Lena shoved her hair, which Isobel noted still looked as if it needed a very good brushing, out of her face. “My brother marries ye for revenge and for yer castle. Dunnae ever forget that, Isobel,” she hissed.
“Lena!” Graham snapped, but he did not deny his sister’s words.
Humiliation burned Isobel’s cheeks. Her tongue felt suddenly too big to form words, but she managed to somehow. “I ken well why yer brother marries me,” Isobel replied, her words made terse by the terrible sense of bitterness assaulting her.
“Good!” Lena spat. “Ye may well be a MacLeod after this night, but ye will nae ever be part of this family! Ye’re nae wanted! My brothers will nae forget what was done to me. They will nae forget me!” she cried, her voice growing so loud that Isobel was sure the people standing all the way back by the castle door had heard.
Yet, Isobel also heard fear and desperation in the woman’s voice, and she wondered if Lena had been told the news that the king had demanded she be sent back to Findlay. Surely, they had also told her that they planned to hide her, but what if they had not for some reason? Sympathy filled Isobel for the woman’s plight, and she had the urge to tell her she understood Lena’s anger, but the gesture would likely only enrage the woman more.
“That is enough, Lena,” Graham growled. His voice was low but so powerful that Isobel shivered. He set his sister aside with one quick motion, reached out, and then took Isobel’s hand in his.
His burning eyes held her still for a moment, and she stilled at the tenderness she thought she beheld there, but when he flicked his gaze to his sister, Isobel understood clearly that the tenderness was for Lena.
“Dunnae fash yerself, Lena,” Graham said in a gentle tone. “I will nae ever forget what was done to ye. I vow it.”
Isobel bit her lip to keep from crying. She feared that Graham’s anger at what had been done to Lena would be a thick, permanent wall between them, among the many other walls.
“Come,” he said to Isobel, without a trace of the tenderness his voice had held for his sister. He tugged on her hand. “The king and Father Murdock await within to marry us, and I’m impatient to see the deed done.”
His words sparked such anger within her that her sadness disappeared. She gritted her teeth against her retort. It would not do at all to get in an argument with her future husband mere moments before her wedding, but as soon as the vows were exchanged and they were alone, she was going to inform this brutish man that she was not simply adeed to be done. She was a person with feelings, and he could treat her with a modicum of kindness and strive not to embarrass her in front of others. He couldpretendto care for her at the very least!
Graham tried to keep his gaze off his wife—his wife—but it kept straying to her concerned face as she spoke with Marsaili and then her lovely smile as Cameron approached her and asked her to dance. Graham felt a smile come to his own face as he watched her move, gracefully as an eagle soaring in the sky, when she joined Cameron in a circle dance with some other members of the clan. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks grew rosy, and he found himself struggling to stay in his seat and continue to listen to Iain, who was speaking about the king’s proclamation that he’d decided to depart after the wedding to go tell Gowan the news rather than send a messenger.
Graham was so pleased to see Isobel finally smiling. She had looked so fearful during their wedding and she had barely spoken or eaten afterward at the meal, but now she looked so much more cheerful. He suspected Lena’s words had upset her greatly. He’d thought about quieting Lena once she had started to spew her hatred, but he’d hoped if she got some of it out, it would lessen the burning anger within her. He feared it had not and what she might attempt to do next. Yet, as he thought about how Lena had looked as she had raged, he realized her eyes had been clear and her gaze focused, which was much different from the dazed expression she normally wore. Mayhap the anger would turn to a determination to survive, but he’d take a care to watch over Isobel until he saw a larger change in Lena.
It seemed to him that the more all of them—himself, his brothers, Marion, Bridgette, the entire clan, really—treated Lena as if she were a shell that could be easily crushed, the more she acted like one. When they had first rescued her, she had been angry about what had happened to her, but she had seemed strong, as if she were going to be able to overcome it easily. But no longer. He was not sure if it was because her future was still tied to Findlay, but hopefully that would soon change.
Graham swept his gaze around the room and found Lena standing in a corner with Rhona. He frowned. He didn’t like how much he had seen those two together lately considering they both harbored ill-will toward Isobel for different reasons. He caught Rory Mac’s eye and inclined his head toward his sister. Rory Mac gave a quick nod of understanding and made his way over to Lena, and then she was following him out onto the dance floor where Isobel was still dancing.
Graham scowled as jealousy gripped him. His wife had been dancing with Cameron, which had been fine, but now she was dancing with Broch, one of their largest and best commanders, who considered himself a gift to the lasses. Graham had liked Broch, despite his cockiness, until now. He narrowed his eyes and started to stand, but Iain clamped a hand over Graham’s forearm.
Astounded, Graham glanced toward his brother. “Would ye mind if we finish this discussion in the morning?” he asked, realizing he’d need Iain to repeat most of what he had said since the feast had started anyway.
Iain smirked. “I dunnae mind it at all, especially since I ken ye have nae heard a word I said, and it is important that ye are actually listening to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Graham offered distractedly and moved to rise once again, thinking Iain would release him, but his brother held firm. “Was there something else?” Graham demanded, his impatience to go to Isobel growing.
“Aye. There is. I recognize the look on yer face because such jealousy is a daily part of my life when it comes to Marion.”
Graham gritted his teeth. What he was feeling should not be so obvious.
Iain waved a dismissive hand. “Dunnae fash yerself. ’Tis how it should be to care so for yer wife.”
“I dunnae care for—”
“Ye do,” Iain interrupted, “whether ye ken it or nae. But I’ll nae argue with ye. I did nae recognize it until after ye offered for her, but I could see it clearly when we spoke afterward.”
Graham shrugged out of his brother’s hold. “Ye see things that are nae there,” he growled. He departed the dais before Iain could argue further. Graham moved through the crowd but was forced to stop when a group of his fighters surrounded him. Bran, one of his younger and more outspoken warriors, put a hand on Graham’s shoulder. “We are all in awe at the sacrifices ye make for our clan.” The men around Bran nodded.
Cormac, Bran’s brother, said, “If ye dunnae wish to keep her in yer house after the required joining, I’d be happy to take her into mine as a leman. She may be a Campbell at heart, but she is bonny.”
Graham’s swift fury at the man’s lurid suggestion shocked him.
“Look at her skin,” Cormac continued, speaking to one of Graham’s other men. “Do ye nae wonder if it’s that white under her—”
Graham clamped his hand around the man’s neck, his rage pumping in hot surges through his veins. Around him, he heard murmurs. Cormac’s hands came immediately to Graham’s, but with a swiftness cultivated by relentless hours of practice, he brought his dagger from its hold to the man’s gut as he squeezed Cormac’s neck until his face started to turn purple. He began to gasp and claw at Graham’s hands.
To his right, Lachlan fast approached, and Iain to his left. He knew the music of the pipers still played because it trickled in through the pounding in his ears. He shifted his razor-edged gaze to Bran to see if the man would interfere on his brother’s behalf, but Bran held up his hands—palms facing Graham—and shook his head. The rest of the men in the group had a mixture of stupefied and uneasy expressions on their faces.
