Page 55 of Sins of a Scot
“Nay!” Iseabail cried.
Owen was so surprised at the strength of her voice that he spun around and gawked at her. Moving around the bed once more, he could only look down at her in bewilderment.
“It isnae poison,” she hissed, now feeling that she wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole.
“How dae ye ken? Look at ye. Ye’re in agony. This isnae normal. We need tae get ye help. Come on.” He tried to take hold of her arm, but Iseabail pushed him away.
“It isnae poison. It’s…” but she trailed off, for she couldn’t even look him in the eye, never mind face the humiliation of saying what it was.
Owen appeared to be getting more frustrated, and ignoring her protests, he came at her again.
“Ye cannae ken it isnae poison, and I’m nae listening tae this a minute longer. Ye’re so stubborn, ye never let anybody help ye. Well, I’ll nae stand by while ye die beside me.”
“Och, fer the love o’ God, Owen, will ye ever give it a rest.”
Clearly, she had no choice. If she didn’t tell him, she imagined he might well throw her over his shoulder and carry her against her will, which would be even more humiliating.
“It’s me courses,” Iseabail blurted, suddenly wincing again at the pain. Though the spasm was once more agonizing, the humiliation she felt seemed even worse, and her face was now ablaze as mortification washed over her.
“Courses of what?”
Dammit, he will make me say it!
“Memonthlycourses, Owen. The courses women have.”
For a second, Owen was completely taken aback and clearly did not know what to say. Of course, the fact that he had made such a drama out of everything, only made the situation far worse.
“Och. Right,” he said, his voice far calmer.
Clearly, he was embarrassed too, for he did not know where to look. His eyes roved about the entire room, anywhere but directly at her.
This is it. This is how I’ll go. “Here lies Iseabail who died of shame.”
For the longest time, neither of them said anything else. Only when the pain returned, did Iseabail do her best to breathe through it, though she could not help but moan.
But then she felt the bed bow, and realized that Owen was now sat a little behind her.
“What can I dae?” he asked. “Watching ye in this state and in this much pain makes me feel completely helpless.”
To Iseabail’s astonishment, he began rubbing her back, and while she would never have asked him to do such a thing, his strong warm hand did seem to ease her discomfort.
“Is that good?”
“Aye,” she sighed. “It is.”
For the next half an hour, Iseabail suffered through more spasms, and entirely surprising her, Owen remained by her side, rubbing her back and telling her that as soon as the sun was up, he would go an find a healer.
She had to admit, it was certainly not what she was expecting. He did not mock her, nor did he appear distressed or disgusted at her current state. Admittedly, Iseabail could not know if this was normal behavior from a man or not. All the times she had suffered her courses before, she had been home at her father’s castle being looked after by her maids.
While Owen had teased her and mocked her with many things over their journey together, her obvious discomfort clearly brought something else out in him. A caring side, for when she suffered her most painful spasms, he shushed her, tried to comfort her, and remained rubbing her back.
Sometime after that, the pain finally died down, and Iseabail spoke to him over her shoulder.
“Thank ye. I think the worst is over.”
“Are ye certain?” he said, his hand remaining in place against her body.
“I am.”
