing worse ones yourself.”
Hugh’s smile disappeared. “What are ye saying, old woman?”
“I see your death, Hugh Dubh MacDonald.”
Hugh’s face drained of color, and he took a step back.
Teàrlag reached into a small bowl on the shelf above the hearth and threw what looked like dried herbs on the fire, making it spit and smoke. Then her good eye rolled back into her head, and she began making an eerie high-pitched sound as she shifted from foot to foot.
“I see it clear as day,” Teàrlag said in a distant voice, as if she were speaking to them from the other side. “Ye are laid out on a long table, and the women are preparing your body for the grave.”
“Don’t say it, witch!” Hugh held his hands up as he backed up to the cottage door.
“I see your death, Hugh Dubh MacDonald,” Teàrlag called out, waving her arms. “I see your death, and no one is weeping!”
“Damn ye, woman! Ye know nothing. Ye see nothing,” Hugh shouted, then turned and left the cottage. The other men stumbled over each other in their hurry to follow him out the door.
As soon as the men had gone, Ian turned blazing eyes on the old seer. “Why did ye find it necessary to tell them lies about my manhood, Teàrlag? All the men on the island will be having a good laugh at me by this evening.”
“The women, too.” Teàrlag’s three good top teeth showed in a wide grin.
“Her story did divert them from looking for Connor and Duncan,” Sìleas said in a soft voice, as she tried to hide her own smile.
“Ah well,” Teàrlag said, waving her hand. “Ye deserve it after what ye done to Sìleas.”
“What?” Ian said, banging his fist on the table. “I’ve done nothing to deserve being humiliated.”
“Do ye not suppose the entire clan discussed how ye left Sìleas the morning after ye wed?” Teàrlag said, shaking a nobby finger at him.
Ian sat down. After a long moment, he turned to Sìleas and took her hand. “Did the women tease ye, then?”
“Oh, aye,” Sìleas said with a dry laugh. Pitching her voice high, she imitated their voices. “ ‘Can ye no keep your man at home, Sìl?’ ‘What do ye suppose is keeping Ian?’ ‘If ye had given him a child, perhaps your husband would want to come home.’ ”
Ian brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’m sorry. When I was in France, I still thought of ye as a young girl who would have no use for a husband.”
If ye thought of me at all.
“Ian, go get the other lads now,” Teàrlag said, taking the bowls down from the shelf. “They haven’t finished their dinner.”
It amused Sìleas to hear Teàrlag order Ian about as if he were a boy of ten and not a man three times her size. Her amusement faded as soon as Ian had gone and Teàrlag focused her single eye on her.
“So why have ye no taken that fine-looking husband to your bed yet?” Teàrlag said. “I know it isn’t for the reason I gave that devil Hugh Dubh.”
Sìleas felt her cheeks go hot, and she dropped her gaze to the floor.
“Give him time,” Teàrlag said, covering Sìleas’s hand with her gnarled one. “Ian has it in him to be the man ye want him to be. Do ye have that pouch I made for ye?”
Sìleas nodded.
“Ye sleep with it next to your heart?” Teàrlag asked.