Page 41 of Sins of a Scot
It was sometime later that they both climbed into bed. It was an awkward moment, and Iseabail eyed him carefully.
“I can still sleep on the floor,” he said, lifting his hands in a supplicatory gesture.
“It’s fine,” she said, sounding as convincing as a one-armed juggler.
He waited until she had settled herself, pulling the coverlets over her fully dressed body. Only when she seemed comfortable did he lower himself in beside her. The bed bowed under his weight. He remained outside the coverlets. Partly to appease her worry, partly because he didn’t trust himself as he slept. His daydream had told him enough.
“Good night, Owen,” Iseabail said curtly.
“Good night, me lady,” he replied.
For a while, sleep did not come to him. He imagined it had something to do with the fact that he was lying as stiff as a board, terrified that any movement might bring him too close to her and scare her half to death. But eventually, his eyes grew heavy, and finally, he slipped into a slumber.
Strange dreams marred his sleep, a mixture of faces, old and new. The men who were after him were chasing him, and then,the girl he had saved was there, but she was no longer free. The men grabbed at her, but as Owen ran after them, she turned, and it was not the girl after all, but Iseabail, screaming for her to help him.
Owen fought the men, but then all he could hear was Iseabail reprimanding him for fighting. But still he continued, battling and battling, until, half awake, he realized that he was pushing Iseabail out of the bed.
“Och, God,” he cried, trying to grab her before she fell onto the wooden floor.
In an automatic reaction, for Iseabail still seemed fast asleep, her arm lashed out, in some way, perhaps trying to save herself. Her fist hit Owen in the eye, and he let out a howl. Iseabail was woken at the noise, and upon realizing that she was falling, gasped in fright.
“What are ye doing?” she cried.
“I’m trying tae save ye,” Owen blurted, his right eye closed over with the pain, “but ye thumped me in the eye.”
“Och, me God, I’m so sorry.”
Owen still had a tight grip on her arm, and with a final heave, he pulled her back onto the bed before dropping his head back onto the pillow and lifting his hand to his eye.
For a moment, the two lay there breathlessly, completely bewildered as to what had just happened.
“I’m sorry fer hitting ye in the eye,” Iseabail said, breaking the silence.
“And I am sorry fer shoving ye out o’ the bed,” he returned. “I was having a very realistic dream.”
They both turned to look at each other, and beginning with a smile, the two ended up bursting into laughter. They giggled for a little while and then eventually, things settled down again. Iseabail sat herself up in the bed and quickly pushed herself out of it.
“What are ye doing?” Owen cried.
“I’m getting something tae put on that eye.”
“Och, I’ll live.”
“I’d like to think so,” she said, taking a cloth and dipping it into the cold bath water. “Now here,” she said, sitting beside him on the bed, “stay still.”
While he went to protest, he felt the soothing cold against his eye and decided against it. She was trying to be helpful, even though he didn’t need it, and perhaps, he ought to just let her. It would make her feel better if nothing else.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Ye’ve already said sorry. Ye were sleeping. It’s nae yer fault.”
“Nay, I mean about earlier. Ye were right. I brought unnecessary attention tae us both and it was dangerous. I would never purposefully put ye in danger, Iseabail.”
“I ken,” she said softly. After a moment’s silence, she continued. “Let’s just forget about today, all right? We were both tired, and mistakes are always easier then.”
Owen nodded, feeling all the animosity he had held against her earlier simply slip away to nothing. They were to forgive each other and, as he lay there, her lying partly over his body to reach his face, he found it far easier than he would have imagined.
They rose just before dawn and, with the innkeepers’ words about the dawn sailing fresh in their minds, made their way to the docks in readiness for the boat’s arrival.
