The Bruised Thistle (The Order of the Scottish Thistle)

Read The Bruised Thistle (The Order of the Scottish Thistle) for Free Online

Book: Read The Bruised Thistle (The Order of the Scottish Thistle) for Free Online
Authors: Ashley York
him?
    “Good day to ye, miss.”
    “You are leaving already?”
    “I have my duties. Men to see to. Ye are fine here.” He tipped his head.
    “Good day.” Iseabail watched the door close and felt the emptiness of the room move in around her.
    Iain could not possibly have meant to actually trust no one, could he? He could not know what kind of trouble they would come against. This man was a soldier, after all, and strong. Competent. Surely he was not someone to distrust?
    Either her best hope had just walked out that door or she had dodged a flying dagger.
     

Chapter 6
     
    Sitting at the table in front of the small window, she breathed in the fresh morning air. Honey dripped onto her fingers as she poured it on her biscuit. It tasted heavenly. She sighed. She could almost pretend she was home again. Home with Calum and Iain. She forced herself to swallow the suddenly dry biscuit. Where was Iain now?
    Tears slid down her cheeks. If only she had known he would not show up, she would never have left him. What had happened? As rightful heir to all their uncle had stolen from them, Iain was the biggest threat. Where was he? Iseabail’s heart sank. There was no telling to what lengths their uncle would go to get them back.
    Their naïve little plan to find help had been a total failure. It had succeeded only in separating them. They had made the two day journey to the powerful Campbells without incident, only to find no one there. No shepherd. No Hugh. No one to help them. They later learned of the wedding celebration of the Campbells’s only daughter to the fair-haired MacGregor, but by then she and Calum had continued on their own, because they did not know what else to do. They had to keep moving. And when they had finally made it to the village, they had discovered the lie.
    They had overhead some villagers speaking of the MacNaughton and referring to his children as murdering thieves. They spoke with pity about the new laird of the castle, an English man the three children had tried to kill in his sleep.
    “Not that I have any love in me heart for an Englishmen. I always say, England is a great place but for the fact of all those Englishmen!”
    “The devil take ’em all, but a man should nay fear for his life when he lays his head down at night. Cut the throat of the guard, they did. Clear through, I heard.”
    “Damn me. The strengths of them that’s crazy. Raving lunatics. That was the guard that protected the uncle’s bedchamber?”
    “Aye. Saved the uncle, he did.”
    That guard was Roland. A loyal protector of the three children, he had defended them from their uncle, who had been outraged by Roland’s audacity when he had tried to impress upon him their father’s wishes. But Roland knew better than any, having been present at the signing of the will. He knew their uncle had no business moving in or taking over their lands.
    Iseabail and Calum had hidden in the back hall, watching, when Roland approached their uncle.
    “M’lord, I do not believe their father meant for them to be so cut off from everyone else.”
    “They have each other. They have me. What else would they need, man?” Henry’s voice had sounded syrupy sweet, but his hands had doubled into fists at his sides.
    Fear for her friend had settled like a stone in her gut.
    “M’lord, Iseabail is just of an age where she should be with her peers and perhaps even considering a husband. It was her father’s wish that—”
    “Blast it, man. Her father is dead,” Henry roared at the guard as he whirled around to face him, throwing his cup at him in his exasperation. “I do not wish to hear another word. Do you hear me?” Roland lowered his eyes and nodded his compliance. “Good. Now get the hell out of here and do not return until I ask for you.”
    Their uncle had banished him from the castle. And now they were being blamed for his murder.
    Iseabail and Calum had run for their lives, but every village they came to was a potential

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