Page 9 of Taming the Highland Misfits
Robert Thomson was staring at Isla in disbelief. Who was this fierce creature, and what had become of his daughter? He was used to the disdain with which she usually treated him, but this… this was different, and as he glanced at the poker, then at her face, which was scarlet with rage, he felt a sudden paralysing fear.
He backed away as blood began to run down between his fingers, then held his hands up in surrender. He was absolutely on fire with rage at both women, but especially at Isla, for she had completely ruined his pleasure. It was not so much the physical delight that he enjoyed, although that was good in itself, but the sensation of power, and the fear and pain he saw in a woman’s eyes as he forced her to surrender to him.
Now he looked at his daughter and realised that if he was ever going to keep on enjoying his ‘little pleasures’ as he called them, she would have to either be tamed or be married.
“You little bitch!” he snarled, still holding his hand to his face. “This is the last straw! You are going to be wed as soon as the service can be arranged, then we’ll see if your husband can knock some obedience into you!”
Instead of backing down, Isla laughed. “Father, you and I know that a forced marriage is not a marriage at all.” She lowered the poker and pointed it straight at his heart, then slowly advanced towards him, forcing him to back up until his back hit the door.
Not taking his eyes off her, Robert Thomson turned the knob and opened the door. “You have not heard the last of this!” he hissed. “Make your peace with it, young lady! You are going to be married as soon as a dress is made ready for you, and you will not disgrace this family any more than you have done already!”
With that, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him so hard that the windows rattled.
As soon as they were alone, Isla rushed over to Maura and threw her arms around her. For a moment, Maura froze, then she relaxed into Isla’s embrace. She was trembling with shock and fright, and as Isla put her away a little to look into her face, she touched Maura’s hands and found them icy cold. She chafed them between her own hands and then blew on them to warm them up.
“Did he hurt you?” Isla asked anxiously as she watched tears gathering in Maura’s eyes.
“If ye mean ‘did he rape me?’, Mistress, no,” Maura answered. “But only because he didnae get the chance, thanks tae you.” She breathed a huge sigh of relief then burst into tears, and Isla held her while she sobbed her heart out, making soothing noises and stroking her hair.
Every time Isla thought she could not become any angrier with her father, he managed to find a way of making her even more so. She had never actually thought of killing him before, but now, she began to turn the idea over in her mind. It was not a serious intention; Isla could not even hurt a spider, but the fact that it had crossed her mind at all made her realise just how much she hated him. She had to get away.
Presently, Maura stopped weeping, and Isla handed her a handkerchief to wipe her tear-stained face. “Better now?” she asked gently.
Maura nodded, but her eyes were still full of sadness. “Mistress,” she said angrily, “he–he had his hands a’ over me. I feel so…dirty.”
“I have heard women saying so before when this happens to them,” Isla observed. “I know you are not really dirty, but perhaps a bath would help you relax anyway. I will ring for one.”
“Mistress, did I dae somethin’ tae bring this on?” Maura asked desperately.
“Maura—none of this was your fault.” Isla’s voice was firm. “My father is a beast. He has tried the same thing with some of the other women too. But his time is coming. I will see to it!”
She rang to have a bath brought up, pretending that it was for herself, and soon Maura was relaxing in warm, herb-scented water. It was something she had never experienced before; her equivalent of a bath was a standing-up scrub in cold water with a little piece of rough soap.
“This is heavenly, Mistress,” she remarked, sighing contentedly.
“Yes, it is,” Isla agreed, smiling. She was trying to put off the dreaded moment when she would have to tell Maura of her plan to leave, but at last, it had to be done. When Maura had climbed out of the bath, dried and dressed herself, Isla gave her a cup of warm mulled ale and sat her down in a soft chair.
“Maura,” she said gently, “you heard what my father said. He wants to marry me off very soon, probably within the fortnight. I have no intention of staying here to marry Iain Crawford.”
“What are ye goin’ tae dae, mistress?” Maura asked, her eyes wide with fear. She had guessed what Isla was going to say next.
Isla sighed wearily. “Maura, I cannot stay here,” she answered. “I will not be abused by that creature my father wants me to marry, and I am tired of being a pawn in his hideous game of chess. I will no longer let him push me around as he sees fit, so I am going to leave as soon as I can. If I do not leave, my father will crush my spirit, and I have no intention of letting him do that.”
“I see.” Maura’s voice was sad. “Then I will have tae leave, Mistress, because I will no’ feel safe here if ye are no’ here tae protect me.”
“I have thought of that,” Isla told her. “I receive an allowance every month, Maura. Believe it or not, it is quite a generous sum, but I have been squirrelling half of it away for a long time so that I can use it to support myself when I run away. I have been thinking about this for years, you see. I will give you enough of it so that you can live with your family for a few months until you find another position. You are welcome to my gowns too. You can sell them, since I won’t need them any more and they will be nothing but a burden.”
“Thank ye, Mistress!” Maura’s eyes were shining. “I dinnae know what I did tae deserve such a wonderful lady tae work for. Thank you.”
Isla smiled again. “You deserve every good thing that comes your way, Maura,” she told her. “But I really wish I did not have to leave at all. It will be a great upheaval, but I have to do it.”
For a moment they sat in silence, each busy with her own thoughts, then Isla stood up. “Maura, will you please help me pack? I want to leave at dawn.”
Maura nodded and sighed. “I will miss ye very much,” she said sadly.
“And I will miss you,” Isla replied.
“Where will ye go?” Maura asked. While she was speaking, she had begun to open drawers and take out some of Isla’s underthings to pack.
