My Brave Highlander(96)

When her wedding to Jedwarth came to pass, it had been nothing like she'd imagined. 'Twas naught but a business arrangement. Her husband hadn't been a handsome man her own age, and she certainly wasn't madly in love with him. There were no genuine smiles. Only forced ones. The wedding feast had been grand, but she'd barely known anyone and none of her favorite ballads were played. No one had even asked her what she preferred. It was all arranged. All she had to do was show up and say I do.

She was a grown woman now who knew what reality was. Not a silly child caught up in daydreams. Perhaps her favorite ballad would never be played on her wedding day, but she could play it herself for she'd learned it long ago.

Standing before the window, she took her small flute from the pouch on her belt and placed it against her lower lip. After positioning her fingers, she played scales to warm up. Her splint hampered the movement of one of her fingers but she could play well enough by lifting and lowering the finger and not bending it. After a minute, she paused, then started playing the ballad. She hoped she remembered it all. Years had passed since she'd practiced it. She missed a few notes here and there, but it was a fair rendition since she had no audience.

After a moment, she drifted back many years to when she was a young lass filled with hope for a bright future. Tears burned her eyes and caused her vision to blur. After dashing them away, she played the next verse, the words of the romantic tale streaming through her mind. It was about a young laird who was taken prisoner by the king, but then rescued by his lady love.

A creak sounded behind her. She jumped and turned toward the door, wiping the annoying tears from her eyes.





Chapter Twenty





Isobel was surprised to see Dirk standing in the open doorway of the small, circular tower room. "Lady Isobel? Pray pardon. I thought Aiden was practicing his music up here."

"Nay. 'Tis only me."

"I didn't know you played." His sharp gaze speared her. "Why are you crying?"

"It matters not." Turning away, she wiped her sleeve at the idiotic tears. She hated for anyone to see her cry.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded, coming more fully into the room. "How is your hand?"

"Nay, I'm well. And how is your head?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

"I have a headache. But I'd have one even if I hadn't taken an oar to the head last night."

"What is wrong?"

"I'd rather not talk about it." He came forward. "Let me see your broken finger."

When she held out her hand, he took it into his large warm ones. She loved the way his strong fingers held hers so gently as if he was afraid he'd injure her.

"The bruise is fading and the swelling has gone down," he observed.

She nodded.

His piercing gaze returned to her face. "So… why are you crying?"

"I'm not now." She grinned slightly, trying to convince him she was fine. In truth, being with him did lift her mood.

"But you were."

She shook her head. "'Twas the ballad I was playing. It makes me think of… Never mind. I'm sure you think I'm silly."

"Nay. Of course not. I'm curious." Considering his rapt attention, he did appear interested.

"Well, when I was a girl, The Laird o' Logie was my favorite. My mother often had the musicians play it after supper. I thought one day the ballad would be played at my wedding feast. I led a sheltered life back then, and I actually believed my dreams would come true. Of course, they didn't."

He moved toward the window as if distracted by something outside. After a moment, he turned back to her but she was unable to decipher his expression.

"I told you it was silly," she said, her face heating.

"'Tis not silly to wish to be happy."

"I hope you're happy being the new chief."

He shrugged. "Being chief is not a matter of happiness for me, but a matter of duty and responsibility."

She understood those things all too well, and they were not usually pleasant, at least not in her case. "Still, I hope you will enjoy being chief. I think you're ideally suited for the position. You're wise and brave. You will be a great leader."

"I thank you. I'll do my best." The afternoon sunlight in the room ignited the vivid blue of his eyes like flame.

"'Tis clear to me you will not be a greedy laird. Instead, you will be one who protects his people."

He gave a brief nod. "I will try as best I can to emulate my father. He was a skilled and well-respected chief. The clan could not have been more loyal to him."

She nodded, remembering how she'd felt when she entered this bower. "I wanted to talk to you about what Maighread said. She lied. I didn't say you were disgusting and barbaric. In fact, the opposite is true. You are the most appealing man I've ever met. Though you are strong and tough, you are also compassionate and protective."