Highland Persuasion (The MacLomain Series- Early Years) (7 page)

“Norman?” Iosbail asked.

The lass nodded, unsure. “Aye, one generation removed. I am now of the Scots.”

Iosbail raised a brow and took the time to look closer at the bedraggled creature. How had she missed the girl’s beauty? When cleaned up properly her appearance would claim any man’s heart.

No matter, now was not the time to further analyze the lass’s future but to ensure they all survived. She turned her attention to Alexander. “Do as I say, please. I’ve a way of finding things when set to a challenge.”

“Aye, I’ve little doubt you do.”

Alexander helped Shamus to his feet. “Can you and Caitriona find your way?”

His friend chuckled. “I could find me way out of
ifreann
blindfolded if need be, laddie.”

“All well and good but no hell will find you while I walk this Earth, friend. I’ll help Iosbail. We’ll be back in no time.”

Shamus nodded. “Best be off then.”

Iosbail was already on her way. Shamus was a capable man and would see to Caitriona. Alexander was not needed. She didn’t want his company. With that in mind, she said nothing as she made her way along the small river running through the cave. The key was finding a spot close enough to sunlight but far enough from the wind, a nook of dirt that supported life despite the odds.

Alexander said nothing for several long minutes. Though she wondered at his thoughts she didn’t volunteer comradeship. That sort of sentiment was better left for battles. And battle she would still with a Sinclair.

When at last he spoke he said, “You think highly of Shamus.”

“Aye, I do.”

“Why?”

Iosbail stayed close to the shore, better to keep him at her back. “Because he fights with heart… because he is a true friend to those he calls his friends.”

“You’ve known him but a day, lass.”

She didn’t have to go far to find what she was looking for and stepped up onto a ledge. “I prefer not to spend a lifetime trying to discover if a person is worth my friendship. One day will do.”

Alexander leapt up beside her. “Then either you’re a fool or someone worth knowing.”

Though she didn’t mean to say such, Iosbail raised a brow at Alexander in invitation. “Then I suppose ‘tis your decision to determine whether or not I’m a fool.”

“Sounds like a challenge.”

Iosbail set to picking up sticks. “There could be nothing else between a Broun and a Sinclair.”

“So you say.”

“So I know.”

“I wonder,” He said softly, “if we’ll be able to set aside our differences long enough to survive what lays ahead.”

“And here I thought you’d decided to woo me to your advantage.”

Alexander chuckled. “Perhaps when I envisioned us traveling with slightly more leisure than what looms before us.”

Iosbail thought his change of tactic intriguing. “It seems to me that such a perilous new adventure would be the best time to convince
a lass
of your affections.”

“Nay.”
He chuckled. “You’re bound to run moody when your belly runs empty and without a change of clothes over several days I
cannae
imagine being near you all that pleasant.”

 Iosbail was downright disappointed in herself when a chuckle escaped her lips. May the gods above not have heard her! With no desire to further risk enjoying the Sinclair’s words she said, “I’ll go down a bit further. There are things I need to find. You continue collecting wood.”

Before he had a chance to respond, she turned to task.

Later that evening she’d continue the conversation and he wouldn’t like what she had to say.

In fact, he’d be downright appalled.

Chapter Four

 

Alexander sat back against the cave wall and watched the fire flicker over Iosbail’s face. They’d already walked back and forth several times to collect more brush to keep the flame alive. Because their cloaks were damp from the rain they were unable to create a satchel. All was hand carried. But she had a good eye for timber and had found choice pieces that would no doubt see them warm until morn.

Iosbail had since managed to remove Shamus’ arrow and put a poultice over the wound. Whatever she’d used had soothed him greatly. The Norman
lass, Caitriona, was
fast asleep curled up on a bed of weeds that Iosbail had put together. According to the Broun, those particular weeds hadn’t been fit for a fire. They would cause an unhealthy smoke.

As it turned out Iosbail had a weakness he never saw coming… a soft heart.

While his initial intention had gone from shunning her to wooing her, now Alexander had no real desire to do either. In his estimation, she was a rare sort of person and one worth getting to know better, even if she was a Broun. If he’d learned anything from Shamus it was that the most unexpected things can come from ones greatest enemy.

How
was it
that such a beautiful woman could be his enemy to begin with?

And Lord was she incredibly lovely.

Knees to her chest, Iosbail sat with her chin propped on bent arms and eyes adrift. First wet then dried by the fire, her long, black hair had turned wild. Now the untamed locks were a becoming spiraled halo of curls over her shoulders. Her once prim and royal features had turned soft and gentle, more becoming than a mythological creature.

Yet it was her eyes that kept him looking again and again.

Alexander wondered over and over where he’d seen such a color and then at last figured it out. It had been a late summer’s day when he’d been but a wee bairn swimming in the loch. The sun was low in the sky… that last hour before sunset. When the light hit the water and made it shine a rare hue of blue that seemed to shoot from both beneath and above the water.

While he’d thought upon meeting her that she had sky blue eyes he’d been incredibly wrong. Iosbail had the eyes of Scotland when she knew day’s end was near.

She had eyes that both cherished day and welcomed night.

When those eyes rose to his and her lips moved it took Alexander a long second to realize she spoke to him. “We’ve but the cloaks drying on the rock and nothing else. The journey ahead will be difficult for everyone, especially a man wounded. I will go on alone and get help.”

He almost laughed but stopped. To see her fight earlier and all she’d done since told him she was a survivor. But he was a royal chieftain and Iosbail was his wife. “You’ll do no such thing. We’re far safer traveling in numbers than we are apart.”

“Spoken like a man used to having brethren at his back.”

“Spoken like a man who has been to war many times.”

Alexander looked once more at Shamus, and then Caitriona before his gaze settled on Iosbail. “They both like you. Already there is camaraderie. Even you ken the strength in that.”

Why he pushed her to stay and not send her off to what would surely be her death, Alexander did not know. Or did he?

“Shamus can care for her. You can be their strength. You dinnae need me.”

I do though and I dinnae know why
. But he would not say such.

“We will travel not to the Broun clan but to the MacLomains. With your brother’s clan we will find soldier and strength enough to make it to the Brouns.”

Iosbail came fully to attention and shook her head. “Nay, my brother is not part of this. I willnae have it.”

Alexander knew well the power her brother, Adlin, had in Scotland. The Broun’s would not be nearly what they were without the tie they shared with the MacLomain’s, despite what Iosbail might say.

“Your brother has a clan so large that most will buckle beneath its power as we make our way from Argyll to Lothian. ‘Tis a wise, sound course of action for us now.”

“Nay!”
Iosbail threw a batch of weed into the fire and it flared.

“Aye. ‘
Tis our best chance of survival. Surely you can see that.”

A heavy frown in place she said, “What of turning back to the Sinclairs?”

Fury bubbled in his blood but he kept his voice tempered. “You know as well as I who attacked us.”

Iosbail’s eyes flickered to his but remained unwavering. “What makes you so sure Adlin will want to aide a chieftain so despised by the King of Scotland?”

Why had he hoped for a brief moment she would show compassion? The
lass was
incapable... at least when it came to a Sinclair. “Your brother has no fear of Edgar. The MacLomain’s keep their distance from the Scottish royals. The last I was aware, Adlin had not declared fealty to any king, even Malcolm when he lived.”

“So you see,” she murmured.
“’Tis a fool’s errand to seek aide from a clan with no love for your lot.”

“Mayhap not,” Alexander concurred. “But the clan does have a love for you.” He nodded at Shamus. “And him.”

“What say you?”

“Ah.” Alexander tossed a stick into the fire. “So you didnae know about Shamus Flanagon?”

Clearly confused, Iosbail’s frown deepened. “I’ve not heard the name before.”

“’Tis surprising.”
He shrugged.
“And not a story for me to tell.”

“No one knows more than I about our clan’s Irish ancestry and the Flanagons are not amongst them.” Iosbail shrugged. “Yours is an ill attempt to convince, Sinclair.”

“Nay,” Shamus cracked open one eye, his voice soft.
“’Tis indeed a connection between the MacLomain’s and Flanagon’s, lassie.
A connection that spans back many, many generations to long before your short years.”

“My short years?”
Iosbail chuckled. “Tell me more. It seems I might have missed some family history.”

Alexander and Shamus met one another’s eyes briefly before his friend continued. “’Twas a very long time ago and a war fought when the Irish were new to this land. So long ago that those like the MacLomains might sometimes forget where they originally came from.”

Iosbail narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

“Some might say that the Flanagon’s date back as far if not further than the MacLomain’s,” Alexander offered.

“You do not remember me, aye lassie?” Shamus whispered. “Well, I remember you. A strong-headed lass, a young, restless spirit determined to leave Eire as soon as ye could.”

Alexander swore that even the persistent drips of the cave ceased their sound to listen closely. While he’d wanted to wait to broach this now seemed as good a time as any and Shamus was determined. How eager he was to see her response!

“Who are ye?” Iosbail’s brogue
thickened,
her emotions high.

Shamus’s eyes turned both distant and intense.
“Stepson to the Donnell clan, brother to the lad who impregnated you over nearly six hundred years ago.”

Iosbail shot to her feet and swung free her dagger. She stood not to attack but to defend.
“’Tis impossible!”
Her body shook, eyes glistened. “Who are ye truly, lad!”

Shamus came to his feet. “Look closely, Iosbail. Aye, ‘twas a long time ago but do you not see the boy I once was?”

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