Stolen Vows Read online

  Roan sighed. “I spoke to Ian.”

  “NAE!” Isla said. “I told ye! I dinna -”

  “Isla, we’ll discuss it in the morning,” Roan groaned, raking a hand through his hair.

  “Nae,” Isla insisted, shaking her head fervently. “Nae, we need to discuss it now -”

  “Isla,” Roan growled in warning. “We should go to bed,” he pleaded.

  “But I need to ken what ye said,” she begged.

  If he’d told Ian everything that had gone on between them, then frankly Isla was surprised Roan was still in one piece, but was her brother about to storm into the room and drag her back to Castle Cameron kicking and screaming? Because she wasn’t going to go quietly. She might have made this mess, but she was going to unmake it too.

  “Isla, please just rest,” Roan begged wearily. He really didn’t want to go into what had happened between himself and Ian Cameron - and was prepared to use almost any excuse to avoid doing so.

  Roan had kept details to a minimum, but his brother-in-law wasn’t stupid. Ian would be back to ask more questions once he’d had time to process the tanist’s strange request. What kind of husband asked for his wife to be taken?

  He’d told Ian that irreparable differences had emerged between himself and Isla since they had been married. Ian’s repeated ‘are you quite sure Isla feels the same way?’ had taken Roan rather by surprise, but he had insisted, and Ian had, of course, agreed to take his sister home with him when he left Erchlochy Castle.

  Fortunately, an interruption helped him avoid the subject, in the form of Liane.

  “I’ve come to see if ye wanted supper, sir,” she announced. “And would ye care for a bath, mistress?” she asked Isla.

  Isla seemed to hesitate. He could practically see her thoughts turning over in her head. He shifted uncomfortably, not having a clue what she might be up to now. It was breaking his heart to think of letting her go… but perhaps that was the whole problem? He’d been weak. He’d let someone in. He’d let someone matter.

  “Aye, thank ye, Liane. I think I would like a bath,” Isla said slowly.

  Liane nodded cheerfully, while Roan inwardly groaned. He didn’t really trust himself to remain in the same room while she bathed. He felt his body quicken at just the thought of seeing her naked, glistening figure half submerged in the large tub.

  “I think I’ll -” he began quickly, already heading for the door.

  “Oh, will ye nae stay and help me?” Isla said softly. Roan choked, while Liane made quite a show of pretending not to hear. Roan would have loved to know what his wife was playing at, but couldn’t very well say anything in front of the maid. He sat down in one of the fireside chairs and waited to find out.

  ..ooOOoo..

  Isla wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing either. However, keeping Roan close seemed like a good place to begin her fight to keep him. Isla really didn’t see how Roan expected her to go on without him - she also couldn’t believe that he’d gone to her brother.

  A part of her feared that Roan’s meeting with Ian meant that he was taking the first real opportunity to shed the wife that he’d never really wanted in the first place, but she wasn’t certain. Surely no man could feign the hurt that she had seen etched across his face earlier that evening.

  He seemed to genuinely care for her. He seemed to really believe that what he was doing was for her own good. Well, Isla thought to herself, I will just have to prove him wrong!

  She waited anxiously for the bath to be filled with hot water from the kitchens. It seemed to take forever, but was eventually done. Liane excused herself when she was told that they could mange without her. The maid was quite obviously trying to suppress a smile, which made Isla’s cheeks burn furiously. She wished that she and Roan were happy and in love and about to get up to what Liane clearly supposed they were.

  Of course, that was a part of Isla’s sketchy plan. She was beginning to understand the power that her body had over her husband. She could drive him to distraction with it. His carnal lust was so great that he’d lose control of himself completely. If she could make that part of their relationship perfect maybe he’d want to keep her.

  Isla walked to the tub that Liane had filled and began to pin up her hair. Roan watched, transfixed, as her nimble fingers wove her hair into a braid which she wound around her head and fixed with pins.

  She had changed into a nightgown earlier. Now she let it fall to the ground around her feet in a puddle of pale fabric, leaving her body completely naked and exposed. She cast a coy glance over her shoulder at Roan. He seemed to be intent not to catch her gaze in return; instead he was stared doggedly at the fire. His jaw looked set and there was a muscle twitching in his cheek.

  “Roan?” Isla whispered hesitantly. She didn’t want to make him even angrier, even more determined to send her back to Castle Cameron, than he already was.

  Isla dipped one toe into the water. She gave a little shiver of delight and then sank her whole foot into the tub, closely followed by her other leg. She sank down until she was half submerged in the bath.

  “Do ye need something?” Roan rasped.

  “Could ye help me wash my back?” Isla asked quickly, holding her breath as she waiting for her husband’s answer. He sighed her name, but she could hear him reaching for the soap.

  “This is such a bad idea,” he murmured weakly.

  “Why?” she breathed, leaning forward and offering him her back. She gave a little gasp of delight when Roan’s soapy hands touched her skin.

  “Ye ken why,” he whispered, massaging her shoulders, making Isla whimper in pleasure and arch into his hands. “Because I’ll end up wanting ye so badly that I will nae even be able to think straight, and I ken I canna have ye,” he confessed raggedly.

  “Why canna ye have me, Roan?” Isla asked softly. She twisted in the bathtub so that she could look her husband in the eye. He swallowed thickly.

  “Isla, ye said -”

  “And ye said I was Cameron whore!” Isla exclaimed. Roan winced as through she’d just struck him. “And did ye really mean that?”

  “Nae!” he barked. “Of course I dinna!” he swore forcefully.

  “Well then -”

  “Isla,” Roan groaned, cupping her face in his wet, soapy hands. “Please dinna test me,” he begged. “Or I will nae be strong enough to let ye go.”

  “I dinna want to go!”

  “Tis for the best.”

  “For who?” Isla demanded. “Who is it best for?” she choked. “I want to stay here! I want to be yer wife. I want to have yer children,” she confessed breathless.

  Oh Lord, she sounded so sincere, and every word hacked away at Roan’s fragile resolve. He wanted her to stay. He wanted her as his wife for the rest of his life, but those were all selfish desires that he feared had slipped forever beyond his grasp.

  Roan used his thumb to wipe away a bubble of soap that was on Isla’s cheek as he shook his head. “Isla, ye dinna ken what yer saying, lass, yer still so young,” he said gently. She drew a sharp, hurt gasp, but he continued regardless. “Ye can go home. Ye can be surrounded by a whole clan of people who love ye again.”

  “But - but my home is here with ye,” Isla said passionately, throwing her arms around Roan’s neck, not caring that she soaked his shirt and sent water spilling out over the edges of the bath.

  “Ye hate it here,” Roan breathed difficulty.

  Isla pulled back, “But I’d hate it anywhere without ye. Ye canna send me away!”

  Roan’s body sagged. He couldn’t keep fighting this; he couldn’t keep pushing Isla away, not when she seemed so desperate to stay with him. His arms locked around her body, crushing her against his chest.

  “Do ye mean that?” he asked urgently. “Do ye really mean that ye’ll stay here with me?”

  “Aye!” Isla gasped. “Of course I do!”

  “But - after what I did to ye?” Roan breathed difficulty.

  “Ye will nae do it again.�
�

  “Never,” Roan swore. “Never,” he repeated, pressing his lips to her forehead, and breathing the promise over and over again against her skin. He loved her. He loved her to distraction. He felt properly alive for the first time since that awful, fateful night.

  “Oh Roan,” Isla sighed, going slightly limp in his arms. “I’ve been so unhappy.” She was obviously exhausted, spent, from her exertions and still suffering from the lingering effects of her illness no doubt.

  He shushed her gently. “Twill be all right, lass. I’ll look after ye,” Roan whispered softly, gently turning her around so he could continue washing her body. Isla very quickly relaxed under his hands.

  After working over every inch of her, Roan finally lathered his wife’s thick auburn hair with soap, rinsing it thoroughly before declaring that he had finished. Isla had almost fallen asleep under his gentle care. She blinked up at him drowsily, smiled sleepily and then stepped into the towel he was holding open for her.

  “I think tis time for bed, milady,” he purred, patting her dry. Isla gave a little start, and looked up at him with an uncertain blush that made Roan chuckle. “To sleep, that’s all,” he assured her, dotting a kiss on the end of her nose.

  Isla reddened prettily at Roan’s playful banter. “Aye,” she said softly. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  Roan grinned widely as he pressed another kiss against the top of Isla’s damp head. The past week had been utter hell, but now he felt as though he’d step out of a dark tunnel and into the light on the other side.

  “To bed then lassie,” he yawned, trying to shoo her in that direction, but Isla seemed rather too content to linger in his arms.

  She gave a squeal of laughter when Roan patted her cheekily on the bottom to get her moving. Isla darted out of his reach and poked her tongue out at her husband, before going to find a clean nightdress while Roan began to strip out of his own clothes. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. All of Roan’s other problems suddenly seemed so much smaller now that he had Isla back.

  He’d slipped between the covers long before Isla had finished with her toilette. He watched Isla combing out her hair.

  “Yer staring,” Isla whispered softly. Roan blinked. He hadn’t realized it himself, but his lips twitched and he continued quite unashamedly even now that he’d been caught.

  “Yer beautiful,” he murmured in reply, in explanation, causing Isla’s pink cheeks to flush a deeper shade of red.

  “And yer terrible, Roan MacRae,” Isla scolded, but she was beaming as she finally crawled into bed beside him. She gave a deep, satisfied sigh as he instantly reached to hold her. “I missed ye so much,” she confessed, snuggling as close to her husband as she could possibly manage. “I -“ she started to speak again, but her lips were being suddenly, deliciously, smothered beneath her husband’s own.

  ..ooOOoo..

  Liane was putting the finishing touches to Isla hair just as there was a knock at the door.

  Isla heart leaped. She knew it was ridiculous to think Roan would knock on his own door and he had told her that morning that he expected to be out for most of the day, but Isla couldn’t stop herself from hoping he had returned early as she called out “Enter.”

  When the door swung open, however, Roan MacRae was not on the other side.

  “Ian.”

  Isla’s face fell. She had almost forgotten about Roan and Ian’s talk, but now the memory returned. “What brings ye here so early?” she asked, as innocently as she could manage. The look Ian shot her told her that he wasn’t fooled.

  “Why dinna we just cut to the bit where ye tell me what the hell is going on?” he asked bluntly.

  Isla bit her lip. “Thank ye, Liane, I think that will be all for now,” she said, dismissing her maid. The girl was staring at Ian with the same vacant, doe-eyed expression that most women adopted when regarding the Cameron captain. The fact that Ian did not even take the time to flash one of his charming smiles did not bode well for his sister.

  “Well?” he growled, the second he and Isla were alone.

  “Well wh-”

  “Dinna, Isla!” Ian barked. “Ye ken perfectly well ‘what’.”

  “If yer here about what Roan said to ye yesterday -”

  “Hmm, I wonder if that could be it?” Ian interrupted sarcastically. Isla scowled at him.

  “- it has been sorted out.”

  “Sorted out?” Ian echoed. Isla couldn’t quite understand why he seemed so cross. “Sorted out how?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Roan was under the impression that I wanted to leave Erchlochy Castle. I simply informed him that I do nae,” Isla said airily. “Really Ian, ye should get married yerself before ye start trying to meddle in other people’s affairs.”

  Ian made an odd sort of choking noise, and then he seemed to think it best to simply ignore the latter part of what his sister had said. “Ye do nae want to leave Erchlochy Castle? Are ye mad?” he blurted.

  “Nae!” Isla snapped, and then she smiled dreamily. “I’m in love.”

  “Oh God,” Ian groaned after a moment of silence. “Tis much worse.”

  ..ooOOoo..

  Roan attended to his duties that morning with a spring in his step and a smile on his lips. That fact didn’t go unnoticed. Morag passed him in the castle courtyard and commented upon the change in his humor.

  “Something’s definitely put ye in a good mood,” she simpered, although there was a sullen note to the assertion, as though Morag was bitterly disappointed that she wasn’t the cause of Roan’s cheerfulness.

  “Aye,” he nodded calmly, and then couldn’t resist adding: “my wife.” Just as he had expected, Morag’s lips became very thin and pinched, and the color drained from her face.

  “Yer wife?” she echoed, as though the words left a nasty aftertaste in her mouth. “I thought things between ye and yer wife -”

  “- have never been better,” Roan interrupted coolly.

  He was a little relieved that his sister, Bridghe, happened upon them at just that moment, providing an effective deterrent against Morag. The pretty blonde muttered something about having people to meet and then flounced away, with Bridghe glaring after her.

  “Why were ye talking to her?” she snapped at her brother. Roan opened his mouth to defend himself, however Bridghe didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Oh - never mind; that was nae what I wanted to talk to ye about anyway.”

  “Oh?” Roan said warily. He wasn’t sure that he liked the look in his sister’s eyes. “What did ye want to talk to me about?”

  “Isla,” Bridghe nodded, ignoring her brother’s sudden, dark frown. Bridghe and Isla were friends. Surely she wasn’t about to join the rest of his family and turn against them too? “Eithne’s finally set a date for the feast. She’s timing it for the end of the Cameron’s visit. I want Isla to help with the preparations.”

  “All right…” Roan nodded slowly, thinking that he must be missing something vital.

  “Only, tis yer idea,” Bridghe whispered conspiratorially. Roan frowned, certain that he was missing something vital now. At her brother’s blank look Bridghe rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’m going to tell Isla that ye asked me to ask her to help with the preparations for the feast - to help her feel more included in castle life, ye ken.”

  “And why are ye going to tell her that I asked ye to do that?” Roan puzzled, still not fully understanding his sister’s motives, although he did approve of anything that might help Isla feel she was a proper member of the clan.

  Bridghe rolled her eyes again. “Because everyone kens that the two of ye have had some sort of falling out,” she informed him bluntly. Roan winced. “And while most people are secretly rubbing their hands gleefully -” Roan flinched “- I’m rather fond of yer bonnie wife, and I’m nae going to let ye mess things up,” she informed him, folding her arms across her chest defiantly.

  “Ye ken I am capable of unmaking the messes I make on my own,” Roan muttered sullen. Ha
dn’t he already proven that?

  “Of course ye are,” Bridghe said airily, giving his arm an affectionate pat before darting off - to set her plan in motion no doubt.

  Roan watched her go with a silent shake of his head. He wondered if Isla would actually believe the story his sister planned to concoct for her benefit. Somehow he didn’t think so.

  ..ooOOoo..

  Roan wished that he could have returned immediately to his wife, but he had been ordered to report to Graem. He made his way to the Laird’s chambers completely automatically, not even hearing the various people who called greetings in the hall. He just wanted to get things over with so that he could get back to his wife and enjoy their newfound intimacy.