Page 18 of To Win a Highlander’s Heart

“The MacLeods can defend themselves—or at least most of them can.” He gave a short, bitter laugh. “The English are gone for now. You have time to heal, and only then will we find a way forward.”

“I was fine on my own in the wilderness.” Her voice shook, and she tried desperately to control it.

“You cannot live that way forever.” Orrick’s gaze bored into hers.

Her heart raced in her chest. This whole conversation left her feeling off balance. “I could have.” Until I met you.

Chapter Seven

A knock came at the door the next morning. Isolde had hoped it would be Orrick returning after he’d left her last night. Instead, Gwendolyn opened the door. “Are you fit for a visitor or two?”

“Aye,” Isolde replied from where she stood at the window with a blanket wrapped about her shoulders. Her fever had passed and she was feeling much stronger this morning. Her injury was healing well and already she could fully extend her arm. But could she hold her bow? That was a question she longed to discover; that is, if she could figure out what had happened to her weapon.

Gwendolyn slipped through the doorway, along with a small girl. Isolde moved to kneel before the child. “Emlyn, how are you?”

The girl pulled up the skirt of her dress and showed the bandages beneath. “Lottie says I can walk around the castle but not to run yet.” She dropped her skirt and hung her head.

Gwendolyn scooted the little girl forward with her hands. “Emlyn would like to visit for a while. I’ll be nearby should you need me.”

Isolde tried to object. What did she know about children? But Gwendolyn vanished before Isolde could demand she stay. The minute the door closed all the uncertainties that had haunted her for the past fourteen months came back to her. She didn’t know anything about children. She’d always been too busy training to pay much attention. Her brother’s child would be toddling around by now—now that she had survived the ordeal Isolde had caused her. Or would she? Rowena had mentioned the child was lame. Had her arrow somehow deformed the child’s leg?

Emlyn must have read something in Isolde’s expression because she held out her hand. “Please, don’t leave me alone like everyone else.”

The fear inside Isolde shattered at the soft plea. She reached for the small hand. Confidently, Emlyn placed her hand in Isolde’s larger one. “Let’s sit on the bed, shall we?” Shortening her stride to accommodate the child’s smaller legs, Isolde led her to the bedside to help her sit at the edge while she settled beside her. The little girl had been at Dunvegan for the same four days as Isolde now. She appeared healthy, with rosy cheeks and clear eyes. Yet a sadness lingered behind it all.

“Emlyn, do you remember anything about what happened in the wilderness?”

The little girl shuddered, as if remembering everything she had endured. “Those men came to the village. They attacked everyone and set fire to the houses. That’s when I ran into the woods and kept running. I was still running when the badger attacked.”

A surge of protectiveness welled up in Isolde and she reached up to stroke a wisp of the child’s blond hair away from her wide, frightened eyes. Isolde startled when the little girl thrust herself against Isolde’s chest and nestled into her body. Tears welled in Emlyn’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Acting on instinct, Isolde curled her good arm around Emlyn in an embrace as her own mother had done when she was a child. She rocked back and forth, not knowing what else to do or say. The motion seemed to calm Emlyn, because she stopped crying.

A slow warmth curled inside Isolde’s stomach, and the hollowness she’d felt for the past year seemed to vanish. She stared down at the blond head against her chest. Her heart wrenched at the sight. Emlyn had needed comfort, yet it was Isolde who felt her muscles relax and her own anxiety lessen. Who would have thought she was capable of giving comfort, and feeling content in return? Was this what motherhood would feel like?

The memory of Orrick’s lean muscular body pressed close to hers during her fever filled Isolde’s thoughts. He had proven himself to be kind and compassionate over the past few days, unlike so many of the men she had known all her life. He would make the perfect mate . . .

Isolde stiffened. She had no right to think such thoughts of Orrick or any man. She’d made her choice long ago to be only a warrior, never a wife or a mother, and that had led her to her current circumstances. It was madness to even consider things that would only hinder her goal.

Emlyn sniffled, then sat back, staring up at Isolde, her gaze filled with innocence. “Will you teach me?”

“Teach you what?”

Emlyn jumped down from the bed, her memories of the tragedy she’d suffered now gone. She stood before Isolde with her chin up and her spine straight. “I want you to teach me how to be brave and strong like you.”

Isolde didn’t know what to say. No one, male or female, had ever said such a thing to her before. “I can teach you how to protect yourself.”

“I want to use a bow and arrow like you.”

Isolde frowned. “If you still feel that way when you are older, I would be honoured to teach you.” If she were still alive by then. The sombre thought came into Isolde’s mind before she could stop it.

Emlyn’s lip came out in a pout. “That will take forever.”

“Not as long as you think.” Isolde ruffled the little girl’s hair, then jerked her hand away, surprised she could do something so spontaneous. “Perhaps later this week we can both work on strengthening exercises if you’d like?”

With a nod of the little girl’s head, doubts assailed Isolde. She frowned. What had possessed her to make such an offer? She had no right to move about this castle as she pleased. She had no right to stay any longer than was necessary. And what would happen to Emlyn when she did leave? For she couldn’t take the child with her and condemn her to a life of total isolation.

Isolde clamped her hands before her to keep them from shaking. She would have no choice but to do to Emlyn what everyone else in her life had done to her: leave.

Isolde’s thoughts were disrupted by the clatter of hoofbeats outside at the front of the castle. She sprang to her feet and moved to the window. Judging by the sound, there were multiple horses arriving at Dunvegan over the drawbridge. She pushed aside the shutters and peered below. Her heart stuttered in her chest at the sight of familiar red jackets. The English had arrived. The sight sent terror spinning through Isolde.