Page 23 of To Win a Highlander’s Heart

Orrick’s gaze shifted between Isolde and Alastair. “My brother doesn’t have a problem with strong females. Gwendolyn is proof of that. However, until Lieutenant Collins and his men are a problem we can no longer avoid, let us save our worrying for other things.”

Isolde bit her lip, still concerned. “Do you think the lieutenant’s return will be followed by more English troops? Will the isle clans object to that?”

“Once the news of the lieutenant’s return makes its way through the clans, people will settle down and wait to see what happens next,” Orrick said.

“That might be true,” Rowena said as she stood up. “In the meanwhile, we have to protect ourselves from not only the English but also from Iso . . . Izzy.”

Orrick’s face clouded. “Sit down, Rowena, and rein in your sharp tongue. Our guest is not here to harm us. She needs our help.”

“What utter nonsense,” Rowena retorted. “Did you hit your head while you were out in the wilderness? We all know from experience that the men of our family become irrational when hit in the head.” She narrowed her gaze on Isolde. “If you give that woman back her weapon on the morrow, you’ll be sorry. Sarah Nicolson has always spoken of Izzy as temperamental, stubborn, hot-heated, and dangerous.”

Orrick pushed his chair back roughly as he stood. “Watch your words, Rowena. Our father’s past head injury is nothing to make light of. He became a tyrant after it happened. Besides, some could also say you are temperamental, stubborn, hot-heated, and dangerous.” His gaze challenged his sister to dispute his claim.

Tormod scowled and stood. “Why are you so mad at Izzy, Rowena? Explain yourself so that we might all understand.”

“I would love for her to explain why she left Scorrybreac Castle in the first place. All we’ve heard are stories she says were invented after she left.” Rowena’s eyes bored into Isolde’s with a lethal mixture of fury and smugness.

The riveting stares from those around the table told Isolde she had no choice but to tell them that part of her tale.

Beside her, Orrick’s jaw tightened. “You do not have to tell them anything you are not ready to reveal.”

Isolde returned an appreciative smile that faded a moment later. “They have a right to know. My presence endangers the entire clan—not just from the English but from my brother as well.” Isolde laced her fingers and studied them as she tried to decide where to start this part of her story. In the silence that descended over the chamber those who had stood took their seats once more, waiting.

“My father was a good man. When he realised he had a daughter who was more interested in swords than dolls, he encouraged me to follow my heart. He educated me alongside my brother during the afternoon. And every morning, he allowed me to spar with my brother and his friends at the castle.”

Isolde paused as the memories crowded back. “I grew in strength and spirit until I could not only match my brother’s skill but exceeded it. When John switched his weapon of choice to the bow and arrow, then promptly discarded it, I picked up his bow and trained even harder. After years of training, my skill level was far superior to any other man in our clan, even John’s.”

Her heartbeat stumbled and again she paused, reining in her emotions. Retelling the story felt like she was reliving the events. “My father was about to approve my induction into the castle guard when he and my mother were called away on business. They sailed from Scotland to Flanders with a promise to return within the week, but their ship capsized during a storm, killing them both. John became the new laird, and refused to honour my father’s wish that I be allowed to fight alongside the men. Instead he tried to marry me off.

“When it became clear to both John and Sarah that I wanted nothing to do with marriage, John came up with a plan. He invited the man he wanted me to marry to Scorrybreac and set up a challenge. If I could best Ewen MacPhee using my bow and arrows by hitting three targets he’d set up in the courtyard, I could join the guard. If I failed, then I would have no choice but to marry as my brother wished.”

She shrugged and dropped her gaze to her hands. “I could have hit those targets with my eyes closed.” She sighed. “To make an ugly story short, Ewen MacPhee cheated. He knocked into me and sent my rapidly fired arrows astray. One arrow hit John and one hit my very pregnant sister-in-law in the belly, sending her into labour. I was forced out of the castle before I could learn whether or not Sarah or the child survived.”

When she finished there was only silence. By some miracle, the twisting ache that had resided in her chest since she’d been cast out eased ever so slightly. Isolde looked up to see stunned expressions on the faces of those about the table.

Gwendolyn’s hand drifted to her abdomen and rested there as though protecting the babe inside her. “Did no one at Scorrybreac take your side after witnessing these events?”

“Only my maid. I can only assume that everyone else was too afraid of what my brother would do to them if they stood against him. So I was cast as the villain and forced out of the castle.”

Rowena’s brows came together as though deep in thought. “Sarah never mentioned Ewen MacPhee, or targets. She told me you fired that arrow at her. That you shot directly at her.”

“I would never harm an innocent or take the life of any child born or unborn.” Isolde allowed herself a rueful smile. “I don’t blame Sarah for any of her words against me. She was fighting for her life that day, and that of her child. She remembers the events of that day as they pertain to her survival.”

Alastair studied her with a dark, probing gaze. “You are very forgiving considering what those events cost you.”

Isolde regarded the laird suspiciously, not knowing if she had just been complimented or insulted.

“And despite my earlier reservations,” he added with the hint of a smile, “I will allow you to train on the morrow, but only if you give your weapons back to Orrick when you are finished for the day.”

“I can agree to that,” Isolde replied, still wondering why he’d had a change of heart. Did he see the truth of her words? It mattered not. He had given her permission to train. For that she was more than grateful.

“Brea. The child’s name is Brea.” Rowena offered the words with a clearer brow.

Isolde held her breath. Was Rowena’s sharing her niece’s name with Isolde a peace offering? “Thank you, Rowena. Knowing her name means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you.”

Isolde frowned. “For what?”