Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I t was barely light outside when Iseabail woke with a sharp pain in her stomach. Casting a glance at Owen, who slept soundly beside her, she hissed through her teeth, trying to cope with the agony, while at the same time, trying not to disturb him.

Me God, this is excruciating. What the devil is wrong with me?

At first, Iseabail wondered if it might have been something she had eaten the day before. But surely, if that were the case, Owen would be suffering as much as she. She wondered if, given that he was stronger and far bigger than her, that whatever it was might affect her more. She was still confused about her pain when she felt a familiar slick feeling between her thighs, and immediately, with a feeling of utter despair, she understood why she was in so much discomfort.

Och, nae. Nae now.

Another sharp pain spasmed in the lower part of her tummy, and gasping through the contractions, she pushed herself up and bent over. As a low moan left her throat, she hoped her position would ease the pain, but it did little to help her at all.

Beside her, she felt Owen stir, and shoving her knuckle in her mouth, she panted silently, struggling to breathe.

Dinnae wake. Dinnae wake , she prayed silently.

But all the gods seemed to be fast asleep, for her prayers were not answered, and she felt his huge person move in the bed beside her.

Dammit.

“What’s the matter?” he said sleepily. “Are ye all right?”

“I’m fine,” Iseabail hissed. “Go back tae sleep. Ye’re dreaming.”

The last thing she needed was to have to explain to Owen what was going on in her body. She was already humiliated enough, for surely, her clothes would be stained. She didn’t need his disgust or his mockery of her condition.

Of course, he ignored her words, and only sat up straighter in the bed.

“Iseabail. What is the?—”

“Arrgh,” she cried, bending double and unable to stop the loud moan.

“What the devil?” he exclaimed, moving closer to her. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Naething,” she snapped breathlessly. “Please. Go back tae sleep.”

“Are ye injured? Are ye sick? Is it the poison? Tell me so I can get help.”

“I dinnae want tae tell ye. Now please, close yer eyes and leave me be.”

By this time, Owen was now out of the bed, and had moved around to her side. “I cannae sleep when something is clearly wrong with ye. Are ye hurt?”

“Nae, I am nae hurt,” she blurted in frustration. “For the love o’ God, leave it, will ye?”

She could now feel her face redden, for clearly, Owen was not going to give up. Another spasm hit her hard, and bending over double again, Iseabail let out another mighty groan.

“Me God, Iseabail,” Owen gasped, dropping to his knees beside her. “Is it the poison? It must be poison,” he said, and pushing himself up again, he hurried back to his side of the bed and grabbed his boots. Pulling them on in haste, he said, “We must get ye tae a healer immediately.”

“Nay!” Iseabail cried.

Owen was so surprised at the strength of her voice that he spun around and gawked at her. Moving around the bed once more, he could only look down at her in bewilderment.

“It isnae poison,” she hissed, now feeling that she wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole.

“How dae ye ken? Look at ye. Ye’re in agony. This isnae normal. We need tae get ye help. Come on.” He tried to take hold of her arm, but Iseabail pushed him away.

“It isnae poison. It’s…” but she trailed off, for she couldn’t even look him in the eye, never mind face the humiliation of saying what it was.

Owen appeared to be getting more frustrated, and ignoring her protests, he came at her again.

“Ye cannae ken it isnae poison, and I’m nae listening tae this a minute longer. Ye’re so stubborn, ye never let anybody help ye. Well, I’ll nae stand by while ye die beside me.”

“Och, fer the love o’ God, Owen, will ye ever give it a rest.”

Clearly, she had no choice. If she didn’t tell him, she imagined he might well throw her over his shoulder and carry her against her will, which would be even more humiliating.

“It’s me courses,” Iseabail blurted, suddenly wincing again at the pain. Though the spasm was once more agonizing, the humiliation she felt seemed even worse, and her face was now ablaze as mortification washed over her.

“Courses of what?”

Dammit, he will make me say it!

“Me monthly courses, Owen. The courses women have.”

For a second, Owen was completely taken aback and clearly did not know what to say. Of course, the fact that he had made such a drama out of everything, only made the situation far worse.

“Och. Right,” he said, his voice far calmer.

Clearly, he was embarrassed too, for he did not know where to look. His eyes roved about the entire room, anywhere but directly at her.

This is it. This is how I’ll go. “Here lies Iseabail who died of shame.”

For the longest time, neither of them said anything else. Only when the pain returned, did Iseabail do her best to breathe through it, though she could not help but moan.

But then she felt the bed bow, and realized that Owen was now sat a little behind her.

“What can I dae?” he asked. “Watching ye in this state and in this much pain makes me feel completely helpless.”

To Iseabail’s astonishment, he began rubbing her back, and while she would never have asked him to do such a thing, his strong warm hand did seem to ease her discomfort.

“Is that good?”

“Aye,” she sighed. “It is.”

For the next half an hour, Iseabail suffered through more spasms, and entirely surprising her, Owen remained by her side, rubbing her back and telling her that as soon as the sun was up, he would go an find a healer.

She had to admit, it was certainly not what she was expecting. He did not mock her, nor did he appear distressed or disgusted at her current state. Admittedly, Iseabail could not know if this was normal behavior from a man or not. All the times she had suffered her courses before, she had been home at her father’s castle being looked after by her maids.

While Owen had teased her and mocked her with many things over their journey together, her obvious discomfort clearly brought something else out in him. A caring side, for when she suffered her most painful spasms, he shushed her, tried to comfort her, and remained rubbing her back.

Sometime after that, the pain finally died down, and Iseabail spoke to him over her shoulder.

“Thank ye. I think the worst is over.”

“Are ye certain?” he said, his hand remaining in place against her body.

“I am.”

“The sun is up,” he declared, as he pushed himself up off the bed. He then came to stand beside her so she could see him, though she still felt embarrassed even now. “I will away tae find Thomas. If these pains come back, ye could dae with something tae ease yer suffering.”

The following few days, Iseabail had little choice but to persevere the discomfort, though the pain lessened by the day. Owen had managed to obtain some laudanum from Thomas, and thus, some afternoons, she just slept with its heavy effects.

On some occasions when she woke, Owen was not in the room with her, but on the occasions he was, he remained seated by her bed. At times, she caught him gazing at her, at others, he remained, reading a book to himself. But for the time they remained at that village, and for the length of time she continued to bleed, Owen booked another room, giving Iseabail more privacy to deal with her condition.

On the fifth day, her courses were gone entirely. It was on that same evening, eating supper together, that they decided to leave the village early the following morning and make their way back to John o’ Groats. Enough time had now passed, and, according to the sailor they had spoken to, the weather ought to be settled enough for them to travel.

The last few days, however, and particularly when she had been left alone, Iseabail had not been able to help wondering about things that had not been said. For example, the kiss they had shared. She certainly did not want to bring it up, and seemingly, Owen was in no rush to do so either. And yet, she was well aware that something had happened between them.

Iseabail had felt entirely captivated afterwards, and while no words had been said, the gaze they had shared when it was over had spoken volumes.

Of course, she had not mentioned that he was the first man to lay his lips upon hers either. She had felt embarrassed about such a disclosure, fearing that such news might make Owen judge her somehow, or worse, have him ask her why. It was the reason she had pretended, when he made the request to kiss her, that it was of no real consequence, even as her stomach had tumbled.

But indeed, it had been of great consequence, and not only because it was her first kiss.

Her body had reacted in ways she had never before experienced, and all of it had been pleasurable. So much so, she had relived the moment several times in the privacy of her own mind. But with Owen’s silence, Iseabail had begun to wonder if it had meant anything to him at all.

As they readied their horses before sunrise the following morning, Iseabail felt a desperate need to clear the air between them.

“I must ask ye something, Owen,” she said, after ensuring the straps on the saddle of her horse were tight.

Owen looked at her expectantly.

She could already feel the heat travelling from her neck into her cheeks, but she could not keep quiet about it any longer.

“The kiss we shared,” she said. But then she hesitated, for the embarrassment grew too much.

“The kiss ye compelled from me, ye mean,” Owen said, a slight smirk dancing on his lips. “What about it?”

She couldn’t help but wonder if he was making fun of it to cover his own discomfort, but something pushed her on. “Well, we havenae spoken about it since.”

Owen held her gaze, and for a slight second, she saw something flash across his face. But then, it disappeared as quickly as it had made its appearance. “I cannae say I didnae enjoy it, if that’s what ye’re getting at.”

She continued to look at him for another long moment. The truth was, she wasn’t sure what she was getting at. She didn’t even know what she really wanted to discover. Perhaps it had been a mistake to bring it up at all.

“How dae ye feel about it?” Owen pressed.

Iseabail shrugged, unsure of what she ought to say. She couldn’t deny she had enjoyed it either, but whether she wanted Owen to know that, she still wasn’t sure. Besides, if she made too much of it, and he didn’t, it would make her look like a fool. This was now a game of who could be the bravest. But given the fact that they may well be stuck with each other for some time longer, Iseabail wasn’t willing to show her hand. Not yet, at least.

“I dinnae ken.”

Owen nodded. “Then perhaps we ought tae pretend it never happened.”

“Aye,” Iseabail said, sure that he was avoiding the subject as much as she. “And perhaps we can forget about the last few days while we’re at it.”

She blushed just thinking of what they had gone through together, but Owen refrained from making any comment and instead, only nodded.

Once he had helped her onto her horse, Owen mounted his own and travelling into the mist of the glens as they left the village, they began their journey. There was not much conversation as they ventured on, leaving Iseabail to battle with her thoughts.

Pretending the kiss had never happened did not make it so. And besides, she knew he had felt something. It wasn’t just she who had found herself speechless afterwards. Did he truly want to forget about it, or was that just a way for him to avoid having to talk about it? A way for him to hide, like she herself was?

Iseabail couldn’t know without asking him outright, and though she was tempted, she kept quiet. If Owen wanted to forget all about it, then perhaps she ought to do the same. They were on a mission after all. A quest to save her family, for her father and brother’s lives still hung in the balance.

They arrived at John o’ Groats before noon, and headed straight to the harbor. There were several boats docked, and by the looks of the activity surrounding some of them, a few were getting ready to set sail. Clearly, the weather was now safe enough for the boats to travel again.

While Iseabail stood back, Owen went to speak to the sailors to try and discover if he could secure them a place to South Ronaldsay.

He returned to her after a short while. “There is a boat leaving now,” he said hurriedly, reaching his arms up to lift her from the horse.

Iseabail removed a bag from her mare, and while she waited once more, Owen took the beasts to the tavern. No doubt he would pay the innkeeper some coin to have them looked after.

When Owen returned, the two hurried toward the boat. There were ten or so men aboard already, and Iseabail was afforded a few strange looks when she and Owen moved among them. They headed to the stern and settled themselves on a small wooden bench to the side.

There then commenced a lot of yelling as several men untied the ropes that bound the boat to the harbor, another tended to the sail, while the man at the rudder steered the boat into the wind, filling the sail and launching them forward. As the boat tacked out of the harbor, the boom swung from one side of the boat to the other, making the vessel lean heavily to the left.

They had hardly left the mainland when the boat lurched up high, only to come crashing down again as it battled against the tide. Iseabail gripped tightly to the woodwork around her, and only as she turned upon hearing one of the sailor’s yelling instructions, did she notice the perturbed look on Owen’s face.

“Are ye all right?” she gasped.

Owen bowed his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Clearly, he would not be fine, and evidently, he was too proud to admit it. This crossing was going to take several hours, and they had barely left the shore.

“Look at me,” Iseabail said. “Set yer eyes on me.”

Owen lifted his head, and as the boat lurched again, his eyes widened and fear crossed his face.

“Keep yer eyes on me,” Iseabail said, yelling over the crashing waves and deafening howling wind that whipped about them.

Owen finally looked directly at her, and Iseabail nodded. “That’s it.”

She grabbed hold of his hand, even as their bodies were flung to and fro, and not once did she stop from looking at him.

Even as he gazed at her, his frown burrowed with worry. His fingers clasped around hers, his fear forcing him to tense every muscle in his body. The sensations of the rolling ship lasted for some time longer, but the further out to sea they went, the lesser the turbulence was, until eventually, the boat settled into an easy rhythm of rising and falling.

“Ye must think me a coward,” Owen said sometime later. “I have never been a great sailor.”

“Well, ye cannae be good at everything. It wouldnae be fair fer other people,” Iseabail replied with a smile, trying to cheer him up.

Owen had chuckled a little, but the rising and falling of the boat still perturbed him. Iseabail had moved herself closer to him and now gripped onto his arm tightly in comfort. She rubbed his arm with her free hand, and tried to settle him as best as she could.

“When I was a wee girl,” Iseabail said, “me maither and I would spend days in the forest near the castle. She was a great explorer and always encouraged me tae be inquisitive. Back then, there was nay threat from Laird Sutherland. We were free tae dae as we pleased with nay worry.”

She pushed a stray strand of hair from her damp face, and tugged at the hood of her cloak to stop it blowing down completely.

“One day, we came upon a creature I had never seen before. It was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. Maither watched with delight as I went close tae it. Bending down on me haunches, I reached out tae touch it. Suddenly, this thing jumped into the air, terrifying me so much, I fell backwards and landed straight intae a puddle.”

Owen chuckled, and Iseabail grinned. “O’ course, me maither found this quite hilarious, and though me pride, and me bottom was a little bruised, she helped me up and dusted me off.”

“What was it?” Owen asked.

“A toad. O’ course, back then, I was only tiny, and so, tae me, this thing was huge,” she regaled. “And from that day tae this, I’ve never gone near one again. Even now, as old and wise as I am.”

Owen smirked. “Whoever told ye that ye were wise?”

Iseabail grinned. “Och, but I am, Owen, son o’ Madigan Sinclair and heir tae the Sinclair clan. I was wise enough tae get ye tae come with me, was I nae?”

He gazed at her then with a strange intensity. It was the same depth she had seen in his eyes after they had shared that kiss. For a long moment, their eyes locked, and Iseabail found herself mesmerized by him. Owen lifted his free hand and tenderly brushed her cheeks with his knuckles. Her stomach flipped at the sensation. It might have been the lurching of the boat, but she was certain it wasn’t. Eventually, when she could take the tension no longer, she dropped her gaze and looked out to sea.

As the crossing continued, Iseabail found herself snuggling tightly into Owen for heat. Nothing could have prepared her for how bitterly cold it was going to be, and sensing her shivering body, Owen wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer into him. Her head rested high on his chest, and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

At one point, she glanced up at him, and again, he looked down at her with that same gaze.

“It’ll be over soon, Iseabail,” he said.

She only hoped that were true for both their sakes. Owen had struggled so much on this journey, and she could only imagine he could not wait to see dry land again.

“Land ahoy,” one of the sailors bellowed a little time later.

“Oh, thank all the gods for that,” Iseabail breathed.

Pushing herself off Owen, she stretched her neck to see. Peeking through the bodies of the other passengers, and past the sail of the ship, there indeed, was the island they were seeking, and upon seeing it with her own eyes, relief flooded through her. She could not wait to be on land, and find somewhere to get warm, for she could no longer feel her fingers or toes.

The sailors began yelling to each other, readying for the approach when suddenly, the boat seemed to lurch. The sail then lost its tautness and flapped about uncontrollably, which only added to the instability. A great amount of yelling began from everyone on board as the sailors lost control of the small vessel, and from nowhere, great waves crashed across the side, tossing them about like leaves.

“Iseabail,” Owen screamed, grabbing hold of her arm, but as the boat lurched again, she was torn from his grip, flung into the air, and then came crashing down with a painful thud onto the deck.

Thunderous waves washed over her, and Iseabail found herself choking and spluttering, her arms flailing to try and get up as water splashed across the deck, now more than six inches deep. But with the erratic movement of the vessel, she was instead, tossed back and forth, men now falling around her and on top of her.

A second later, she saw Owen, yanking men off her, and grabbing Iseabail’s cloak, he began pulling her up. But again, the boat thrashed, now completely out of control, and Owen fell backwards, while Iseabail was tossed against the side of the boat.

“We’re heading for the rocks,” someone screamed.

“Man the rudder,” another bellowed.

There was utter panic and chaos, and with water in her eyes, and waves crashing down on top of her, Iseabail could hardly breathe. The wind was knocked from her lungs as she was tossed back and forth, and then the boat lurched sideways, and she tumbled over and over, as the boat keeled onto its side.

Still choking in her panic, Iseabail tried to grab hold of something, but as the ship tossed and turned, it jarred her and she found herself flying through the air as though she were weightless. For a second, everything around her seemed to still, then a moment later, she felt herself tumbling, until eventually, she crashed down painfully into the water, and was swallowed up by the raging sea.