Highlander Enchanted(80)

“We dressed her as ye, Lady Cade, in hopes of causing sedition among the English knights fighting with Lord Richard,” the priest explained. “And to take the place of Cade leading our warriors.”

Isabel’s mood saddened. “Fianna was a sweet girl,” she said. “It pains me to hear this. Had I known sooner what kind of man Richard was, I would have acted.”

“Doona think this way,” Cade said gently. “Ye canna see a man’s heart when ye meet him.”

She was quiet, thoughts on Fianna.

“Lord Richard was abandoned by many of his men in this battle. Including his master-at-arms.”

Recalling the knight who had helped her, Isabel twisted to see the battlefield behind her. She was unable to recognize the faces of any of the disheveled, muddy warriors slowly recovering from the tempest. “We must find him and the others,” she said, a spurt of worry pushing away her fatigue. “I journeyed with the king’s stewart and personal guard. I can –”

“Quiet, lass. Ye’ve done enough,” Cade growled and pulled her into his body. “Yer trembling and by yer limp, ye broke yer leg again. Ye need rest.”

She leaned against him, unaware of how taxed her body was until she allowed herself to begin to relax. Her ankle hurt too much to put her full weight on, and she shook from a lack of sleep and food over the past several days.

“I wonder how many more have perished,” she whispered, thoughts on the loyal handmaiden who had trailed her everywhere she went in Cade’s keep.

“Too many,” Cade said, an edge in his voice. “’Tis my fault.”

“You did not start this war, Cade,” she replied.

He shook his head, jaw clenched. “Father Adam, fetch Marie’s lass,” Cade ordered. “We have much to do.”

Father Adam bobbed his head and started away.

“Cade, I can help,” she said and looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest.

“I ken,” he said with a tight smile. “We will do this together.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead.

There is so much to do, she thought with some despair as she surveyed the valley. Laird Duncan’s men had begun gathering on one side of the valley, rounded up and surrounded by the Scottish knights granted her to win her lands. Too few had survived from either side of the battle.

Her eyes fell to three familiar forms approaching them, one of whom was limping. John’s mask had been torn away by the storm, but he walked with purpose, his green eyes on her. He was flanked by Niall, who appeared drenched in mud from head to toe, and Brian, who appeared little better off.

Relief flooded her. “John!” she cried. Unable to walk let alone run to him, she remained where she was, supported by Cade.

“Saxony.” Cade’s tone was hushed.

John stopped a short distance away, a storm in his eyes.

Sensing the depth of emotion between the two, Isabel gently pried herself free of Cade’s arms and hobbled to the side. Neither John nor Cade appeared to know what to say, but her heart was singing with happiness at the sight of the two people she loved most together again.

“Speak to him,” she said softly to Cade and nudged him.

He squeezed her arm lightly and limped towards the scarred man who appeared ready to turn and leave.

Isabel remained where she was, hands clutched together and eyes riveted to the two warriors as they met again for the first time in years.

Niall and Brian joined her.

“I believe we ‘ave ye t’thank for the sea not swallowing us,” Brian said.

“Yea,” Niall agreed. “I havena seen the sun in too long.”

She smiled to herself. “Are the seillie and MacDonald’s safe?” she asked.

“Yea. Too far for the tempest to reach them,” Brian confirmed. “We lost most our warriors.”

“They were good deaths,” Niall said quietly. “Honorable.”

“Many more were spared,” Brian agreed.

Isabel’s gaze swept across the valley. So many were lost. “We will honor their memories and families with gold and land. No seillie shall ever want for nothing,” she vowed. “So long as I draw breath, no one else will ever threaten us again.”

“Ne’er cross an English lass,” Niall said with a snort.

She said nothing, recalling all she had been through to bring her to this point. Gone were the days when she was helpless and afraid, when her heart had felt shattered and her hope was gone. Gone was the woman she had been, who had not known herself and who feared she would never have a true home again, once her brother died.

There was much to rebuild of her life, but she no longer feared her fate, not when she had found her purpose and place in the world.

“Speaking of English, Lord Richard and his knights are gone,” Brian said. “Cowards.”

“I would not concern myself with them if I were you,” Isabel replied. “If my brother does not serve Richard justice, my uncle will. He will not know peace.”

“’Tis very un-Christian of ye to think ill of another, is it not?” Brian teased.

“Then I will pray oftener,” she said in a hard tone. “But I will see to it he never harms another.”

“Good lass,” Niall murmured.

Cade and John were speaking quietly, and she saw Cade smile first, and then John. Isabel’s thoughts warmed, and she drew a deep, shaky breath. Her ankle was pulsing with pain. Combined with fatigue, she began to feel ill.