Page 40 of Taming the Highland Misfits
Iain’s and Alec’s house was only a stone’s throw away from the tavern, and Isla did what she had planned and locked the bedroom door firmly, with the key left in the keyhole and a chair wedged under the handle. When the time was right, she moved the chair and unlocked the door. The click of the lock made the hair on the back of her neck prickle, since it sounded unnaturally loud in the hush of the night.
However, she tiptoed along the corridor and downstairs quite noiselessly, then unbarred the back door, again starting at the sound of the wood scraping against it. Every little noise sounded like a thunderclap in the still of the night.
Finally, she took a step outside. She did not have to wait more than a few seconds before Finley appeared. The darkness was only relieved by the light of a half moon, and Isla could hardly make him out, but when she was pulled into his arms a moment later she knew it was Finley. The feel of his embrace, the scent of his skin, even the rhythm of his breathing, were as familiar to her as her own image in the mirror. She could have picked him out of a thousand men with her eyes closed.
“Finley,” she whispered, with a deep sigh of relief.
“Are ye a’ right, Isla?” he asked. “Tell me that swine didnae lay a finger on ye!” His voice was a low growl.
Isla shook her head. “No, I am fine,” she replied. “Just very glad to see you.” She looked up at him, just about able to make out his features in the darkness. “Iain has shown me where his gold is. He keeps it in the beer cellar, hidden in a small wine barrel. I lifted it and it’s surprisingly heavy.”
“I cannae believe it!” Finley cried excitedly. “He only just met ye an’ he showed ye his treasure? The man is an eejit!” Then he laughed out loud, pulled Isla against him and kissed her.
She gave a little gasp of surprise, then felt her knees weakening as the kiss became harder and more passionate. She could feel her body responding to his nearness again, but knew that it was not the right time or place, so she pushed him away gently.
“I’m sorry, Isla,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. “But I am happy that he made it sae easy for us.” Then he thought for a moment. “Did ye say it was light enough for ye tae lift, Isla?” he asked, frowning.
She nodded. “I nearly dropped it, though. I was able to lift it, but only just.”
“I am surprised ye could lift it at a’.” Finley said thoughtfully.
“You sound surprised,” Isla observed.
“I am.” He sounded puzzled. “A woman shouldnae be able to lift even half a wee barrel o’ gold coins—they are very heavy—so either there is only a totie wee bit in there or the coins arenae gold.”
“I see.” Isla was thoughtful. “So what should we do?”
“You will have tae get the secret o’ where the rest o’ it is fae Iain.” Finley was grim as he contemplated what Isla would have to do to get the information out of him.
Isla swallowed nervously, but nodded. “I will try to speak to him at breakfast. We will be in the kitchen with the cook then, or in the bar. It takes him a long time to eat, because he eats so much.” She gave a little half hearted laugh.
Finley heard the fear in her voice, and once more pulled her into his embrace. “He willnae hurt ye as long as I am here tae stop him,” he said firmly. “An’ I will always be as close as I can, Isla.”
She looked up into his face, and he placed a soft kiss on her lips, then another on her forehead before he let her go.
“I will wait here for a wee while,” he whispered, before disappearing into the shadows.
Isla turned and went into the tavern again, then locked the door behind her. However, she had no sooner taken a step forward to go upstairs when she heard a gravelly voice in front of her saying: “Isla Thomson, is it no’? What are ye doin’ down here at this time o’ night?”
Isla could not speak for a moment. She was paralysed by terror. The owner of the snake-like voice was closer now; she could feel his presence only a few feet away from her, even in the silent darkness. Eventually she managed: “I was getting a breath of fresh air.” It sounded feeble, but it was the only excuse she could come up with on the spur of the moment.
“Isla, do ye not know who I am?” the voice went on, and Isla could hear the sneer in it. It was Alec Crawford, of course. She had heard him shouting many times before, mostly when he was kicking drunkards out of the tavern.
“Mister Crawford?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Call me Alec,” he replied. “Nae need tae be formal, hen. We are goin’ tae be family soon. I will be your father-in-law. How does that sound?”
‘Absolutely horrifying,’Isla thought. Aloud, she said: “I look forward to it, Alec. Now, if you will excuse me, I must have some rest. I have a busy day tomorrow.”
“I am sure ye do,” Alec agreed. “But surely ye would have a wee drink wi’ me tae celebrate your wedding?”
“I will celebrate it on my wedding day,” Isla told him as calmly as she could. She was still terrified, but anger was rising to the surface now too. “Now—if you will excuse me -” She tried to push past him, but he grabbed her arm.
“One wee dram will no’ dae ye any harm.” This time there was a definite threat in Alec’s voice, and Isla decided that it would be easier and quicker to comply with his wishes. Finley had shown her the moves to make should she find herself in trouble, and perhaps he would be a useful source of information.
She took a step forward to follow him, but instead of empty air, Isla collided with Alec’s hard body. Unlike his son, he was wiry and strong, and when he hugged her, his grip was so tight that he pinned her arms to her body, rendering them useless. She was too close to him to knee him in the groin, and could not hook her fingers up his nostrils or poke him in the eyes. Neither could she stamp on his feet, because he had positioned himself with his legs on either side of hers so that she could not reach them.
She was effectively helpless, but she could still scream, so she did, as loudly and shrilly as she could.
