Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

O wen was still trying to figure Iseabail out as they travelled to the village Eden had spoken of yesterday morning at breakfast. Lady Mackay was certainly a wily one, and having already witnessed what she was capable of, he determined to keep a close eye on her.

Not that he was suspicious of her motives any longer. But nor was she one of the usual country lasses he ordinarily associated with. As a noble, she would have been well-educated, but she didn’t just have knowledge, she was clever. It was a rare thing in man or woman.

“How did ye happen upon the village where I met ye the other night?” he asked as they travelled. “What brought ye there?”

“It was the only lead I had,” she replied. “Even without me guards roundabout me, people dinnae want tae talk about the crystal. I dinnae ken whether it is that they are scared o’ it, or something else. Anyway, I finally spoke tae a man who sent me tae these parts. He told me that if I was tae find any more information about it, this would be the best place tae dae it. Clearly, he wasnae wrong.”

“I wonder how he kent?” Owen said, more a rhetorical musing than a question.

“From me understanding, there are far more people who ken about this crystal than I first imagined. But somehow, the knowledge o’ it has been kept hidden.”

Owen cast her a glance and shrugged. “With what it’s capable o’ doing, ye can understand why.”

“Aye, I suppose,” Iseabail replied.

They arrived in the village a short time after that, and tying their horses up, they began searching the stalls of the market as they slowly strolled by. They passed men selling vegetables, and women selling bread. There were cloths, and bags, and knives for sale. And as they continued, the traders called out, trying to sell their wares. They hadn’t gone far, when Iseabail nudged Owen with her elbow.

“Dinnae those necklaces look very familiar?” she murmured from the corner of her mouth.

Owen glanced at them as they reached the stall, and then nodded. “Aye. Similar, but nae the same.”

“Close enough,” Iseabail countered. She then stopped at the stall and caught the merchant’s attention.

“Good day tae ye, sir,” she said. “I wonder if ye can help me.”

Owen watched the man smile warmly when he caught sight of Lady Mackay. He couldn’t blame him. She did have the ability to take one’s breath away. But this man was far older than the two of them. In fact, Owen imagined, with his white thinning hair, and the deep lines etched into his ever-progressive forehead, that he was likely an old age. Perhaps sixty, or even more.

“I will try, Miss,” he replied, the smile parting his lips to reveal a jumble of crooked, black teeth with several gaps.

Nodding to the necklaces he had on display, Iseabail said, “Ye have some fine wares, but I am looking fer something a little more specific.” She turned toward Owen and tugged his necklace from beneath his tunic. “Something a little more like that,” she continued.

The merchant’s smile swiftly disappeared, and looking suddenly nervous, his head jerked from left to right, as though fearing another might approach.

“I’m afraid I cannae help ye, Miss,” he said, lowering his eyes so he didn’t have to look at her. “I think it’s best if ye move on tae somewhere else. Perhaps another here can help ye.”

“Please, sir,” Iseabail said gently, clearly picking up his fear immediately. “We dinnae want any trouble. I’m only looking from where ye got them. Ye’re nae in any danger from us.”

But the old man began shaking his head. “I cannae help ye, Miss. I cannae help ye.”

Owen took three long strides around the table and positioned himself beside the man. It made him jump out of his skin, and in hindsight, Owen’s action likely looked more threatening than he intended, but it was too late now.

“Please, sir. It’s very important that we discover who sold them tae ye. Me maither bought one fer me faither, and he has lost it,” he lied. “He is devastated. Me sister and I,” Owen nodded to Iseabail, “are now trying tae discover where we might find another. Me faither is distraught in case me maither discovers his clumsiness.”

“Ye may remember her,” Iseabail said, playing along with the tale. “A very beautiful woman with long dark hair. She bought three from ye. One fer me braither,” she nodded to Owen, “one fer our faither, and one fer our grandfaither.”

The story seemed to have calmed the man, and a deep frown replaced the panic as he tried to recall Eden.

“Och, aye. I dae remember her. She was a lovely lady,” he said, nodding and beginning once more to smile.

“She is,” Iseabail said. “But she will be heartbroken when she discovers me faither has lost the precious gift she bought him. Clearly, ye have nay more left, but perhaps ye could tell us where we might purchase another.”

“I dinnae ken if that’s possible,” the merchant said. “I bought all three necklaces from a trader, and I cannae say fer certain if he has anymore.”

“A trader?” Owen pressed, trying to keep the man talking.

“Aye. I only met him the once, and I havenae seen him since. He left tae sail tae Burwick on the island o’ South Ronaldsay. Ye ken the crossing is bad up that way. Well, he went that night and he never came back.”

“Och, nae,” Iseabail said, giving a very fine performance of disappointment. “And ye havenae a clue where he might be?”

“Ye might ask at the tavern at John o’ Groats. Perhaps someone there has seen him. A lot o’ the traders are there, fer it’s the closest tavern tae the shore,” the man continued.

“And what kind o’ man might we be looking for?” Owen asked. “Tall, short? Fat, thin? Fair, dark?”

“He’s a little older than ye, and always wears a brown hat with a feather in the side. He has blonde hair, and I’d say he’s tall enough, but wiry with it.”

Iseabail leaned across the table and placed a hand on the man’s arm in a tender gesture. “Thank ye, sir. Ye dinnae ken how much this means tae us.”

“Ye might nae find him, mind,” the old man said, looking as though he hadn’t done enough.

“Even if we dinnae, ye have done all ye can tae help us, and fer that, we’re eternally grateful. In fact, I would like tae purchase that bracelet from ye, fer ‘tis such a beautiful piece.”

“Och, nae, Miss. Ye dinnae have tae dae that.”

“I want tae. Please,” Iseabail insisted.

For a second, Owen thought the man would protest again, and wondered if Iseabail would not compel him to take her money. But as it happened, the man relented, and a few minutes later, he had wrapped the bracelet in soft cloth and taken her coin.

On the way back to the horses, Iseabail said, “John O’ Groats is nearly another day’s travel. We’ll be lucky if we make it by night fall.”

“Perhaps, but at least it’s something,” Owen replied. “Fer a second, I didnae think the man was going tae talk.”

She smiled up at him then. “Aye, that was quick thinking.”

“Aye, well,” Owen smirked, “I’m used tae having tae spin a yarn or two when necessary.”

Iseabail raised her eyebrows knowingly, expressing her lack of surprise. “Aye. I can well imagine.”

They were now at the horses, and Owen cupped his hands together, ready to give Iseabail a lift into her saddle. “What’s that supposed tae mean? Sure, ye dinnae ken me at all.”

Iseabail positioned herself comfortably, and then gazed down at him, a smile dancing at the corner of her mouth. “Yer castle walls have ears, Owen. Perhaps ye need tae be more careful where ye and yer giant friend have yer conversations.”

Still frowning, Owen leapt into his own saddle with no effort, and grabbing the reins, he took control of his horse.

What had she heard?

He was still trying to figure that out when Iseabail flicked her reins and guided her mare into a gallop.

“Hey. Wait.”

He could hear her laughing as she rode away, and jerking the reins to follow her, he smiled a little.

Maybe she isnae just as tightly wound as I first thought.

While he had tried to remain jovial, the previous night had been anything but pleasant. Clearly, she was tired, wet, and uncomfortable, and had not been in the greatest form at all. Only after that dog had scared the living daylights out of them both, did he see a small chink in her grumpy armor.

Sometime in the middle of the night, she had turned over and lay upon him. He had woken at the time, nearly terrified as to what he was supposed to do. Should he move her away? Should he stay perfectly still? Ought he to wrap his arm around her and cuddle her back to keep her warm?

In the end, he had chosen to keep his own arms safely away. That way he could not be accused of trying anything as she slept.

When he had woken again that morning, he had watched the rise and fall of the back of her head, her silky hair draped across his chest, scared to death of moving in case he disturbed her.

No matter what her mood had been the night before, he had to take into consideration what she was going through. Her father and brother were being held captive and she had taken on the task of searching high and low to find the crystal that would save them, alone. Even last night, she had admitted the same. While he had tried to provoke her by calling her careless, he had actually found her explanation unbelievably brave.

She was a noble. She was well within her right to travel with guards to protect her. But as she had said herself, how would anyone open up to her if she did so? And thus, to save her family, she had put herself in grave danger for their sake.

When he finally caught up to her, she was still smiling.

“So, are ye going tae tell me what ye overheard while in the castle?” he asked.

“Och, ye ken what I heard. It appears that everyone kens that ye like the lasses, and they, evidently, like ye back. I can only imagine how many untruths ye have had tae tell tae keep them from discovering each other.”

“That’s only happened a few times,” he defended. “And usually, when one o’ them willnae let go.”

“Willnae let go?” she said, looking a little surprised.

“Aye. They get too attached.”

Iseabail snorted. “Och, dae they now?” Her voice was loaded with disbelief, so much so, that Owen felt he had no choice but to defend himself.

“Aye, actually. They dae. I am the heir tae a great clan, ye ken.”

“Och, I dae ken,” she said, her tone sliding into sarcasm. “And what a catch ye are. I mean, what lass wouldnae want tae be with a man whose bedded all the lasses in the kingdom ‘afore her. It’s every woman’s dream.”

Owen rolled his eyes. “Aye, and I suppose ye’re as innocent as a rose.”

Spinning her head, she glared at him, her expression betraying her astonishment. “How dare ye? I am a lady, and ye shouldnae speak o’ such things.”

As though she had physically slapped him, Owen was stunned at her harsh reply, but realized his mistake. He lifted a hand apologetically, and inclined his head. “I apologize. Ye are right. Please, forgive me.”

Having turned to look where she was going after her harsh reprimand, she jerked her head back to look at him. Owen implored her with his eyes, but Iseabail scowled and turned away.

The damage was already done.

Fool!

For a second, and with the direction their conversation had been going, Owen had forgotten who he was speaking with, and treating her like the many lasses he ordinarily spent his time with, the words had left his mouth with little thought. But she was right. She was, indeed, a lady, and his words had been utterly rude. Even so, he imagined his deduction was entirely on point. Lady Mackay was likely the most innocent woman he knew.

They continued for several hours with little conversation. He imagined it was partly to do with the earlier quarrel, and partly to do with the fact that they were both now waning after their disturbed and uncomfortable rest the previous night.

Let’s hope there are rooms in this tavern we’re heading tae.

Darkness had long since fallen when they arrived at the main village of John o’ Groats, and the wind was bitterly cold as they ventured toward the pinnacle coast of Scotland.

“God, that wind would cut ye in two,” Owen shivered, pulling his plaid tighter around his shoulders.

Iseabail, shivering and huddled into her heavy cloak, cast him a glance. Her nose was red, and her skin pale. “Let’s find this tavern and get intae the heat.”

The Anchorage was not difficult to find. It was also heaving with people. In fact, as Owen pushed his way through to try and speak to the inn-keeper, he feared they would be spending another night out in the awful conditions of mother nature.

“Dae ye have a room?” he said loudly to the older man behind the bar. He had to shout to make himself heard over the many loud conversations of all those around about him. There was music playing somewhere too, which sounded great, but was hardly helpful under the circumstances.

The inn-keeper waved Owen further down the bar and pulled a ledger from beneath it. Flicking to a page, he eyed Owen. “Ye’re in luck. I have one left.”

“Good. We’ll take it,” Owen replied quickly, nearly worried that someone might come up the back of him and nab it before he had a chance.

“Just the one night?” the inn-keeper asked.

“Aye. Fer now, at any rate.”

A minute later, Owen had the key to the room tightly in his grasp, and battling through the bodies, he found Iseabail surrounded by many men, all giving her much of their attention. She was handling herself well, and knowing what she was capable of, Owen wasn’t exactly worried, but he did feel something else. A feeling that he didn’t experience very often.

Are ye actually jealous?

And examining the feeling, he realized that he was.

Huh!

He waved a hand to catch Iseabail’s attention, and upon seeing him, she excused herself and moved through the crowd toward him.

Owen bent down near her ear and she leaned in closely so that she could hear his words over the surrounding noise. “We were lucky.” He jingled the key. “We got the last room.”

“Oh, thank all the gods fer that. I dinnae think I could have done another night in an abandoned cottage.”

Following the inn-keeper’s instructions, Owen led the way to their room. It was on the top floor, in the attic space, which, Owen thought, served them better, for the higher they went, the less noise they could hear from the tavern itself.

A large fire blazed in the center of the room, and both Owen and Iseabail headed directly toward it. “Och, that feels so good,” she said, holding her hands out to the flickering flames.

“I will go back down and have food sent up tae us. I dinnae ken about ye, but I’m starving.”

Iseabail surprised him with a smile, especially after the cold shoulder she had been giving him all day. “Well, I’m afraid that’s what happens when ye give the rest o’ the food we had tae a poor dog. But I’m nae complaining. He needed it far more than we.”

“I agree,” Owen said, feeling glad he had managed to at least do something right so far on this trip. “Right. I’ll be back shortly.”

When the food arrived, they ate in silence, more because they were both famished. The thick stew was hot and tasty, and the fresh bread that accompanied it was delicious. Afterward, they took their time sipping at their ale, while once more, sitting beside the fire.

“We shouldnae waste the rest o’ the evening,” Iseabail said. “There are many men down there, though I didnae see any with a brown hat and feather. But he might nae be wearing it indoors. Who kens, maybe the trader is here at this very minute.”

“Even if he isnae,” Owen nodded, “one o’ the local men might kent where we can find him. By the sounds of that merchant, he’s likely tae be a regular traveler through these parts. Someone likely kens something.”

“Agreed.”

“Fine. Let’s finish these drinks, and then go and get ourselves another one downstairs.”

But they discovered, once they joined the rowdy crowd in the tavern, that most of the men that were there, were not actually locals, but travelers, journeying to and from the Orkney Isles. Worse than that, any of those that they asked about the merchant didn’t seem to have any information that might help them. In fact, most of them had neither heard of him nor had seen him.

“This is a complete waste o’ time,” Owen hissed, as they stood together near the wall beside the fireplace.

“I dinnae ken that it is,” Iseabail replied. “There is a man over yonder who looks like he could be who were looking for. He has a brown hat sat beside him, but there is nay feather in it.”

“The one who has hardly been able tae keep his eyes off ye fer the last half an hour, ye mean?” Owen growled.

Iseabail smiled up at him. “Is that right? Good. That will make this all the easier.”

“Nay, Iseabail. This is nae a good idea.”

But Iseabail had already pushed herself from the wall and was making her way across the room to the man. He watched her every step, and then smiled widely when she came to sit beside him.

Owen, who remained where he was, could only look on and grit his teeth.

There’s that feeling again.

He ignored his goading thoughts and kept a steely eye on Iseabail. If that cad laid one finger on her…

For the first few minutes, it appeared Iseabail did much of the listening, as the man seemed to talk on and on. Owen wondered what he might be saying, and not able to help himself, he left his position and maneuvered around the room. He came to a stop a few feet away, hidden behind a group of burly men who were as wide and tall as himself.

“…besides, me room looks out over the ocean,” the man drawled. “Would ye nae like tae wake up with that view in the morning?”

“Ye’re very presumptuous, are ye nae?” Iseabail came back, clearly holding her own.

“Och, ‘tis ye who came over tae me, remember? Surely, I should get a reward fer answering all o’ yer strange questions.”

Owen gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw.

I’ll give ye a reward, all right. It’s right here at the end o’ me arm.

He clenched his fist, imagining what he wanted to do to this man.

“Ye’ve been very kind, but I was looking for someone particular, and clearly, ye are nae him. I’m going tae return and find me friend. Perhaps he has had better luck.”

“Och, nay ye dinnae,” the man spat.

Owen caught the man grabbing Iseabail’s wrist, and could no longer help himself.

“Hey,” he yelled, pushing himself through the crowd of men.

“Ye will let go o’ me now,” Iseabail said.

The man released her immediately, but Owen didn’t care. He had laid his hand on a woman who clearly was not interested in him. He wasn’t getting away with that. Pushing the table aside, he grabbed the man by his tunic and pulled him to his feet.

“What the bloody hell dae ye think ye’re doing?” he spat.

“Get yer hands off me before I knock those teeth o’ yers down yer throat,” the man bellowed back.

“I’d like tae see ye try,” Owen spat.

“Ye’re a whippet,” the man growled. “I’ll put ye on yer back in one strike.”

“Prove it,” Owen yelled, and turning on his heels, he dragged the man through the crowd, who had long since quieted at the row, and who now parted to let them through.

“Owen?” Iseabail cried.

But Owen ignored her plea. He was far too angry to listen to her in that moment. Rage danced in every fiber of his being. No man had the right to put an unwanted hand on a woman. This bully needed to learn a lesson, and Owen was just the man to do it.

As they spilled out onto the cobbled street, the crowd followed, and without giving the man a chance to think, Owen swung his fist and caught him across the jaw.

Cursing at him, the man came back, his arms swinging, but his direction was obvious with each attempt. So obvious, that Owen was able to avoid his blows with ease while returning a swift strike of his own before the man knew what had hit him.

The men and women who had gathered around yelled at the tops of their voices, and a whole cacophony of sound rung throughout the entire street. It was nothing but encouragement for Owen, who felt alive and filled with energy as the fight continued, though it was evident, the man could clearly talk better than he could fight.

After several more moments, the man’s knees buckled, and though the opportunity lay wide open for Owen to strike him so hard he would not rise again, he controlled his temper, held back his fist, and instead, only sneered at him.

“Put me on me back, will ye? Aye. Ye cannae even stand on yer own two feet. In future, keep yer damned hands tae yersel’. Dae ye hear?”

The man remained kneeling, and breathless and bloody; he could only swipe an exhausted hand in Owen’s direction. Then a huge cheer went up from the crowd, and welling with pride, Owen thrust his two arms in the air in victory. It felt just like those fights he had won in the taverns. And this was yet another victory.

Turning back towards the tavern, Owen was enjoying the accolades and pats on the back from those he passed when he suddenly caught sight of Iseabail standing near the doorway of the tavern.

She was not smiling, nor was she happy that he had taught that piece of dirt a lesson. And she did not look as though she were about to congratulate him. In fact, her face looked like thunder, and in that second, Owen knew he had messed up.

Again!