All chatter had ceased in the great hall so that when Lena screamed her rage, Graham was certain no man, woman, or child could have missed what she said next.
“Ban-druidh!”Lena screeched.
Graham’s blood ran cold at his sister calling Isobel a witch. Such an accusation could cause whispers where none had been. It could also stir those who disliked Isobel to hurt her in the name of God.
“Lena!” Graham thundered. He shrugged out of Lachlan’s hold and started down the stairs of the dais as murmurs arose from those assembled in the great hall.
“Witch?” Isobel gasped. “Ye dare to call meban-druidh!”
“I dare because ye are!” Lena screamed and then lunged at Isobel. Graham jumped down the last step to get to his wife to protect her, but there was no need.
Isobel sidestepped Lena’s lunge, grasped Lena’s hair where it met the nape of her neck, and tugged her face back until she was forced to meet Isobel’s gaze. “I’m nae a witch, ye foul-mouthed clot-heid!” Isobel hollered, bringing Graham to a shocked halt at her lack of fear. When Lena tried to scratch at Isobel’s eyes, Isobel pulled her head back harder, suffering an angry red scratch down her right cheek when Lena’s fingernails raked down her face. She recoiled, but did not release Lena’s hair.
“Grasp her around the neck!” Bridgette screeched, jumping up to demonstrate.
Isobel was a quick learner. She had her arm circled around Lena’s neck with a swiftness that shocked Graham, and then she settled her blazing gaze on him. “It’s way past time for yer sister to have her mouth, body, and mind cleansed of the hatred residing in it.”
A burst of gratitude and something else, something that felt suspiciously like much more than the simple caring a man must have for his wife, tightened his throat so that he simply nodded his agreement.
Isobel blew a strand of hair out of her eyes as Lena twisted to try to free herself and called Isobel foul words even Graham had never heard of, but Isobel did not seem to notice or care. She smiled sweetly at Graham. “Please have steaming water, soap, and a wooden tub brought to yer sister’s bedchamber.”
Even as Graham nodded, Isobel looked away from him to Marion and Bridgette. “I’ll need help if either of ye are willing?”
“Aye,” Marion quickly said and rose.
“Of course,” Bridgette agreed readily.
“Come along, Lena,” Isobel said in a kind but firm voice.
When Lena dug in her heels and screamed,“Ban-druidh!”once more, Isobel tsked. “Ye best come now without another word or I’ll show ye just what a witch I can be,” she warned.
As Graham followed the women’s progress to the door, he noted several tight faces and wary eyes upon his wife. And at the door to the great hall, Rhona, looking especially white and frightened, made the sign of the cross as Isobel passed her. Marion paused in front of Rhona, said something to the woman, and Rhona followed Marion out. Graham frowned. He needed to correct any misbeliefs about Isobel.
As the noise in the great hall grew to a roar and the doors closed behind Isobel, Lena, Bridgette, and Marion, Graham whistled loudly for silence. After a minute, the volume finally decreased to a dull murmur.
“My wife is nae aban-druidh. Anyone who says otherwise will answer to me,” he said, his voice seeming to boom off the walls. He swept his gaze across the crowd to let them see how strongly he felt about this. None dared to meet his stare, except a few of his men and Rory Mac, who grinned at Graham like a clot-heid. Graham nodded, and feeling certain he had laid that problem to rest, he quickly left the great hall intent on standing guard and ensuring Isobel’s safety.
Rhona, with the help of several other women, brought steaming water and a wash tub in as Lena continued to scream that Isobel was a witch. Marion and Bridgette struggled to undress Lena, but when Isobel saw that they simply did not have it in them to be as firm with the woman they so loved as was needed at the moment, Isobel took Lena herself and fought her until she had her gown off.
The sight of Lena Campbell half-clothed made tears fill Isobel’s eyes. Marion turned away, and Bridgette quietly cried. Isobel curled her hands into fists as raw, primitive grief overcame her for what Lena had endured. But as Isobel’s gaze inadvertently swept over the woman and then froze on the myriad of long lash scars on her stomach and burn marks on her back, her emotions veered sharply to rage so strong and dark that she began to shake.
When she caught the eye of the woman Rhona, who was staring open-mouthed at Lena, Isobel exploded. “Get out!” she ordered in a sharp voice. When the woman simply stood gaping, Isobel grasped her by the arm, dragged her from the room, and slammed the door in her face. When she turned back, Marion and Bridgette were struggling with Lena, who was trying to claw at her own skin.
“Dunnae look at me!” she wailed, flailing her arms.
Isobel raced to Lena and caught her wrists. “Stop it!” she commanded. “Each time ye feel shame ye let Findlay win.” Lena still twisted violently to free herself, but a wretched sob broke from her. Isobel took a deep breath. Lena was hearing her!
“Each day that goes by and ye hide yerself in filth and grime, and cloak yer heart in hatred, is another day that Findlay has conquered ye,” Isobel went on. Lena’s struggles lessened, and the broken sobs gave way to heaving. Isobel’s heart squeezed painfully for the shattered woman. “Each day that goes by and ye allow the past to rule yer future is another day lost to ye, and Lena—” she released the woman’s wrists and grasped her by the upper arms “—soon what made ye who ye were before my family captured ye will be lost forever unless ye cease this.”
Lena’s tear-filled eyes circled the room and finally came to Isobel’s face. “I’m afraid,” Lena whispered, blinking back tears. “I kinnae return to him. I would rather be dead.”
Marion and Bridgette came near as Isobel ran her hand gently down the length of Lena’s arm. “I ken,” she said, “and I vow to ye this: ye will nae return to him.”
“But the king has ordered it,” Lena whimpered.
“The king be damned,” Isobel said fiercely. She wanted to tell Lena what she had overheard about her brothers making arrangements for Alex MacLean to help to hide her safely, but she could well imagine why they had not told her or their wives. They were likely afraid one of them would give the plan away, or worse, they had worries that their plan wouldn’t work. “I vow to ye, whatever it takes, I will nae allow ye to fall into my family’s clutches again.”
Lena sagged against Isobel and wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so verra tired,” she cried.
