Page 85 of Sins of a Scot
The laird glared at her with such animosity, Owen readied himself to launch forward, for he feared the man was about to strike her.
“Fine,” he growled, clearly not at all pleased.
“Ye have tae swear it in front o’ these witnesses,” Iseabail pressed, gesturing to all present.
“I swear it,” he roared. “Now, get on with it.”
With a timid glance toward Owen, Iseabail said, “We agreed that I would find the crystal fer ye, and,” she hesitated a beat, “… and marry ye, if ye promised tae leave me family and me clan alone.”
At her words, three different things occurred all at the same time. Laird Mackay and Keane both yelled out protestations, Laird Sutherland grinned from ear to ear, and Owen’s jaw fell open in utter astonishment.
Gasping in a great breath, it took all his strength not to step back, for if someone had punched him in the gut, he would not have felt anymore unbalanced than he did in that second. Shehad kept this from him for the entirety of their time together, and so numb was he now, that not one thought passed through his mind.
“Nay! Nay, Iseabail,” Laird Mackay screamed. “Ye willnae marry this madman. I willnae allow it. Get away from her. I will never let ye marry her. Never. I will die first…”
All the while Laird Mackay ranted like a madman, Owen could only gawk at Iseabail as his world fell apart around him. They had spent so much time together, she had told him she loved him. He hadn’t doubted it then, and even now, he knew that her feelings were true. But all this time, she had kept this part of her deal with Laird Sutherland a secret. The future he had imagined they might share together, the future he had never desired with any other, was crushed, decimated, burned to ashes, all the things he felt his heart experience at that very moment.
And she had known the whole time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Standing helplessly as her father continued to lambast Laird Sutherland, Iseabail could only look with utter hopelessness at Owen, who looked utterly devastated. Perhaps she had made the wrong decision. Perhaps she ought to have told him long before, when she had had a chance to explain the circumstances properly.
It is too late fer that now.
Indeed, it was, and while the sick feeling in her stomach expanded, and her heart physically pained her, she wished she could take back her words. She wished she could grab her family and Owen and run from the castle. But they were trapped there now, and she had no doubt at all that Laird Sutherland would never release her.
“Silence,” Laird Sutherland barked.
Stepping towards her father, the laird looked him directly in the eye and lifted his hand. Though he was many feet away, her father yelled out in pain, grasping at his throat as though he were being choked.
“Stop it!” Iseabail screamed. “Stop it. Ye’re going tae kill him.”
But the laird did not relent, and she watched as her father, going redder and redder in the face, fell to his knees as though he were actually dying. Keane grabbed hold of him, yelling in panic, while Iseabail continued to scream for the laird to stop.
“Ye’ve got what ye wanted,” she shrieked. “Let him go.”
“Where is the crystal?” the laird demanded.
“We dinnae have it here,” she cried. “We hid it so ye would keep yer part o’ the bargain.”
“Where is it?” he demanded again.
“I will tell ye. Just let him go,” Iseabail shrieked.
But Laird Sutherland did not release his power, and suddenly, Owen launched across the room and punched the laird in the side of the head, knocking him off balance. As Laird Sutherland stumbled backwards, his eye no longer on her father, the connection was broken, and Laird Mackay suddenly fell into a fit of coughing, as though released from being choked.
Laird Sutherland turned and glared at Owen, his face red with rage. Lifting his hand toward him, he tried to use his power against him, but to the laird’s utter shock, Owen continued forward, showing no sign of pain at all.
Iseabail felt relief wash over her.His necklace is protecting him, thanks be tae the gods.
As Owen raised his fist again, the laird bellowed to the guards, stepping back and out of his reach. The guards came running across the room, but Owen was ready for them. He fought valiantly and was clearly winning the battle, when Laird Sutherland grabbed hold of Iseabail, and looked her directly in the eye.
Suddenly, she screamed in agony as pain she had never before known racked through her stomach. It felt as though she were being stabbed over and over with a dagger.
“All right. All right,” Owen yelled, raising his hands in surrender. “Just let her go.”
Breaking eye contact with Iseabail, the laird spun to glare at Owen.
