“Sit down.” She said, pushing her chair back from the table. Danny eagerly pulled out a chair and sat as Isobel fetched and filled a clean bowl with stew. “Don't you tell your friends I've been feedin’ ya for free though, we’re not a charity.” She set the bowl in front of Danny. Without waiting for a spoon of a chunk of bread, he lifted the bowl to his mouth and slurped hungrily. Isobel tore off a larger than normal chunk of bread and set it on the table. “There's more if you want it.” She said, unable to overlook how hungry the boy was. He set the bowl down and grabbed the bread.
“Thank you, Miss!” He said before going back to eating his fill. Isobel nodded and sat back down, staring at the letter wondering what it could be about.
Chapter 2
Once Danny had finished a bowl and a half of stobhach and a sizable chunk of bread, Isobel saw him on his way. When she returned to the kitchen, the letter still stared at her from the wooden table. There was only one person who would be writing from Loch Mead – Willie McAllister. Willie owned a pub similar to the Highlander Arms up in Loch Mead. He and Duncan had grown up together in Loch Dunnough, until each had gone their separate way. While the two had been great friends as children, the cost of sending mail meant that they only really stayed in touch once a year when they took turns visiting the other, or when something of significance occurred. The last time that Willie had written it had been when his pub had been broken in to. Knowing the culprits, Willie had enlisted Duncan’s help in tracking them down and bringing them to justice.
Isobel picked up the letter, turning it over in her hands. Holding it up to the light she squinted. She could see nothing but Willie’s chicken scratch handwriting and none of it was legible. She glanced at the door, contemplating opening the letter herself. If she was careful, she could open it and reveal it without Duncan knowing - at least, that was, if he didn't come back in to the kitchen for anything. She looked back at the letter.
“Did I hear young Danny back here?” Duncan appeared in the doorway making her decision for her.
“Yes.” She nodded, her red curls falling around her face. “He came with a letter from Willie.” She held the letter out to him. Duncan looked at it, his brow furrowed.
“Ay, it's never good news from Willie.” He said, taking the envelope in his stubby fingers and tearing off the end. Pulling the letter out, he unfolded it and scanned it quickly. After a few minutes of silence he sighed loudly. “No, it's never good news from Willie indeed.” He said.
“What is it?” Isobel asked.
“There's a clan of highlanders on the move. He caught wind of it from Dougal Lannah. They passed by Loch Mead, but they're headed our way.” Duncan said, setting the letter on the table.
“What does that mean?” Isobel asked.
“It means that we need to batten down the hatches.” He said. “Keep somethin’ on ye at all times.”
“Something?” She asked. Duncan nodded.
“Aye, a knife in ye garter, a sword in ye belt…somethin’ ta keep yerself safe.” He said. Suddenly Isobel didn't feel safe at all. Her heart began to pound and all of the color drained from her face. Duncan must have noticed because he took a step closer. “Listen, I canna tell ye that I can fight off a whole clan, but I'll protect ye to my death.” He said. This didn't make Isobel feel much safer at all.
“But what if they come and what if you can't save me? What if they come when I am at home?” She asked.
“That's why I tell ye keep somethin’ on ye at all times.” He said. “And stay inside as much as ye can, and don't go wanderin’ off.” Isobel nodded. “I'd better go and get the word out.” Duncan gave her one last glance before
ding back towards the bar. Moments later Isobel heard his booming voice warning the patrons to ‘prepare for the worst.’ She felt sick to her stomach.
Isobel all but ran back home, holding up her skirt as she went. Every noise she heard put her to moving just a little bit faster. She had never encountered a highlander before and while she was sure that an entire clan of them would make enough noise to give her warning, she questioned whether they did everything as a group. Perhaps, she thought, they sent out scouts to survey before attacking. In this case a single young woman traveling alone would make the perfect target. This thought only served to quicken her pace and by the time she got to her father’s house she was breathless. She fell in to the wooden door, her fists pounding loudly.
“Mama it's me! Let me in! Hurry!” She shouted as the door rattled on its hinges.