Page 18 of Sins of a Scot (Bound by a Highland Curse: The Morgan’s Clan Stories #7)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I seabail woke the next morning, wrapped in Owen’s arms. Her head, which rested upon his naked chest, rose and fell with his shallow breathing as he still slept. As she remembered their wonderful night in front of the fire, a soft smile danced on her lips, and her stomach flipped at the sensations and pleasure he had evoked from her. Sensations she had never before experienced, and had not known her body was capable of.

But as his words returned to her, the smile slowly waned, and her thoughts moved to a darker place. A place where she reminded herself of what Laird Sutherland demanded. Her hand in marriage. While last night she had been lost in euphoric moments that she would internalize for the rest of her life, she had to consider her family.

If she refused to marry Laird Sutherland, surely her father and brother would pay the price. She could not live with that thought, and yet, nor could she imagine her life without Owen in it.

I should tell him.

Nay. Ye shouldnae. It will break his heart.

But surely, he needs tae ken.

But as her mind reasoned right from wrong, her heart once again, halted her.

Ye dinnae ken how this is going tae play out. Besides, dae ye really want tae ruin the little time ye might have together?

Indeed, she did not. It might be her last chance for any semblance of happiness. She could not have imagined their journey would bring about what they had shared, what her heart now felt, how much he meant to her. And their journey was far from over. No. She would listen to her heart. She did not want to waste the little time she might have left with him, nor could she bear seeing the pain he would suffer at her words.

When Owen eventually awoke, sometime later, he pulled her into him and softly kissed the top of her head.

“Morning,” he growled.

Even the depth of his voice now made her body react as though he were a puppeteer and she a marionette. Eliciting excitement through her as he pulled at the strings of her heart and beyond.

Turning her head up to him, she smiled widely.

“Hi.”

Owen gently pulled her up his body so her face was close to his, and raising his lips to hers, he kissed her tenderly. When he pulled away, Iseabail found herself lost in his gaze, and once again mesmerized. Even the turmoil she had battled internally earlier seemed to slip away.

“How are ye feeling?” Owen asked.

“If ye mean am I fit tae continue on, then aye. I’m fine.”

“I’ll admit,” he nodded, “ye look a lot better now than ye did when we arrived yesterday.”

“Maybe that has something tae dae with how well ye looked after me,” she replied with a gentle smile. “I still cannae believe that ye saved me life.”

“I told ye last night. I’m nae going tae lose ye, Iseabail. Nor am I going tae let ye go. In fact, from here on out, I’m nae letting ye out o’ me sight.”

Those words, as wonderful as they were, pained Iseabail greatly, and pushing herself off him, she hid her despair by sitting up and turning her back to him.

“While I would love tae lie beside ye fer the rest o’ the day, we ought tae get moving. We have tae travel tae the other side o’ the island and try and find this woman.”

“I agree. While ye dress, I’ll go down and ask the innkeeper if he kens anything about the merchant or where he might have travelled while he was here.”

Once Owen had left the room and Iseabail was left alone, her feigned easiness fell from her as she once more, thought of what lay ahead. Her father and brother were the most important people in the world to her, and she could not let her selfish desires be the reason for their death, for she had no doubt, Laird Sutherland would keep his promise.

She wanted so badly to be able to tell Owen the truth, and yet, as she had concluded earlier, there was much they yet had to go through together before she could return to the laird with his prize. It would be better to hold onto what she knew, for what they had yet to do was going to be difficult enough.

When Owen returned to the room, Iseabail was dressed and ready to leave.

“I have good news. The innkeeper kent exactly who I was talking about, and has told me the location o’ the woman we seek.”

“How far is the journey? Will we get there by nightfall?”

Owen nodded, expressing certainty. “Och, aye. ‘Tis only three or four miles.”

“Good. Then let’s go.”

They had been trekking over glens for just over an hour, when Owen pointed ahead.

“There,” he said. “That’s the woman’s cottage.”

“How can ye ken?” Iseabail frowned.

“The innkeeper said that I wouldnae be able tae miss it. That it was the only cottage in this area with a trellis up either side o’ the door. That has tae be it.”

Sure enough, the cottage ahead did have roses climbing up the trellis on either side of the front door, and thus, the two continued on, Iseabail with a renewed hope that she would, at last, find some answers to where she might find this crystal.

“Who are ye?” the woman said, after they had knocked on the heavy wooden door.

Her long dark hair was tied in a bun on her head, and suspicious eyes peered out at them. She looked to be a woman in her forty years, and by the wrinkles on her face, time had not been kind to her.

“Good day tae ye,” Iseabail began. She and Owen had already decided it should be Iseabail who spoke to her, thinking it might be less intimidating given she was a woman. “We have travelled far in search o’ ye. I am truly hoping ye can help us.”

The scowl remained on the woman’s face, and she grunted. “What is it that ye want?”

“We were told a merchant came tae ye and might have traded some crystals,” Iseabail said.

As the door closed even further, showing her reticence to converse, the woman said, “I dinnae ken what yer talking about.” Gone was the suspicion now. Instead, the woman looked fearful.

“We’re nae here tae cause ye trouble,” Iseabail said gently. “We ken that the merchant who came tae see ye is dead, and that ye had naething tae dae with that. I am only trying tae discover where he sourced the crystals he sold tae ye.”

The woman still looked fearful, and eyeing Iseabail and Owen carefully, she hesitated. For a moment, Iseabail actually thought the woman was going to close the door on their faces, and refuse to tell them anything.

But then, she seemed to come to a conclusion, and said, “I havenae seen him in weeks. But even when he came tae me, I only bought small pieces from him. I cannae tell ye from where he got the crystals because I never asked him, and he never told me.”

Iseabail heaved a disappointed sigh. All their effort had been for naught. The journey across dangerous waters, her nearly drowning, the time they had wasted, was all for nothing.

The woman’s face seemed to soften at Iseabail’s reaction, and she opened the door a little more.

“I’m sorry I cannae help ye. If I kent, I would tell ye. Ye’re nae from the island, are ye?”

It was Owen who answered her. “Nay, madam. We travelled here tae see ye after a sailor told us ye might be able tae help us.”

The woman nodded. “I’m sorry fer yer troubles. Truly, I am. But I dinnae ken where he got his crystal. He was very secretive and was only interested in me trade.”

“Thank ye fer speaking tae us,” Owen said. “We’ll be on our way and will leave ye in peace.”

Iseabail nodded gratefully to the woman, even as the disappointment soaked through her very being, and with Owen’s hand resting gently on her shoulder, he guided her back onto the road.

“I’m sorry, Iseabail,” he said, his voice loaded with sadness.

“Aye, as am I,” she replied. “Every time we think we are close tae discovering something more, we get blocked. It’s like the gods are against us. If I dinnae find this crystal soon, it will be too late. Laird Sutherland isnae a patient man. It’s only a matter o’ time ‘afore he murders me faither and braither in anger.”

Owen didn’t reply, and Iseabail imagined it was because he did not really have an answer to her dilemma. They had followed every lead so far, and yet, after all they had done, they were no closer to finding the whereabouts of this crystal.

Not only that, but they were now back to where they had started. The merchant was dead, the woman knew nothing, and despair raced through her as now Iseabail did not know where she was supposed to look.

Someone somewhere had to know something, but who, and where was she supposed to find them?

“Let’s make our way back tae the harbor,” Owen said eventually. “I dinnae think there is anything more fer us on this island.”

Iseabail nodded in agreement. They had to return to the mainland and once there, they had to figure out what their next move was going to be.

The rest of the journey was made in silent contemplation, at least as far as Iseabail was concerned. Her mind raced with thoughts of her father and Keane, wondering what they might be going through, knowing they were relying upon her alone to free them. It was a great weight upon her shoulders, but she was no longer alone, not that they would know that. She was only glad that she had Owen to help her, for as she thought about it, had he not, she may well have been dead already.

Owen did not speak either, and Iseabail could only imagine it was because he had nothing to say in the way of comfort. Their situation was not quite hopeless, but it certainly felt close.

As they reached the coast, they followed the path that ran along it, and once over the brow of a hill, the harbor and the small village of Brunswick came into view.

“I hope there is a boat available tae tak’ us back this day,” Iseabail said, as they ventured down the track to reach their destination. “I dinnae want tae waste any more time stuck here.”

“Another boat. Fantastic,” Owen growled.

Iseabail couldn’t help smile at his remark. “We could always swim,” she quipped.

“That might be an idea if ye could actually swim,” he returned, giving her a smirk. “Instead, I’m going tae have tae get on another damned boat.”

They were now entering the village, and leaving the grassy terrain behind, they walked the cobbled road that led to the harbor. There were several boats moored up, but only one that seemed to be readying itself to sail, for people were already boarding it, and the sailors were hurrying up and down the deck, clearly getting ready to leave.

“There’s a boat ahead,” Owen said. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back tae looking fer this crystal.”

Iseabail was about to reply when she suddenly felt a strange sensation in her gut. Like they were in danger. Like someone was following them.

Glancing to look behind her, she saw two men walking on the other side of the road. They were only a short distance behind, and both of them appeared to be looking at her. Upon seeing her noticing them, they turned their faces away.

“I think we’re being followed,” she hissed, keeping her voice low so the men couldn’t hear her.

Without looking around, Owen said, “How far back, and how many?”

“Two. They’re on the other side of the road, nae far behind us.”

Owen still did not turn to look. “Are ye certain they’re nae just locals?”

“When I looked at them, they were looking at me, and then quickly turned away.”

Owen nodded, as though coming to some conclusion. “All right. When I tell ye, I want ye tae run as fast as ye can. We have tae catch that boat.”

“But what if they?—”

“Just dae as I tell ye, Iseabail.”

“All right.”

They were still some distance away from the harbor yet, and not able to help herself with the growing worry, Iseabail glanced over her shoulder a second time.

“They’ve got closer,” she whispered.

Only then did Owen turn to look, and upon seeing them, he turned to Iseabail. “We need tae move. Run, Iseabail!” he yelled.

Owen bolted on and Iseabail kept pace as the men broke into a run and chased behind them. The sailors up ahead were yelling at each other, and as they closed the gap, Iseabail was certain they were not going to make it.

“Come on, Iseabail. Faster,” Owen barked.

Her heart thumped in her chest, both from the running and the panic of what was about to happen. They had to get to that boat. They just had to. Automatically, wanting to know where the men chasing them where, she turned to look at them. But it was a dreadful mistake, for in doing so, her foot caught in her dress. Already moving forward at a great pace, she lost her balance, and, unable to right herself, she went flying forward landing painfully on her hands and knees.

The clattering sound of footfalls grew closer and closer, and in no time at all, the men were upon her. Between them, they grabbed at her cloak, spinning her onto her back.

“Argh,” she screamed.

As she panted in panic, one of them clambered on top of her. She saw the flashing glint of metal, and then felt the cold blade of the man’s dagger against her throat. Towering over her, he glared at her. His small beady eyes were too close together, and his lips were pulled thin as he snarled down at her.

“Laird Sutherland is running out o’ patience,” he spat. “Yer braither and faither will meet a dire fate if ye dinnae stop sleeping with yer lover and find the crystal.”

“Get off me,” Iseabail screamed. “Get off me.”

A second later, she heard a battle cry and lifting her head, she watched as Owen launched himself at the man who stood to the side. Pushing himself off her, the other man went to his companion’s aid, and as she struggled to get to her feet, Iseabail watched as Owen bravely battled both men at the same time.

The men were fierce, but Owen was both bigger and stronger, and punch after punch, he fended them off. One flew to the ground and appeared stunned, but with a lucky strike, the other man sliced his dagger across Owen’s upper arm, making him cry out in pain.

Still, Owen did not relent, and swinging his fist, he hit the man clean across the jaw. Like his companion, he went down, and as he stumbled, Owen turned and ran towards Iseabail.

“Go. Go,” he screamed.

Turning toward the harbor, they saw the boat pushing off from the harbor wall.

“Wait,” Iseabail screamed. “Wait.”

But the sailors were too busy yelling to each other to hear her. Sutherland’s men had now regained their footing and were once again on the move, coming after Iseabail and Owen, even as they ran to the boat.

“We’re nae going tae make it,” Iseabail panted breathlessly, panicking as she watched the ship move further out into deeper water.

“We have tae,” Owen bellowed, and grabbing her by the hand, he ran at full force toward the harbor wall, pulling her along with him. In that instant, she knew what he was about to do, and terror washed over her.

“Owen,” she screamed as he launched off the wall, dragging her with him.

They crashed into the freezing cold water below, the impact and cold shocking the air from her lungs.

“Kick yer legs, Iseabail,” he yelled, looking at her fiercely. “Ye have tae help me. Kick yer legs.”

The waves crashed against their faces, and with blood pouring from one arm, Owen held Iseabail up with the other. By his face he was pained by any movement, and yet, he still began taking single armed strokes with his injured arm. Even as he tried to hold her up with the other, Iseabail choked, trying with all her might to kick with her legs and keep herself afloat, at the same time, choking on the water that splashed into her mouth.

The sailors now saw their struggle against the waves, and began yelling frantically to each other.

“They’re in the water.”

“Get them a rope!”

“Man the rudder. Bring her about.”

Iseabail strained to keep her head above water, but as hard as she kicked her legs, she kept sinking beneath the surface. The men’s voices dulled as her ears filled with the water she was struggling to fight against.

“Grab the rope,” a sailor yelled.

Blindly, she threw out a hand, but could not see what she was trying to reach for. The sailor pulled the rope back into the boat, wrapping it around his arm, before throwing it back out toward her. This time, it landed just inches away, and thrashing about her, she grabbed it with both hands.

It was only then that she realized Owen’s grip had loosened, and as she turned to find him, his eyes were half closed and he seemed to be slipping away.

“Owen,” she screamed, reaching out to him.

But he was too far, and a second later, she found herself travelling at great speed as the sailors pulled her in. They moved fast, hand over hand, pulling her closer to the ship.

Three men grabbed at her clothing, and struggling between them, they pulled her overboard. It might have been painful, only Iseabail was too cold and terrified to notice. No sooner was she safe on the boat, than she turned back to see where Owen was.

“We need tae go back,” she bellowed.

“We cannae reach him,” a sailor cried.

Iseabail then turned and looked the man straight in the eye. “We are nae leaving this harbor without him.”