Isla's Heart

Can't Love Me

Isla had been disappointed to wake alone and chilled in Conall's bed. Last night had been like a beautiful dream and she found herself doubting if it had been real. The discomfort between her legs and the whisker marks upon her delicate skin told her of it's truth. She smiled at the small scratches that branded her Conall's. Even if the marks only made her his for one night, it was one night she'd treasure always.

Dressing in a gown she did not recognize, green with snowy white embroidery, she met her guards in the hall. Taking the secret passage once again, she slipped into the hall, checking the bounce in her step. It would not do for someone to notice an uncharacteristic cheer in her. That thought made her stop abruptly, her guards nearly ran her over, causing her to stumble forward.

She laughed. Now that was more like the Isla everyone knew.

Taking her seat she pretended not to notice Conall leaning towards Cat with a wicked smile. One that Cat returned with zeal. Isla's once ravenous appetite fled and she was left with a heavy feeling of doubt in her gut. Swirling her spoon around in her porridge she let self pity drag her cheerful thoughts away. She'd experienced the most magical night of her life and the man that had made it happen sat three chairs away pouring adoration upon her far more appealing sister. Knowing it for the game it was did nothing to keep old feelings at bay.

Accept your place, Isla. It's the only one you have.

"Isla, come here! We have something to request of you!"

Her sister's abrupt beckon caused her to jump and porridge spilled on the bodice of the beautiful new gown. of course. Sighing heavily she rose from her chair and let her feet numbly carry her to stand before both Conall and her wickedly smiling sister, "Yes, my dear sister?"

"We need you to transform one of my gowns to suit our sharing of bonds." Cat's bright eyes twinkled upon Conall's face, "You can do that can't you?" She placed a firm grip on Isla's arm in clear warning that a yes was the only tolerable response.

"Of course, sister. I would be honored to perform such a task for you."

She eyed Conall in hope of receiving some silent message of reassurance, but his gaze would not meet her's, "I could make you a fine wedding robe too, milord." She enjoyed the slight grimace that marred his arrogantly smiling face. He sputtered a decline to the offer and Isla found it raised her spirits. She was truly turning into an evil woman and she found she did not mind it one bit.

"I'll meet with you later for a fitting, Isla. Now leave us, the Laird and I have much to discuss." The cold dismissal was like a knife along Isla's spine and she pinched her arm behind her back to keep from slapping her sister's smug face. Instead, she bowed like the good little servant Cat expected, and walked slowly from the hall.

The day surprisingly rushed by with Cat's incessant chatter of wedding plans and requests for the fine gown she expected. Isla found relieve from the anger and pain that warred inside of her by accidentally sticking a pin in various areas of Cat's body as she stitched her into a form fitting cream gown. Not snorting while she did so was her only penance.

"You are not angry with me, are you sister?", Cat suddenly asked with a silky tone Isla did not quite trust.

"Of course not, sister.", Isla could list many reasons why she could be cross, but knew it best to play along. It was what Conall expected of her. She was to keep Lady Catriona busy and not to say a word.

Frustration drove another pin into Cat's side.

"Ow! Pay attention, idiot!" Cat rubbed her side, "You'll get blood on the gown. What has gotten into you? You've never been this clumsy when stitching!" Cat eyed her shrewdly.

"Sorry, sister. I'll be more careful."

Careful to stick you harder the next time!

She'd yet to draw blood but the idea was not fully rejected by the fire of discontent that blazed within her. Marring even one inch of Cat's perfect complexion would be just the lift she needed. She took a deep breath, willing away this new facet of her being. Finishing quickly in an attempt to keep from pinning her oblivious sister to death, she spun Cat around none too gently, and declared her work finished.

"You'll be very beautiful, Catriona."

"I never doubted it."

Bitch!

"I ken you desire him, Isla." The words were said slowly and with enough malice to cause a chill to settle over Isla.

"My guard, Tavish?", She let a silly grin transform her face, "He is rather finely made, but he ignores me, as most men do. He barely notices me even when he is guarding me.", Poor Tavish, she was using him in quite an ill manner, but he was just the distraction she needed to lead her sister away from her current query. 

Cat's eyes narrowed, but she did not argue, "It is those horrible gowns you insist on wearing. Where did you get that gorgeous gown you wore earlier today? That was lovely on you."

The compliment was given grudgingly, yet it frightened Isla how such a tiny nicety could make her wish to confide in her sister of the danger she faced. Steeling herself against the weakness, she busied herself with the stray pieces of fabric and thread she'd thrown about in her haste to have this unseemly task done.

"I sullied it, of course.", She laughed nervously, "Ever clumsy, you know. It is why I where these horrible gowns, as you call them. They hide my clumsy mistakes."

An awkward silence fell over the room as Isla feigned distraction with making order of the messy room. When would this charade be over? Isla's nerves were drawn so tight she felt as though her spine would snap. Finally, when the last of her needles and discarded fabric were put away, she let her gaze rest on her sister's slender back, "You do make a beautiful bride Catriona."

They were difficult words to admit. Yet they were the truth.

"Thank you, Isla.", Cat turned and glared down at where Isla sat on the floor, "Your day will come." Ice laced the encouraging words but she winked before turning her back on Isla once more.

Drawing her brows together Isla tried to sort her sister's odd behavior. Nothing made sense any longer. It was as if up was down and the world had taken on some new order that Isla was not equipped to follow. Gawain Mackenzie was behind all of this, Isla was sure of it. He'd climbed out of his drunken dark abyss only to rage war on everyone around him and as usual had no problem sacrificing a daughter or two to accomplish it. If only Cat would talk to her!

Cat's last words ran through her head once more. What exactly did she mean by her time would come?

Fearing she'd start asking questions that would lead to breaking all of Conall's rules, she made her excuses to Cat and left the room as calmly as her harried nerves would allow. She needed air and she needed to feel nature around her. Of course, her guards were awaiting her in the hall, eagerly chomping at the bit to be on duty once more. Sighing, she slowed her steps as she descended the stairs.

There would be no escaping the impossible mountain of intrigue that seemed to be her life since arriving at the Cameron Keep. It was etched on every guard's face and in the very bones of the keep itself. Rubbing her nervous stomach Isla tried to locate Gills in the great hall. She'd never found the chance to tell Conall about her father's strange meetings with Alasdair and Cat before his death.

While she couldn't provide more detail, it still seemed important information. Even if she could not make sense of it, maybe they could.