Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T hey dined downstairs and enjoyed a hearty bowl of stew with thick pieces of fresh bread. Owen had been hungry. In fact, he had been tempted to go down earlier and eat, but apart from the fact that it would be rude to eat without Iseabail, he had not wanted to leave her in the room alone.

Thomas had been very clear that she would be fine, but the fact that she had fallen asleep before he had even returned from collecting the horse had worried him. Fine she might be, but clearly, the snake bite had had some effect on her. He had slipped back downstairs for a tankard of ale, and found a book to read, and since then, had been ignoring the growls of his stomach and patiently waiting for Iseabail to waken.

While Owen sipped at his tankard of ale, he watched Iseabail finish her meal.

“How are ye feeling now after yer rest?” he said.

Isabel must have been hungry too because she nodded while still enjoying the pieces of meat in her mouth. When she eventually finished eating, she looked at him.

“I feel much better, thank ye.” She continued to look at him and then said, “Did I thank ye fer saving me?”

Owen smiled. “Honestly, I cannae remember, but ye’re welcome.”

“Then I’ll say it now. Thank ye. I dinnae ken what I would have done had ye nae been there.”

“It was naething,” Owen said, shrugging it off.

Iseabail opened her eyes wider and gawped at him. “It was hardly naething, Owen. Ye risked yer own life tae save mine.”

He snorted a little. “I hardly risked me life. Ye heard the healer. The adder’s venom isnae life threatening.”

“Maybe, but ye couldnae have kent that at the time,” she countered. “Did ye ken it was an adder?”

Owen shook his head. “I didnae stop it tae ask.”

“Then there ye go. That’s exactly me point. So, ye risked yer own life tae save mine, even after me blackmailing ye tae come with me.”

“I was hardly going tae let ye lie there and die, Iseabail.”

Iseabail smiled. “Why nae? It would have gotten ye out o’ this mess I’ve dragged ye intae.”

“I needed the adventure,” Owen quipped back with a smirk.

“Aye, right.” She cast him a knowing look. “When I met ye, I’d say yer life was adventurous enough.”

And she wasn’t wrong. In fact, he would go as far as to say, too adventurous. But what they were doing was different. While he was fighting to pay off nefarious men, Laird Sutherland clearly had far more reprehensible intentions. This crystal was not something he wanted to add to any collection.

It was clear, the laird planned to use it to gain power, and by what Iseabail had already told him, he imagined part of that was going to involve a possible takeover of her clan. Before she had arrived, he had been trying to save his own skin. Iseabail’s quest was far bigger than one man.

“Listen, we’re in this together now, nay matter what happens. What ye are doing is important. And sure, while ye did blackmail me intae coming with ye tae help ye, I’m nay longer doing this out o’ fear o’ what ye might tell me faither if I dinnae.”

Iseabail’s eyebrows rose high on her head and she considered him with a look of bewilderment. “Really?”

Owen nodded. “Really.”

He watched her struggle with that information, her mind clearly confused, while at the same time, looking stunned.

“Is it so difficult tae believe that I want tae dae something good?” Owen asked.

Isabel shook her head quickly. “Nae at all. It’s nae that. I just…” she hesitated. “I’m just blown away by yer willingness tae help me.”

“If I were in yer position, I would want someone tae help me,” Owen said.

And o’ course, it has naething tae dae with the fact that she’s a beautiful woman.

He couldn’t deny that had something to do with it. She was both beautiful and intelligent, not ordinarily the kind of lass he would associate with. He had also come to realize that, while she had been forced to blackmail him at the beginning, she wasn’t the villain he had, at first, thought she was. Her family were being held captive. She had no one else to ask.

She still gazed at him in wonder, and after several minutes, it became uncomfortable.

“Right. Come on. Drink up,” Owen said, nodding to her tankard. “We have a wedding celebration tae attend.”

The place wasn’t hard to find, mainly because the sound of music and the noise and laughter carried across the town. When Owen and Iseabail rounded the hedge that surrounded the field, a great sight greeted them. Tents had been pitched, and a large fire crackled with many people gathered around it. There were kegs of ale piled in different places, with tables set in random spaces.

Off to the side, another group of people danced on a wooden platform that had been erected for the occasion, while children ran and played, giggling and yelling at each other. The music came from three men playing the fiddle, the tin whistle, and the healer sitting as he had said he would be, playing the bodhran.

“Look, there’s Thomas,” Iseabail said in delight.

Owen had already spotted him and nodded. “We should go over and say hello when he’s finished his set. For now, though, let’s go get a drink.”

“How’s the leg?” a woman asked as she poured out two tankards of ale.

Iseabail looked surprised, and the woman grinned. “Naething passes anyone in this place,” she said, nodding in the general direction of everyone. “And o’ course, it had tae be ye. Ye’re the only ones here who are passing through.”

“It’s much better, thank ye,” Iseabail said, taking the tankard from her. “Yer healer is very good at what he does.”

“Och, Thomas. He’s the best. He was born in this village. He kens all the best places tae find his herbs and plants. I dinnae ken what the village would dae without him.”

There were others nearby, and soon enough, Owen and Iseabail were involved in a full-on conversation about everything from village life, to Iseabail and Owen’s clan. They were careful to keep their business to themselves, however. Without needing to discuss it, both of them fended off questions and avoided answers where they could.

A little later, Thomas arrived beside them, and Iseabail beamed a smile up at him.

“And how are ye now?” he asked, looking down at her leg.

He couldn’t see the wound, but Owen imagined it was an automatic gesture that coincided with his question.

“Much better, thanks tae ye.”

“Iseabail slept fer a couple of hours earlier, Thomas,” Owen said. “Is that normal?”

While Iseabail looked a little surprised at Owen’s question, Thomas nodded. “Perfectly normal. Like I said tae ye earlier in the cottage, while ye did a tremendous job o’ getting most o’ the poison out, there will still have been some venom that managed tae get intae her blood.”

Thomas then looked at Iseabail. “Did ye feel better after yer sleep?”

“I did,” Iseabail nodded.

“Good. It was yer body’s way o’ getting rid o’ what shouldnae have been there. But ye’ll make a full recovery.”

“Dae ye have any more tricks up yer sleeve, Thomas?” Iseabail smiled. “Ye’re a healer, ye’re a musician. What else are ye hiding from us?”

Thomas looked from left to right, pretending to be conspiratorial. With a sly grin, he lowered his voice and murmured, “Well, I dae make a mean Elderberry wine.”

Iseabail burst into laughter at his antics, and Owen, though a little distracted by his body’s reaction to the sound, also let out a low chuckle.

“Now, come.” Thomas waved at them both. “Ye must dance.”

Somehow, Owen and Iseabail ended up in the middle of the wooden platform, and with much encouragement, seemed to take center stage as the music began.

After her nervous laughter settled down, Iseabail gazed up at Owen who slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her in closer. She smelled of rose petals and jasmine, and only in that moment did he realize that he had not been this close to her before. Perhaps for a second or two when lifting her down off her mare, but not under these conditions.

“Are ye ready?” he said, his voice sounding a little deeper than normal.

“Nae really.” Iseabail grinned back. “But let’s give it a go.”

Owen nodded, and when the music started, they danced a jig together. He twirled and spun her, bringing her back to him each time. The crowd whooped and yelled over the music, encouraging them on with delighted cries. The smile Iseabail wore lit up her face, and light laughter fell from her lips. For the entire dance, Owen could not take his eyes off her, and by the time others had joined them on the dance floor, Iseabail was gazing back up at him tenderly.

They continued until the song ended, and then, breathless and giddy, Owen brought her back into his arms, and gazed down at her. While all around them were clapping and whooping, he could only look at her tenderly.

Never could he have imagined, that night in his bedroom when Iseabail blackmailed him to go on this quest with her, that he would see her in any other light than a villain. He had imprisoned her, thinking her a threat. Now, the only threat she posed was to his heart.

He had spent a lifetime enjoying the freedom of carefree lasses who didn’t want or need him to be anything other than a bit of fun. For Iseabail, he had been quite the opposite. She had needed him for anything but fun, and yet, no longer bound by her blackmail, Owen found himself wanting so much more than to be the man who could hold a powerful crystal.

He suspected, as she gazed back at him, both of them lost in the moment, that this quest had morphed into something she had not expected either. Serious as death itself at the beginning, she had slowly shown parts of herself to him that she had kept well-hidden before.

Taking her hand in his, he wrapped his thick fingers around her dainty ones, even that simple touch evoking stirrings within him. Her slightly parted lips did little to help either, for all he wanted to do was plunge down on them with his own.

I’ll bet she tastes as sweet as honey.

His groin twitched at the thought of tasting her, and before he allowed himself to get carried away, he broke the moment. This was neither the time nor the place.

“Let’s go and get a drink,” he murmured.

“Aye,” Iseabail breathed.

After grabbing their tankards, they walked a little distance from everyone else. Selfishly, he wanted her all to himself, and though the night was fun and filled with lots of laughter, his feelings were far deeper than mere entertainment. He was about to turn and speak to her, when, from the corner of his eye, he noticed something that looked out of place.

Turning to see better, Owen frowned at what appeared to be a squabble, but the longer he watched the scene unfold, the clearer things became.

“What is it?” Iseabail asked, clearly now curious why he had stopped in his tracks.

“Something is wrong,” he replied a little absently.

He continued to watch as a much older man seemed to be encouraging a much younger lass to go with him. It was clear, as she shook her head and tried to move away from him, that the lass wanted nothing to do with him.

But the man was not taking no for an answer, and a second later, he lunged forward and grabbed the girl by the wrist, pulling her toward him. That was all Owen needed to see, and placing his tankard on the ground, he began taking long strides toward them.

“Hey,” Owen called out. “Hey, ye.”

The man jerked his head and then glared at Owen, but even as the lass struggled to free herself, the man did not release his grip.

Owen hurried his pace as the man turned and began walking away. Breaking into a run, he was eager to catch him before they disappeared from his sight. The girl clearly looked terrified, and Owen’s stomach churned as he thought about the young lass he had saved only a couple of months before.

The man continued to flee with the girl stumbling behind him, but trying to drag her along only slowed him down, and Owen easily closed the gap between them. Now only a few feet away, he called out.

“I’m talking tae ye,” he spat at the man’s retreating back. “Let go o’ her. It’s clear as day she doesnae want tae go with ye.”

But the man seemed determined, and perhaps, more than a little drunk.

“Bugger off. This isnae any o’ yer business,” he spat back over his shoulder

“I’m about tae make it me business,” Owen barked, keeping pace with the man. “Let her go ‘afore I make ye regret it.”

As though by ignoring him Owen might suddenly disappear, the man continued on, but Owen was growing tired of the chase, and reaching a long arm forward, he grabbed the man’s shoulder and spun him around.

The girl spun with him, nearly tumbling to her feet.

“Get away from us. This is me lass. Go and get yer own,” the man slurred.

“Are ye all right?” Owen said, looking at the trembling girl.

She shook her head, evidently too terrified to speak.

“Let her go now. It’s clear she isnae in agreement tae going with ye.”

The man took two long, drunkenly confident strides toward Owen, even though Owen stood head and shoulders above him.

“Make me,” he spat, his breath stinking of ale.

Owen clenched a fist and readied himself to throw a mighty punch. This piece of scum needed to be taught a lesson, and clearly, talking to him wasn’t working. Behind him, he heard thudding footsteps approach, and a second later, Iseabail was by his side.

“Owen,” she hissed, “this isnae the way.

The man sneered. “Och, it looks like ye need tae listen tae yer woman. Clearly, she controls what ye dae.”

Iseabail spun her head to look at him, and scowling as she spoke her words, she said, “Let go o’ the lass this instant.”

The man blinked at her, and immediately released his grip on the girl.

Iseabail looked at the frightened lass and nodded. “Go. Go now, and find yer family.”

Without hesitation, the girl turned on her heels and ran back to the crowd of villagers. Iseabail then turned her attention back to the drunk.

“And ye, ye vile man. Ye go home and sleep it off. Ye’ll forget about the lass, and ye’ll forget ye ever met us. Go. Be on yer way.”

The man blinked again, and without a word, he turned away from them, heading out of the field, and in the direction of the village.

Only when he was far enough away to satisfy her, did Iseabail turn to look at Owen. She shook her head in disbelief. “God, ‘tis like trouble comes out tae find ye.”

Owen shrugged, and feeling the need to defend himself, he said, “What did ye want me tae dae? The lass was clearly in trouble. I couldnae just ignore it.”

“Aye, I ken that,” she sighed.

They walked back to where they had left their tankards, and, finding a thick log that had long been cut down, they settled themselves onto it. While Iseabail watched the celebrations from afar, intrigued at what was going on, Owen was far too busy gazing at her.

Smiling, but not moving the direction of her gaze, she said, “Ye’re going tae bore a hole intae me skull if ye keep staring at me. What troubles ye?”

Owen shook his head. “Naething troubles me. In fact, I’ve been thinking about yer gift.”

She looked at him then, her eyebrows slightly raised. “Aye, and, what about it?”

“Well, I’m curious,” he shrugged. “I’ve never met someone with a gift as powerful as yers. I want tae ken what it feels like.”

“What what feels like?” Iseabail frowned.

“When ye compel someone,” he replied, shifting his leg over to straddle the log, so he could face her full on. “I want tae ken what it feels like tae be compelled by ye.”

Iseabail gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes sparkling as they reflected the firelight from the village’s activities. Her beauty truly was beyond comparison, for Owen could not think of another he had met that was more striking.

Or perhaps, ye are biased.

Indeed, he likely was.

After a while, she shook her head. “It’s nae something tae be played around with, Owen. Me gift is powerful, and I use it only when I have tae.”

But as Owen slipped off his necklace and placed it in the grass beside his feet, her eyes grew wide.

“What?” he said.

Iseabail glanced down at it, and then looked back at him. “Well, it’s just, without that crystal, ye have nay protection.”

“And?” he pressed, a smile dancing at the corner of his mouth.

She still looked astonished. “I just didnae realize how much ye trusted me.”

Owen felt a little surprised at her words. “Why the devil wouldnae I trust ye, Iseabail? Ye’ve never given me any reason nae tae.”

“I blackmailed ye tae be here, remember?”

Owen shook his head. “I thought we’d discussed that. I’m here by me own free will. There’s naething holding me here but the importance o’ yer quest.”

Iseabail still looked full of doubt, and for a long second, they shared a gaze. Owen did not look away, even for a second, and finding himself a little lost in her eyes, it was only Iseabail’s words that pulled him out of his trance-like state.

“Are ye sure?” she pressed, the lines on her brow furrowing in concern.

“Well, as long as ye dinnae compel me tae strip off and run around this place naked,” he joked.

Iseabail laughed then. “I promise. Naething like that.”

“Very well. Then aye. I’m sure. Come on. Face me, so ye can look me in the eye properly.”

Iseabail copied Owen’s earlier movement and throwing her leg over the huge log, she straddled it. Looking him directly in the eye, she said, “Ye must drink something.”

Immediately, Owen felt a desperate thirst come upon him, and he grabbed his throat, feeling like he hadn’t drunk for days.

“Wow, that is powerful. I thought I would simply feel like I had tae obey, but ye actually make me feel thirsty.” And still feeling the desperate need to quench his thirst, he grabbed his tankard and downed the rest of his ale.

Feeling impressed by her powers, Owen said, “That is definitely some gift ye have.”

She smiled warmly. “Did ye nae believe me?”

He nodded. “Och, I did. I just didnae realize the strength o’ it.”

“Well, now ye ken what it feels like.” She nodded down to his necklace. “Put the crystal back on.”

Owen smirked at her. “Why? Does it mak’ ye nervous when I’m nae wearing it?” He was mocking her a little bit, but she didn’t seem to mind.

She nodded with light laughter. “I’d just feel better if ye put it back on.”

“I want another try. Only this time, ye must compel me tae dae something I already want tae dae. I want tae ken the difference between compulsion and desire. It may prove useful in the future. I didnae feel thirsty when ye compelled it, but what if I had been thirsty already?”

At first, she looked a little wary, but then, she sighed, as though appeasing a child. “Fine. Give me something that ye want tae dae?”

Owen looked directly in her eyes, and leaning forward a little, he murmured, “I want tae kiss ye.”

Iseabail’s eyes widened, her lips parted, and a gasp left her mouth. He was certain she wanted it as much as he. The gazes they had shared, the gentle touches, the moments they had been lost together, had not involved just his feelings alone.

She seemed to be on the cusp of agreeing, but then she shook her head. “I dinnae think this is a good idea.”

He knew her reasons, but he was not going to let her get away without challenging them. “What are ye afraid o’, Iseabail? Are ye afraid o’ me?”

Absently, she shook her head. “Nae at all. In fact,” she looked at him softly, “I dinnae think I’ve felt this safe in a long time.”

Owen smiled. “I’m glad tae hear that. I will always protect ye. Ye ken that, dinnae ye?”

She nodded again. “I dae.”

“Good. Then come on. I want tae ken what happens. And I suspect,” he said, his mouth curling into a smile, “that ye dae too.”

She hesitated for a second more, and then finally relented. “All right,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. “Are ye ready?”

Owen shifted himself so he was less than a foot away from her. “More than ye ken,” he growled back.

Her eyes widened at his answer, and then she said. “Kiss me.”

Strangely enough, Owen didn’t feel much different in that moment, for the want of her lips on his had been growing since they had danced. Yet, there was a slight change. He now felt unable to resist his desire any longer. There was an unbearable feeling, as though he might die if he didn’t kiss her.

Slowly, he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, and even more slowly, he lowered his lips to hers. As he imagined they would be, her lips were soft and tender, and as his stomach clenched, he lost himself in the tender embrace. It started off gently, but the more aroused he became, the more he wanted, and when Iseabail lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly to him.

Slipping his tongue inside her mouth, he roved about, the sweet taste making him only want her more. His tongue explored her, lashing against her tongue and teeth, and now panting, he opened his mouth wider as the passion between them grew.

He was breathless, and yet, he did not want to stop. With his manhood now rock hard, he wanted so much more, and yet, he knew that a kiss was all they had agreed. His hands roamed across her back, pulling her into him even further, forcing her firm breasts against his solid chest. He did not want to let her go, his desire for her felt unsatiable. And yet, he knew that he must.

Reticently, he softened the kiss, and slowly, he pulled himself away.

For a long moment, they sat there, breathlessly panting. They could do little else but look at each other, neither able to speak, for Owen certainly had no words. Words would ruin this moment, for there were none that would give any meaning to how he was feeling. He wanted her, he desired her, but the sensation he felt was even deeper than that. He had wanted plenty of lasses before, but this felt different. Different, but by no means unpleasant.

“Perhaps it is time we called it a night,” Iseabail breathed, her eyes flicking across his face, seemingly looking for some sort of reaction from him.

What she was looking for, however, Owen could not know. It certainly wasn’t a reply to what she had just said. Her gaze was too intense.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he replied, his voice loaded with the passion he had felt only moments before.

Reaching down, Owen took hold of his necklace. Bending his head forward, he returned it to his throat once more. He then stood, and offered her his hand.

“Come on. Ye’ve done enough compelling for one night.”

They returned to the tavern in silence. Not an uncomfortable silence, but a quiet that spoke to the depth of whatever it was they were both currently feeling. Reaching their room, Owen felt suddenly nervous as he eyed the bed. After what he had just experienced, surely getting into that bed together was a bad idea.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said.

“Nae, ye willnae,” Iseabail countered. “It will be fine.”

She looked at him as though she were trying to convince him of that, and Owen couldn’t help but wonder if Iseabail was feeling the same nervousness as he was.

“I dinnae mind,” he said.

“Well, I dae,” she replied. She then looked him directly in the eye. “I trust ye, Owen. Just as much as ye trust me.”

And there it was. She had seen right through him, not that he had been trying to hide anything.

When they both eventually settled into the bed, Owen once more remained above the coverlets. With his arms pinned to his sides, he felt more like he was lying in his coffin. Stiff and lifeless. There was not a chance he would fall asleep any time soon, and with that thought, he brought both hands up and tucked them behind his head.

Choosing a spot on the ceiling, he stared at it, but did not see it. His mind was far too busy replaying what had happened. More so, he considered his feelings afterwards, and settling in for a few hours of sleeplessness, his mind whirled with what his feelings meant.

He was a rake, he knew that. There had been many lasses in his bed over the years, but as he lay there thinking, he suddenly realized that from the beginning of their journey together, he had not looked at one single woman with any desire.

How bizarre.

Indeed.