Chapter 9

9

O nce the villagers from the other place had left, Alasdair felt more at ease, as long as the marauders didn’t attack their village again. He appreciated that Isobel wanted to help the MacEachens and the guards at the keep by pulling duty, but he wanted her and her kin to stay at the castle.

Still, Dawy and Agnes needed help, and if she and her kin could assist them for a time, Alasdair would know they would be grateful. He knew they feared allowing someone else to take over the croft until Dawy could walk on his broken leg, worried they would never be able to go home again.

Lorne told Isobel, “I will put you on the schedule when you are ready to guard since you are helping to take care of the MacEachen.”

“ Ja , uhm, aye, thank you.”

“I will take them all to their croft,” Hans said.

“Do so,” Alasdair said. “But I want you to come here also to get to know our people.”

“Aye, of course,” Isobel said.

“Elene is staying here,” Alasdair added.

“I’m glad for her. She has needed to be among her own people for so long.” Isobel was grateful that Alasdair had taken them all in, though she knew there would still be trouble.

Hans got a cart to carry Dawy while a couple of servants brought cooked boar out to them to take home with them. Isobel figured Alasdair had told them to do so, which she thought admirable.

Agnes, Isobel, and her cousins would walk. Isobel took Libby’s hand. As they passed the wall, they saw Conall working with others to repair it.

“Come with us, Conall,” Hans said. “You are going to help the crofters for a while.”

Conall frowned and Isobel thought he was enjoying working on the wall.

“Unless you want to stay here, Conall,” Isobel said.

“Nay, but I want to come back here when I can.”

She figured after all they’d been through that he wanted to stay close to his siblings and her.

They finally arrived at the croft, which was made of unmortared stones. The thatched roof was made from heather and held up by driftwood timber. A dozen sheep stood watching them in a corral, and one cow was in a field. The croft was situated near a loch, bracken leading up to it, and a forest was nearby.

Hans helped Dawy out of the cart and assisted him inside. “If any of you need anything, let us know.”

“Aye,” Agnes said.

“Aye,” Isobel said.

Then Hans returned to the keep.

The walls of the croft were two feet thick. Inside, the floor was made of stone. A table for eating was against one wall, a fireplace, a bench, chairs, and a box bed that the couple slept in.

“We’ll make pallets on the floor for all of you,” Agnes cheerfully said.

Isobel shook her head. Agnes and Dawy didn’t need to treat them like houseguests. They needed to be here to make their life easier.

“We’ll do it. Just tell us what we need to do.”

“We’ve never been able to have children of our own. We’re happy to have you under our roof for now.” Agnes said, “There’s hay in the barn that you can bring in to make your beds. You have your furs and blankets.”

“I’ll go and get some of the hay,” Conall said.

That was what Isobel loved about him. He was quick to help.

“Can I do it too?” Drummond asked.

“ Ja. Uh, aye, you can,” Conall said.

Then the two headed out to the barn.

“Me too,” Libby called out and ran out to catch up to them.

“Would you like to help me prepare the meal?” Agnes asked Isobel.

Isobel almost laughed. Elene liked to cook. Isobel didn’t.

“Aye, of course.” She helped Agnes make brown bread.

“So you wish to be a guard at the keep,” Dawy said.

“Aye.” Isobel poured mead for everyone. “I’m trained to fight but with my wolf’s vision, I’m good at observing movement also.”

“I agree.”

Her cousins returned with hay and made up two pallets, and then they sat down to eat.

The bread was very good, probably even more so because they hadn’t had fresh bread in so long. “The food is great.” Isobel ate some more of the boar meat.

“It is,” Conall said, and she gave him a look to not eat too much.

As if Agnes realized what was not being said, she smiled. “He can eat as much as he needs. And then he can hunt for us too.” She switched her attention to Isobel. “You have no guard detail tonight?”

“Nay. After all that has happened, a night of rest is what we all need.” Isobel ate some more of the bread. The boar was just as good. They hadn’t eaten anything but fish for ages.

“Aye, you must tell us your story when you are well rested.”

“Do you need me to do something for you?” The crofters were generous to house so many of them at once when Isobel and her kin were Vikings.

“We could use some more firewood,” Dawy said. “And water.”

“You need to make another two beds for yourselves,” Agnes said. “We can get more firewood and water on the morrow.”

There hadn’t been enough room for Elene to stay with them. She would sew, do needlework, and perform other tasks that were required of her.

Isobel would help hunt for food, grow and gather crops, and perform guard duty—whatever anyone needed her to assist with.

Once they had eaten, Isobel and Conall went to the barn to gather more hay for two more beds. Then they laid out the furs.

“I have it on good authority the laird is off to swim in the loch yonder—and no one will be there to guard him.” Agnes brushed a dark strand of hair off her cheek, a twinkle in her gray-blue eyes.

Isobel was never embarrassed. Ever. Yet she felt a rush of heat fill her cheeks at once. “He probably doesna need anyone to guard him.” Or he would have already assigned someone the duty.

“If anything untoward happened to him, the pack would suffer a great loss,” Agnes continued, fetching more honeyed mead for Isobel.

Isobel glanced at Dawy to see his take on the situation.

“Aye, ‘tis so.” The dark-haired man winked at her, and she felt the heat in her face renew.

“I can go.” Conall sounded eager to get on the laird’s good side.

“Nay, I will go. You make sure your siblings go to bed and stay in their beds.” Isobel pulled on her brat, grabbed her sword and dagger, secured them, and seized another slice of bread. “Do as they tell you, ja ?” she said to Libby and Drummond.

“ Ja ,” her cousins said.

Then Isobel was out the door, striding toward the loch. She moved through the bracken when she saw Alasdair removing his sword and sgian dubh . Then he removed his belt, his plaid, and his shirt. His buttocks, legs, back, and arms, sculpted and naked, were quite impressive.

He waded into the water and began to swim across the loch. She was hidden in the six-foot-tall bracken, watching the muscular Scot swim and enjoying the view—the sun setting, pink, orange, and yellow skies painting the water and him.

She wondered how often he swam in the loch. It was important not to do something at a regular interval or his enemy could learn of it and be ready for him.

She was still doing her duty, listening to any sound of danger that would alert her that someone intended to attack him, and she would stop the assassin.

All she heard was the sound of insects buzzing and the laird splashing in the water. She thought she would take one after he had finished his swim. She had no intention of him catching her in her mission to guard him. She was still certain if he had wanted a guard, he would have assigned one.

She smiled when he finally finished his long swim and headed for the shore where he’d left his clothes and weapons. But then he looked in her direction and she figured he must have smelled her scent.

Next time, if there was a next time, she would have to ensure she was downwind of him. He began to use a cloth to dry himself, his whole glorious body facing her as if he was showing off to her, which couldn’t help but impress her—when he should have been turned around so he could watch for danger in the woods.

She sighed. The view was too good, and she had to remember to breathe, to listen and watch for signs of difficulty, and not be so caught up in studying the laird, for heaven’s sake.

When he finished belting his plaid and securing his weapons, he headed for the keep which was southwest of her. So had he smelled her, or not?

Even if he knew she’d been out here, he probably had just been amused that she had been watching him swimming in the loch. Once she no longer saw him, she moved closer to the loch and pulled off her brat, léine , her shoes, and then her chemise.

She needed to send Conall out to swim and get clean.

Then she walked into the freshwater, wading deep until she could swim. She dove under, feeling refreshed and glorious. The loch was close enough to the croft and the keep that she could do this every night.

She floated on her back and felt at one with the silky water. She stared up at the sparkling stars in the night sky. She felt as though she could stay like this forever. But then Conall howled from the croft, telling her she needed to retire to bed and get some sleep. She wanted to turn into her wolf and bite him!

When Alasdair had finished his swim, feeling invigorated, he had been ready to dress and return to the keep. But then he had smelled Isobel’s delightful scent in the direction of the bracken. Unable to help himself, he’d dressed and watched for any sign of her, but she’d been hidden, and he couldn’t see her in the tall plants.

He thought of walking through the bracken to locate her, but then he assumed she’d only been there to bathe. When she’d seen him in the loch, she had waited until he left.

He had headed back to the keep, but then he had detoured to see what she was up to. When he had seen her strip off her clothes and enter the loch, he’d been intrigued—so much so that he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the sight of her.

Toned muscles, beautiful breasts, long blond hair unbound, and a body that looked to be perfect to share carnal pleasure with and carry a Scotsman’s bairn. His bairn even.

But when she began floating on her back, observing the stars as if she was a water sprite of the loch, he couldn’t move, his groin tightening, and he had the greatest urge to join her.

A wolf inside the croft howled. A young male wolf, probably Conall.

Then she turned as if she’d smelled Alasdair this time—the breeze switching back and forth across the loch, so mayhap she had. She stared at him, looking shocked to see him observing her. He smiled.

He thought of leaving, of giving her some privacy, but wolves shifted naked in front of one another, so it wasn’t that uncommon to see each other in that way. Though they were new to each other, he was more than intrigued.

“If you are there to guard me, you need no’ do so any longer. I’m quite clean now and coming out.”

“If I had known you wanted to bathe, I would have allowed you to go first,” he said, not budging from his spot of claimed territory—right next to her clothes.

“I was here to guard you.”

He raised a brow. “Lorne sent you to guard me?”

Now that surprised him. Lorne never sent anyone to watch over Alasdair because he didn’t want anyone to pull the duty. Sometimes, Hans or Rory came with him to provide extra security and take turns swimming, too.

Isobel swam closer to the shore, but she wasn’t getting out. “Nay, Dawy and Agnes did.”

He glanced back at the croft. “Did they now?”

He swung his attention back to Isobel.

“ Ja . Aye. Then, when you left—or I should say, pretended to leave—I wanted to enjoy a swim in the loch. Dinna fault them for it.”

“Quite the contrary. I’m glad they sent you to me. How do you like it here so far?”

She smiled and left the water when he wouldn’t leave. “We are very happy.” She was like a water goddess—divine to behold, the water dripping from her glorious skin. On the shore, she grabbed up her chemise and pulled it on, the sheer fabric clinging to her wet skin. Her nipples extended, and her short blond curls between her legs caught his eye.

Then she pulled her léine on, fastened her brat, and secured her weapons. He walked her back to the croft.

“You truly are no’ going to scold them for sending me out to guard you?” she asked, sounding so serious that he chuckled.

“Nay. They are a kindhearted couple who were delighted that you and your kin would stay with them.” He inclined his head to her when they reached the door, but he didn’t leave, wanting to kiss her in the worst way.

Would an Icelander’s lips be as sweet as a Scotswoman’s? He was dying to learn the truth.

She opened the door and bid him a good night, then shut the door. He stared after it wishing he’d kissed her and not allowed her to get away. He let out his breath and told himself tomorrow would be another day and tomorrow eve at gloaming? Mayhap another encounter with the Viking water goddess?

When he retired to bed that night, all he could think of was Isobel—and how much he had wanted to seduce the woman from the moment he had laid eyes on her when he was a wolf in the woods while she had climbed the cliff.

He finally drifted off to sleep until he was swept away into the world of dreams.

Hans bumped into his shoulder. “If you make a play for her and she and her pack kill you, we will take down every last one of them.” He spoke his words only so Alasdair could hear them.

“You will no’. If she and her pack see me as a threat, I will retreat until she realizes I’m no’ going away. But if she did try to kill me and somehow succeeded, you would take no action against her or her kin. They are only trying to survive, just like we are.”

The wolves’ ears were perked, listening to any sounds of danger or something to hunt.

“You are the most stubborn of us, Alasdair.”

“I need a wolf mate. She will do.” Finding another wolf pack was nigh to impossible. Wolves, aye, but not lupus garous like them. She intrigued him because she was not a Highland lass, but from Iceland.

Their other brother Rory, and their sister, Bessetta, joined them and he wanted to groan out loud. Did they have to follow him everywhere? Aye, he was the eldest, by about fifteen minutes, and by virtue of that, he’d taken charge from the time of birth on.

He’d scrambled to his mother’s teat, and once he’d had his fill, he’d ensured his smaller sister, the last born, had plenty of milk, too. It had been a good thing he had taken charge of his siblings from the onset because once their mother and father had died at sea ten years later, he and his siblings had been fending for themselves. Until he took over the pack.

“I want the one with the black fur on his tail,” Bessetta said.

Rory scoffed. “He is a wild Icelander. And too young for you.”

“And Alasdair is intrigued with the Icelandic woman. She is as wild as the wolf with the black-tipped tail. Besides, you are a wild Highlander.” Bessetta and the others quickly crouched lower when one of the wolves looked their way.

Because of the direction the wind was blowing, the northern wolves couldn’t smell them, but Alasdair and his siblings smelled them.

“Does she always hunt with her bow?” Bessetta asked Alasdair. “Have you seen her as a wolf?”

“Aye.” A beautiful wolf with a mix of white, yellowish, and black fur, her chin and throat white.

“Alasdair, are you going to sleep your life away?” Hans was asking him, and Alasdair opened his eyes and glanced around his chamber, realizing that the sun was already streaming through one of the narrow windows. “We worried you were ill. Are you feeling all right?”

Alasdair didn’t even know what Isobel and her kin looked like while wearing their wolf coats. The dream he’d had of her was already fading, yet he recalled vividly what she had looked like. The dreams he’d had of her before? Those had come true. Would these also?

Well, not about how they had met. Or that he had to take her as a mate. Even Elene could be a good choice for a mate. She had a real infinity for children and sewing. Though Isobel was really good with the children also.

She was protective and eager to show her fighting and hunting skills. For her to take charge of a group of children and a slave and cross the dangerous ocean to hopefully find a safe home for them when they were moving into the enemies’ territory? She was remarkable.

He had hopelessly fallen for her.

“Conall said Isobel was at the loch guarding you,” Hans said as Alasdair hurried to dress.

Alasdair sighed. He hadn’t thought that news would get out. The air was heavy with unspoken tension as Alasdair's head shook with the weight of realization. “She wanted to swim in the loch.”

“Aye. Conall bathed this morning. You came into the keep late, later than usual last eve. I was afraid I would have to send men out after you. That some harm might have come to you,” Hans said.

Hans smiled as they headed down the winding stairs to the great hall to break their fast, appearing as though he didn’t believe anything of the sort.

“Did you?” Alasdair hadn’t considered that, but it would be protocol to check up on him if he were late in returning for the night when he’d been alone. Or so he’d thought at the time.

“Aye. Just Rory and me though.”

Alasdair shook his head, realizing how they knew he had been swimming at the loch by the croft. They probably wanted to see if he was going to visit Isobel instead of coming to the keep. "Rory and I stumbled upon your little escapade, and we didn't want to interrupt, so we left you two alone," Alasdair explained.

"Rory and I saw the reason for your delay and decided to leave you two alone. It was a struggle to convince Rory not to make a scene and alert you of our presence."

“After I swam?” Alasdair asked.

“Aye.”

He shook his head again. He couldn’t believe his brothers had arrived at the loch, too. They had to have been downwind of him and Isobel and said nary a word of it to him—until now.

“If you are no’ interested in the lass, I would be willing to mate her. Most of the members of the pack would, to be sure. Rory’s tongue was hanging out the rest of the eve.”

Alasdair laughed.

“’Tis true. He will deny it, but what I say is true. Did you want to change the seating arrangements when we break our fast this morn?”

“Why?” Alasdair asked, suspecting he knew what his brother was getting at.

“So she can sit beside you? She can be your personal guard.”

“Nay.” Alasdair wouldn’t mind being her personal guard and protecting her sweet body all night long. But he knew if he had her sit beside him, the word would circulate throughout the pack that he had already selected her to be his mate when he needed to get to know her better first.

Besides, she would be staying with Dawy and Agnes, though he would devise a plan to ensure she spent more time at the castle.