Chapter 7

"Ihave a meeting with Uncle Arran tae speak with him about some papers me faither sent fer him. He sent a letter fer Isabelle as well. I was supposed tae meet her fer tea, but with her not feeling well, I assume that she will nae be up tae it. Would ye mind delivering her me faither's letter while I speak with Arran? I would appreciate it. It might bring her some cheer."

Madden shook his head. "I dinnae wish tae disrupt her rest."

"Please, Madden. I need tae ken that she is well, but ye dinnae want me near her husband and I need tae dae this fer me faither."

Sighing, Madden extended his hand for the letter. "I have never been able tae refuse ye much have I."

"Nae, ye have nae," Keelin smiled brightly.

Shaking his head, Madden left her to speak with Arran while he went in search of Isabelle. He went to her bedchamber first. He hesitated, as he lifted his hand to knock on the door but forced himself to follow through. He expected to have her husband open the door, but instead it was a diminutive clanswoman. "I have a letter fer the Lady Sutherland from her kinswoman."

"The Lady Sutherland is nae here. She has nae been here all morning," the woman answered, eyeing Madden up and down with interest.

"I was informed that she was unwell," Madden replied, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "Where could she be?"

"She was in the kitchens earlier with Cara, but I believe that I heard her say she was going tae read in her maither's auld rooms."

"Who is Cara?"

"She is one of the maids here at the castle."

Madden turned to go, but the woman reached out and plucked at his sleeve. Madden turned around in question. "Aye?"

"If ye are feeling lonely, I would be happy tae keep ye company," she offered suggestively.

Madden shook his head. "I thank ye fer the offer, but I must regretfully decline." He gave her a respectful nod of the head in farewell so as not to hurt her feelings, then turned towards the Lady Ella's former rooms.

As the former laird's wife, the Lady Ella had been blessed with her own bedchamber and an adjacent room that she had utilized for her own ends. This is where Madden found Isabelle. When he entered the room, he was frustrated with her for lying once again. She had made Keelin worry about her well-being for nothing, while she had been up and about the castle doing whatever she pleased. When he saw her sitting there sound asleep, his anger lessened. She looked so innocent and sweet as she slumbered, breathing softly, a book dangling from her fingers.

Removing the book from her hands, he lifted the blanket from the back of the chair and laid it over the top of her. The feel of the blanket must have disturbed her slumber for Isabelle's eyes flew open, and she sat bolt upright. The drink that had been sitting on the table beside her tumbled down and spilled onto the bodice of her dress. The liquid soaked through to the skin causing her breasts to be clearly outlined in the wet fabric.

"Me apologies," Madden murmured as he assisted her in standing up. She stumbled into him, her feet tangling in the blanket as he pulled her upright. The feel of her body, and the sight of her breasts outlined through the wet cloth of her dress caused his own body to come alive with need. His reaction to her made him angry and he took a step back away from her.

"What are ye doing here?" Isabelle demanded to know. She noticed his eyes on her breasts and pulled the blanket up over them, blushing with embarrassment.

"Keelin sent me tae give ye this. It is a letter from her faither." He extended the missive towards her.

Isabelle reached out and took it from him. "I thank ye then."

"She was also concerned about yer wellbeing as we were told that ye were ill," he tried to keep the anger from his voice as best he could.

"I am sorry. It was nae me intent tae cause anyone tae worry," Isabelle apologized, her tone sounding truly contrite.

Changing the subject, Madden motioned towards the book that she had been reading. "That one is nae very good. The man in it is nae man."

Isabelle turned her gaze to the book in question, shrugging her shoulders. The motion caused the blanket to fall, exposing her damp bodice once more. "Perhaps nae, but it is accurate tae life. Men are often nae as they should be."

Madden was not certain why her words caused him to react the way that it did, but he lashed out without thought. "Perhaps ye should read a book about an unfaithful wife if ye wish tae read something that reflects life as it is."

Isabelle's head swung back towards him, her eyes piercing his. "How dare ye speak tae me in such a manner! We had an agreement," Isabelle hissed at him angrily.

"We agreed that I would nae say anything tae yer husband or any other person in the clan. We did nae agree tae never speak of it again betwixt ourselves."

"I have done nothing tae deserve yer disrespect. Ye have nae right tae judge me fer what I did." Isabelle's eyes flashed with fire, causing him to desire her all the more.

His desire for her only served to further fuel his anger at her, and at himself. "There are other ways tae nae feel pain. Ye did nae have tae lie tae get a man in tae yer bed."

"I did nae lie tae ye. Ye did nae ask if I was married," she pointed out. "I did nae lie tae ye a single time. I have spoken nothing but the truth tae ye from the moment that we met."

She was right and Madden knew it. The problem was, if he admitted it and let his anger go, there would be nothing to keep him from taking her to his bed again.

Nothing but a cruel, angry husband, that is.

"Ye should go and change yer dress. Ye dinnae want people tae see ye in that state. Some men might get the wrong idea about what ye are offering."

Isabelle's eyes shifted down to the bodice of her gown where her nipples stood erect for all to see. The sight of it caused Madden's body to tighten and Isabelle's eyes were drawn by the movement. "Ye dinnae want people tae see ye in that state either," she motioned with her chin towards his erect member. "They will be certain tae get the wrong idea about what we are doing." She arose to move past him, but he stopped her with a hand to her arm.

"What are we doing?" he asked, his heart beating faster with the nearness of her warmth.

"We are doing nothing," she breathed, her pulse visibly fluttering in her throat.

Madden reached out to touch the sensitive flesh. "Soft as a butterfly's wing," he whispered.

"Are ye trying tae provoke me?" she breathed in accusation.

"It is ye who is provoking me." Madden felt himself moving towards her as if another person had taken over his body. Try as he might to resist her, he could not. He was drawn to her as a moth was drawn to the flame of a candle on a dark night. Isabelle backed away until her back thumped against the wall of the room. Madden stood before her taking in the sight of her breasts heaving with every breath. Memories of the night that they had shared flashed through his mind, clouding his judgement with the intensity of his desire.

"I have done naught," Isabelle protested, shaking her head in denial.

"I have seen ye naked and writhing beneath me, crying out me name in ecstasy as ye surrendered yer body tae mine. I would nae say that that is nothing. Would ye?"

Isabelle blushed crimson. "How dare ye tae speak tae me in such a fashion! Just because I chose tae share me bed with ye in a moment of weakness, does nae give ye the right tae speak tae me in such a brazen manner. I will nae allow ye tae disrespect me so in me braither's house." She paused for a moment to catch her breath. "And I did nae cry out yer name in ecstasy." She met his eyes daring him to challenge her on the matter.

"Shall I remind ye?" He asked, moving forward to cup her breast with his palm and run his thumb over her protruding nipple.

Isabelle reared back and slapped him hard across the face. "Go tae Hell, Madden Kinnaird!" Shoving him backwards, she stormed past him and out of the door.

"It would appear that I am already there," he murmured to her retreating back, taking his dignity with her.

"Me wife's braither has refused our request fer the full amount of funds needed," Bain informed Athol, his second in command. He was shaking with fury at the disrespect that he had been shown. "Had I kenned that he would be so tight fisted, I would nae have wed her."

"Can ye nae use the lass against him? Can she nae convince him tae give us the money?"

Bain shook his head. "She claims that there is nothing that she can dae. She says that her braither would never dae anything that would cause the Clan MacKay tae suffer harm. Nor would she. Threatening her with a beating did nae change her mind."

"Perhaps more than a threat is needed," Athol suggested.

"Aye, perhaps, but giving her a proper thrashing while under her braither's roof is nae going tae be easy and she kens it. She has been bolder since our arrival. I may need tae take her tae hand."

"She is yer wife. They cannae deny ye yer rights as her husband."

"Aye, ye ken that, but her braither will nae see it that way. I would nae put it past the man tae try and kill me over it."

Athol snorted. "He may try, but he is nae likely tae succeed at it." He caressed the knife at his side with affection. "If he lays a hand on ye, I will slit his throat afore he has time tae call out fer his dead whore of a maither."

"This would never have happened if Ella had wed me as I wished."

"It was her loss. Ye are better fer being rid of the likes of Rory and Ella MacKay."

Bain shook his head. "At least Ella could have produced me an heir, something that her barren bitch of a daughter has failed tae dae."

"Tae bad ye cannae rid yerself of her."

Bain shook his head. "She is more valuable alive, but only if I can get her braither tae pay up."

"What dae ye want tae dae about the money?" Athol asked, his tone indicating that he was more than willing to inflict violent bodily harm in the pursuit of his laird's goal.

"A bit of blackmail perhaps?"

Athol smiled. "Aye, blackmail should work nicely."