Free Stolen Vows by Stephanie Sterling Page A

liked.
     
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    Roan did not sleep for very long.  He dozed dreamlessly until the workings and bustle of the inn and its other guests roused him.  Isla was still fast asleep though, curled up on the far side of the bed.  She was breathing deeply and contently, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.  Looking at his wife, as she slept so soundly, caused a warm, glowing feeling to spread through Roan’s body, which culminated, most curiously, just to the left hand side of his chest.
     
    It was going to be hard for Isla at Erchlochy Castle, he feared.  He could not imagine that the other MacRae’s would take too kindly to having a Cameron living among them.  Roan also wondered if it would have a detrimental effect on his own position within the clan.
     
    He was dragged from his reverie by a light knock at the door.  He scooted off of the bed and grabbed his breeches from the floor, put them on quickly and opened the door a fraction.  Roan looked down into the face of one of the pub’s maids.  The young woman bobbed a curtsey and asked if he would like some hot water brought up before breakfast.  Roan nodded his thanks and then shut the door, turning back into the room to find that Isla was finally stirring.
     
    “Good morning, wife,” he said with a smile.  She yawned, blushed, and smiled shyly back at him.
     
    The water, when it arrived, wasn’t enough to bathe in, but it was hot and enabled them both to wash themselves clean before dressing.  Breakfast was as rustic as dinner, a hunk of brown bread, served with a wedge of cheese, some honey and few sour apples.
     
    “Ye’ll eat better tonight,” Roan promised, polishing off Isla’s unwanted apple, after finishing his own. 
     
    His wife shot him a hesitant glance.  “If yer clan let me eat at all,” she murmured, staring down at her hands.
     
    “Isla -” Roan sighed, but she interrupted him.
     
    “Have ye worked out what yer going to say yet?” she asked timidly.  “How yer going to explain me?  We’ll need to both have the same story if we’re to be believed.  Perhaps ye should just tell yer Laird the truth,” she murmured unhappily.
     
    Roan frowned.  “I told ye that I would think of something, Isla, that I would look after ye and keep you safe,” he said, in a tone that did not brook argument.  “And that,” he said finally, “is what I intend to do.”
     
    ..ooOOoo..
     
    Of course, it was all well and good making these bold, dashing statements , Roan thought later, as he helped to reload Isla’s trunk onto the back of the wagon , but how did one actually follow through?
     
    He was wondering if he could present the match in its most positive light, claiming that it had been a move on his part to try to strengthen the fragile peace that Graem, his Laird, was seeking between the two clans. 
     
    Roan didn’t know if he could get away with it.  He was certain that the Camerons wouldn’t keep quiet about the precise terms of his marriage to Isla if any of them were ever asked about it - a problem that foiled every lie he wanted to concoct.
     
    So now, as he made for the stables, Roan was wondering how far he could bend the truth.  He could tell Graem that Isla’s honor had been compromised, and that he had been the only one in a position to help her. 
     
    He could go so far as to say that it had been his finding her out on the road that had caused the trouble. That was more or less the truth. Roan couldn’t have become entangled in Isla’s troubles if he had left her out in the rain.  Graem would ask why she’d been out without an escort, but Roan was confident they could think of some innocent reason.  Roan decided to work out the holes in the story as he rode the rest of the way to Erchlochy Castle.
     
    “Roan?”
     
    He turned Isla, surprised to find her standing amid the hay and stalls.
     
    “Ye really do mean to ride today?” she asked.  Roan wondered if he was imagining the hint of