Page 49 of Sins of a Scot
“I was hardly going tae let ye lie there and die, Iseabail.”
Iseabail smiled. “Why nae? It would have gotten ye out o’ this mess I’ve dragged ye intae.”
“I needed the adventure,” Owen quipped back with a smirk.
“Aye, right.” She cast him a knowing look. “When I met ye, I’d say yer life was adventurous enough.”
And she wasn’t wrong. In fact, he would go as far as to say, too adventurous. But what they were doing was different. While he was fighting to pay off nefarious men, Laird Sutherland clearly had far more reprehensible intentions. This crystal was not something he wanted to add to any collection.
It was clear, the laird planned to use it to gain power, and by what Iseabail had already told him, he imagined part of that was going to involve a possible takeover of her clan. Before she had arrived, he had been trying to save his own skin. Iseabail’s quest was far bigger than one man.
“Listen, we’re in this together now, nay matter what happens. What ye are doing is important. And sure, while ye did blackmail me intae coming with ye tae help ye, I’m nay longer doing this out o’ fear o’ what ye might tell me faither if I dinnae.”
Iseabail’s eyebrows rose high on her head and she considered him with a look of bewilderment. “Really?”
Owen nodded. “Really.”
He watched her struggle with that information, her mind clearly confused, while at the same time, looking stunned.
“Is it so difficult tae believe that I want tae dae something good?” Owen asked.
Isabel shook her head quickly. “Nae at all. It’s nae that. I just…” she hesitated. “I’m just blown away by yer willingness tae help me.”
“If I were in yer position, I would want someone tae help me,” Owen said.
And o’ course, it has naething tae dae with the fact that she’s a beautiful woman.
He couldn’t deny that had something to do with it. She was both beautiful and intelligent, not ordinarily the kind of lass he would associate with. He had also come to realize that, while she had been forced to blackmail him at the beginning, she wasn’t the villain he had, at first, thought she was. Her family were being held captive. She had no one else to ask.
She still gazed at him in wonder, and after several minutes, it became uncomfortable.
“Right. Come on. Drink up,” Owen said, nodding to her tankard. “We have a wedding celebration tae attend.”
The place wasn’t hard to find, mainly because the sound of music and the noise and laughter carried across the town. When Owen and Iseabail rounded the hedge that surrounded the field, a great sight greeted them. Tents had been pitched, and a large fire crackled with many people gathered around it. There were kegs of ale piled in different places, with tables set in random spaces.
Off to the side, another group of people danced on a wooden platform that had been erected for the occasion, while children ran and played, giggling and yelling at each other. The music came from three men playing the fiddle, the tin whistle, and the healer sitting as he had said he would be, playing the bodhran.
“Look, there’s Thomas,” Iseabail said in delight.
Owen had already spotted him and nodded. “We should go over and say hello when he’s finished his set. For now, though, let’s go get a drink.”
“How’s the leg?” a woman asked as she poured out two tankards of ale.
Iseabail looked surprised, and the woman grinned. “Naething passes anyone in this place,” she said, nodding in the general direction of everyone. “And o’ course, it had tae be ye. Ye’re the only ones here who are passing through.”
“It’s much better, thank ye,” Iseabail said, taking the tankard from her. “Yer healer is very good at what he does.”
“Och, Thomas. He’s the best. He was born in this village. He kens all the best places tae find his herbs and plants. I dinnae ken what the village would dae without him.”
There were others nearby, and soon enough, Owen and Iseabail were involved in a full-on conversation about everything from village life, to Iseabail and Owen’s clan. They were careful to keep their business to themselves, however. Without needing to discuss it, both of them fended off questions and avoided answers where they could.
A little later, Thomas arrived beside them, and Iseabail beamed a smile up at him.
“And how are ye now?” he asked, looking down at her leg.
He couldn’t see the wound, but Owen imagined it was an automatic gesture that coincided with his question.
“Much better, thanks tae ye.”
