Mystic Mountains

still, holding his gaze.
    "I know no such thing, Thelma. You have my blessing, and may you get all you deserve." With that he turned on his heel and walked out.
    "Oh Bella, you poor child," Thelma cried, going to where Isabella had slumped into a chair, her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving with sobs.
    "'Tis his and we all know it. He does too, but he's so stubborn he'll not admit it in this life. Dougal is a good man, he'll do well by you, have no fear."
    "That 's what worries me more than anything, Thelma. He's too good for me. He'll regret it, I know he will."
    "There now," Thelma crooned. "He 'll be happier than a dog with two tails, you'll see. And in a while you'll come to see that 'tis all for the best."
    "Best for who?" Isabella saw the truth in Thelma 's eyes despite her soothing words.
    If she wed Dougal the marriage would be doomed to failure, and they both knew it.

 
     
     
    Chapter Twenty One
     
    Her wedding day. Like a ball rolling down a hill, once the momentum began it was impossible to halt the progress of the preparations. Like a woman in a trance she'd drifted through the days leading up to this one.
    Quietly opening the door Isabella stepped out into the yard. The sun was a tiny glimmer on the horizon, sending rays of pink and grey sweeping into the sky. It was blessedly cool after a long sultry night.
    She'd tossed and turned in the wider bed Tiger surprised her by purchasing for her and Dougal. The cramped bedroom was more stifling than ever and her night had been plagued with the realization that from this day onwards she would share it with her husband.
    Suppressing a sob she made her way to the water barrel. Sticky and uncomfortable, she'd decided to bathe before the others began to stir, in the small alcove beside the barrel, where the men usually washed. Thelma and Isabella normally carried water inside, but this morning, probably because of the overpowering feeling of being stifled all night, she had an urge to be in the fresh air.
    A flash of white caught her eye as she rounded the side of the house. Isabella pulled up short, her drying cloth clutched to her chest when she realized with a shock it was Tiger. She turned to retreat, but he called, "Who's there? Is that you Dougal?" She stood rigid as a statue. Her hope he wouldn't notice her, so she could slip away, was foolish, for of course he saw her.
    "Bella, what the hell are you doing out here?" There was an uneven edge to his soft question, and she blinked as he faced her. He was naked, except f or a piece of toweling held in front of him to shield his private parts.
    Turning to flee, she tripped, then was brought up short by his hand on her wrist. With a jerk he pulled her round to face him. The towel had fallen and her own cloth dropped from her fingers. He seemed unworried by the nakedness which was doing strange things to her insides.
    "I thought to bathe out here. It 's so lovely and cool, and it's been so hot all night." She refused to meet his stare, instead gazing at the golden hair arrowing down his broad chest to circle his navel.
    "Aye, it 's been hot," he murmured. There was a strange note in his voice and she lifted her chin to look him in the eye, then wished she hadn't when she saw the heat there. "Find it hard to sleep, did you? I must say I haven't been sleeping too well myself lately. What do you suppose it is keeping us awake, eh, Bella?"
    "Let me go," she pleaded.
    While talking he'd stepped closer. So close she could feel the heat coming off his body. Pain sliced through her when she recalled how it had felt pressed against her own softer flesh. How he had murmured words of encouragement when she'd tentatively reached out to touch it, to run her fingers through that springy hair now beneath her captured hand.
    "I am. Letting you go, I mean. I 'm letting Dougal have what should rightfully have been mine."
    She hated the sneer i n his voice. "I was never yours." She tried to sound defiant but was ashamed of the huskiness in her voice.
    "Oh yes you were, dear heart, you were mine before you were anyone else 's. And don't forget it."
    "I 've forgotten it long ago."
    His laugh was bitter as he pressed her to his body. With a small cry she struggled against him, but it only served to arouse him more.
    "You'll never forget it as long as you live. Never forget the taste of me or the smell of me, as I'll never forget the experience."
    Like a summer breeze his warm breath drifted over her face.
    "Why are you