Marsaili’s eyes widened. For a long moment, she simply stared at Isobel, then her lips twisted into a wry smile. “I can see it’s nae taken ye long to learn the dishonest ways of the outside world.”
Heat rushed to Isobel’s cheeks, and she took her sister by the elbow and turned her so they were facing the water. She could feel Graham’s burning gaze on her. She did not understand how, but she knew he watched her, and if he thought she was going to try to run, she had no doubt he’d be on her swifter than a hound hunting a rabbit.
“I have been forced to this by men,” Isobel muttered.
Marsaili sighed. “Aye. Ye have. We women are all but pawns in the game of men.”
“Jean is nae,” Isobel rebutted.
Marsaili snorted. “Dunnae deceive yerself, Isobel. Jean dunnae make a move without Father’s agreement. She just likes to make herself appear strong, which is likely why she is so cruel. She’s angry about her lot, I suppose.”
Anger rose in Isobel’s chest. “I will nae be a piece to be moved as a man pleases.” She quickly told Marsaili of the women rulers in history that had chosen their husbands as she was hoping to do.
Marsaili shook her head. “Ye dunnae even ken yer grandmother. Even if ye make it to Oban and to this leader of the Summer Walkers and he agrees to aid ye, yer grandmother may nae agree to allow ye to choose yer husband. What then?”
Isobel bit her lip. “Then I will marry without her consent. And once the deed is done, she must hand the castle to me and my new husband.”
Marsaili smirked. “And who would ye marry?”
A picture of Graham flashed in Isobel’s mind, making her belly tighten. He would never agree to marry her, a Campbell, and if he did, it would only be to control Brigid. And she’d only be marrying him because he could protect her. And he was very easy to look upon. And he was honorable. And—
Marsaili clapped in Isobel’s face. “Is there someone ye have in mind as a possible husband?” She quirked up an eyebrow.
“Nay!” Isobel rushed out. “I was thinking of my escape. I’m sorry to ask it of you again, but will ye help me?”
“Aye,” Marsaili immediately answered. “But how?”
Isobel glanced at the river and then behind her to where the men were. To her relief, Graham was not looking their way but talking to Cameron and Rory Mac. She faced the stream and whispered to Marsaili. “I’ll swim away. If I try to run on foot, they’ll see me directly.”
“Swim!” Marsaili hissed. “Ye’ll freeze to death! Or ye’ll drown.”
“I’m a verra strong swimmer,” Isobel said, but she could not stop the shiver that coursed through her at the thought of the icy water. “As for the cold, I’ll bear it because I must. I’ll nae be in it long enough to freeze. Simply stand at the edge here and talk down toward the water as if I’m still here.”
“For how long?” Marsaili asked, her brow furrowed.
“As long as ye possibly can. I’ve nae a doubt Graham will give chase once he kens I’m gone.”
Marsaili’s eyes shone with concern. “Ye best pray he dunnae catch ye. I fear he’s a man once crossed is always an enemy.”
“I fear ye’re right,” Isobel replied, wishing there was another choice but seeing none. She wanted to hug Marsaili, but she did not want to raise suspicions. “I am sorry I did nae believe ye about Father,” Isobel said.
Marsaili sighed. “I’m sorry I was right. Ye dunnae ken how I wish he was the man ye thought.”
Isobel’s throat tightened with sadness and regret at having to part with Marsaili. “May God bring us together again one day.”
With those words, she picked her way down the rocky embankment to the water. She slipped off her shoes, fearing they would add too much weight to swim well. Taking a deep breath, she quietly walked into the water. The icy temperature turned her blood cold, sending sweeping gooseflesh over her and stealing her breath. Her lungs seemed to shrink as numbness immediately set in.
Above and behind her, Marsaili talked steadily, and Isobel forced her sluggish legs to walk the rest of the way into the deep water. Her teeth chattered until the moment she slipped all the way under the water and began to swim away. With every kick, she was sure that a hand would suddenly grab her ankle and drag her backward. Her worry grew and her heart raced, so that when she did finally hear Graham’s deafening roar behind her, she gulped in large mouthfuls of water before she was able to control her nerves and renew her efforts to escape.
Anger was a powerful thing. Ignoring his throbbing shoulder, Graham surged through the glacial water as he cursed Isobel in his mind. The lass was deceitful, foolish, but damnation, if he did not have to admit that she was brave. Never had he met such a fearless lady. He crushed the admiration with ferocity and a reminder that she had lied to his face, and in doing so had now put herself, him, and his men in danger by delaying their journey back to Dunvegan. It was unacceptable, and when he caught her, she would have to be punished.
He lifted his head with his next stroke and saw her near. Three, maybe four, more strokes and he would have her in his reach. He could not imagine what made the lass think she could have escaped him. Except…he had to admit that she had accomplished the feat once before. But he had been distracted by battle!
Begrudging admiration for her determination to risk everything to get what she desired settled in his chest. When he raised his head once again, Isobel had one foot on the embankment on the opposite side of the river and then she was scrambling up and running. He was not worried. He reached the embankment in a breath and raced out of the water in another. In two more breaths, he caught her arm and swung her around to face him. Defiance shone in her beautiful eyes, and her chest heaved enticingly with each ragged breath. His shriveled bollocks grew back to proportion along with the rest of his groin as his eyes fastened on the twin peaks of her nipples that strained hard against the wet, thin material of her gown.
His mind went completely blank of purpose for a moment as he took in her full glory. Isobel had a body made to spark and fulfill passion. She had generous hips and breasts but a tiny waist. She was not a tall woman, but he could see that her legs were long and slender by the way her soaking gown molded to them. Desire strummed through him, and it took every bit of will he possessed not to drag her to him and crush his mouth to hers.
“Going for a swim, my sweet?” he asked, forcing himself to forget how much he wanted her and concentrate on how deceitful she had proven. He could not forget that.
