Isle of the Blessed Quotes

“Reaching into his sporran, he pulled out a small bundle wrapped in fine linen. “I want to give ye somethin’, somethin’I want ye to wear this day.”Carefully, he unfolded the linen and held his hand out to her.
Josephine’s eyes widened with curiosity and joy. “’Tis beautiful, Graeme!”
“It be a brooch that each MacAulay lad receives when he turns six and ten. I want ye to have it.”
Josephine carefully took it and studied it closely. Made of pewter, in the center of the brooch were two hands, one decidedly masculine, the other feminine. The masculine hand held the feminine hand in his palm. In the center of her palm was a tiny ruby. To one side, the circle had been engraved to look like stars twinkling near a crescent moon. On the other were the words aeterna devotione. Eternal devotion.
Tears filled her eyes as she looked into his. “Ye want me to have this?”
“Aye, I do, Joie,”he said as he placed a kiss on her forehead. “Me great-great-great grandfather presented a brooch just like this to his wife, me great-great-great grandmum. But no’until the first anniversary of their weddin’day. ’Twas a symbol of the great love they had found with one another. ’Tis tradition for the MacAulay men to only give their brooch to a woman who has stolen their heart, a woman they love and trust above all else.”
Tears trailed down her cheeks, her heart beating so rapidly she was certain it would burst through her breastbone at any moment.
“I do no’quite understand how it happened, or how it happened so quickly, Joie, but it has. Amorem in corde meo ut arctius coccino colloeandus arctius ideo astra,”Graeme said first in Latin and then again in Gaelic, “Toisc go bhfuil do ghrá eitseáilte isteach i mo chroí i corcairdhearg, mar sin tá sé eitseáilte amonst na réaltaí.”He placed a tender kiss on her cheek. “As yer love be etched into me heart in crimson, so it be etched amongst the stars,”he told her. “As me grandda said those words to me grandmum all those many years ago, I say them to ye.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Three years later he had another opportunity to see the little girl.
Helmert had been tearing through the keep, bellowing like a mad bull as he searched for his sister. “Josephine , I swear I’ll rip yer head off when I find ye!”
’Twas eerily similar to Graeme’s first visit.
Remembering his first encounter with the tree sprite, Graeme went in search of Josephine. The first place he looked was the auld oak tree, but she was not there. After a careful search out of doors, he went inside. She was not in the larder or the kitchen. It took more than half an hour before he finally located her in her father’s study, hiding under the large desk.
Graeme crouched low so he could see her better. It didn’t appear she had grown much in three years, though she had lost the cherubic face. This time she wore a dark green dress and matching slippers.
The last time he’d seen her, she’d been quite terrified of her brother. Now, she looked quite angry.
“I’ll nae tell, Josephine,” he whispered, offering her a kind smile.
A scrunched brow said she didn’t believe him.
“Pray tell, what did ye hide this time?” he asked, hoping his amused tone would help lighten the mood.
Reluctantly, she finally confessed. “His strop.”
Graeme raised a confused brow. “Why would ye hide his strop?”
The little girl looked at him as though he were quite daft. “So he will not beat me with it.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“When it was just the two of them, Josephine — or Joie as her mother liked to call her — did not have to hide her feelings, did not have to pretend she was something she wasn’t.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Valeria Victrix gave one another, either as a salutation or a farewell. It was their code. Victory and honor.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Ye take me breath away, lass,” he told her.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Albert,” she asked as she choked back tears. “Are ye sayin’ that ye love me?”
When he smiled, little wrinkles formed around his eyes. Eyes that twinkled and grew damp. “Aye lass, ye have the way of it. I do love ye.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Do no’ worry if ye do no’ feel the same about me,” he told her.
“Because I be worth the wait?”
“Aye lass, ye be worth the wait.”
“Even if it takes a good long while?” she asked softly.
With a nod, he replied, “Aye. Even if it takes a good long while.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“She says ye never left me side?”she asked.
He felt his cheeks grow warm. Clearing his throat once, he finally answered. “Aye.”
“Why?”she asked.
Why? For the past four days, he’d imagined everything he would say to her as soon as he found her. Her illness delayed the heartfelt words he had wanted to have with her. Now, when the moment finally arrived, his mind turned blank. All the sweet words he’d planned to tell her fled on the wings of a frantically beating heart.
“Ye came fer me,”she whispered. “Ye came fer me and ye killed Helmert. And ye never left me side.”Her voice was filled with disbelief. “Why?”
He stammered for a moment, tripping over his own tongue. “I,”he paused, searching for the right words, the words he hoped would not terrify her. “Ye be a fine woman, Laurin. I’ve grown quite fond of ye these past weeks.”
She studied him closely for a moment. “So fond of me that ye were willin’to risk yer life to save mine?”Her tone said his answer made little sense.
“Aye,”he whispered. Suddenly his mouth felt dry, his tongue thick. “Fond enough to risk my own life for yours.”
“Fond, like ye’d be fond of a dear friend, or somethin’more?”
He could not understand why she asked that particular question. Refusing to read anything into her question, he replied. “Somethin’more, lass. Far more than friendship.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at him. It made his gut wrench, thinking he’d brought her a moment of discomfort or sorrow.
Leaning over, he took her hand in his. “Laurin, I ken ye do no’have the same feelin’s for me as I do for ye. I ken ye may never have them, but it matters no’to me. I would be willin’to wait an entire lifetime on nothin’more than a wish and a prayer, in case, just in case some day ye might be able to return those feelins.”
He’d not pressure her into anything, would not beg her for her hand or her heart.
“How can ye say that?”she asked, swiping away an errant tear. “How could ye wait a lifetime for me?”
With a slow shake of his head, he smiled. “Och! Lass, ye’d be well worth the wait.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Josephine placed the cloth back in the basin then filled a cup with cold water. Helping Laurin sit up to drink, she encouraged her to sip slowly.
“Sister of my heart, I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you awake and without the fever.”
Laurin smiled and thanked her. Falling back against her pillows, she asked, “The Gladius?”
“’ Tis safe with Graeme. And it will remain in his possession until we have a daughter of our own.”
Laurin envied her friend, but not with spite or malice. “I be so verra glad that ye have found true love,” she told her.
Josephine returned her smile, leaned in closely to whisper in her ear. “If you open your eyes and your heart , I believe you will discover you have found it as well.”
Confused, her brow knotted. “What do ye mean?”
Josephine pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Look about the room, my sister, and you will find I speak the truth.”
Laurin looked at Albert with a confounded expression.
Josephine whispered one last thought before quitting the room. “He never left your side.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Perfectly content to live out the remainder of his days simply being her friend, he would be forever grateful if some day she might love him in return.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Ye be a sight for sore eyes, lass,” he told her. “But we’ve no’ much time.”
He handed her up to Marcum, who placed her on his lap and wrapped his arms around her.
“Nay!” she pleaded, her mind dizzy with fear, relief, terror. “I want Albert!”
Marcum started to pat her hands comfortingly when he realized her wrists were bound. He removed his dirk and began to carefully cut away the leather straps.
“Where do ye hurt, lass?” he asked.
Laurin gave a rapid shake of her head. “Everywhere, but I do no’ think anythin’ is broken,” she told him through chattering teeth.
Making certain she’d not fall, he removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders.
“Where is Albert?” she implored as she searched for him. “I want Albert!”
“Och, lass, Albert be a wee bit busy at the moment,” he explained. “He has a few men to kill.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Before she could utter another word, Albert’s voice boomed from the hallway. “I will kill him. If he has so much as hurt one hair on her head, I will kill him.”Albert stood with his hands on his hips, in full battle gear. Chain mail, helm, sword and dirks. The half helm did not cover his face entirely. And it could do nothing to mask his fury. Purple with rage, his eyes afire with barely controlled rage, he stood with his shoulders back and a fierce glare that warned he meant every word he spoke.
“Albert, I be so sorry,”she told him. “I do no’ken how he came to know about the sword or why he wants it.”
“Joie,”Albert said as he took one step forward. “I do no’give one bloody wit about the Gladius. Ye are me sister now and I would never do a thing to bring you any pain. But Laurin? I love her with all me heart.”
He needn’t say more. The pain, the anguish, blended with fury, were clearly evident.
“I will not ask you to show any of them any mercy,”she told him.“Laurin is the sister of my heart. Please,”she choked on her words. “Bring her home.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Elise ignored her complaints and eased her deeper into the water, until it was almost to her chest. It was getting more difficult for her to keep her feet on the smooth rocks, and panic began to swell.
She took in a deep breath of air, frightened that she might go under at any moment.
“Wheest, lass,”Elise told her. “Ye’ll be fine as long as ye do no’panic. Panic is what kills a person.”
“Are ye sure it be not lungs filled with water that does a person in?”Laurin snapped.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Now, are ye goin’ to let me teach ye how to swim?”
Reckoning ’twas better to let Elise have her way than to have the topic turn back to Albert, she reluctantly agreed.
“’ Tis terrifyin’,” she murmured as she stared out at the calm water .
From somewhere inside her, a little voice whispered, ye’ve been through far more terrifyin’ times than this. Taking a deep breath and straightening her back, she decided she could at least try.
“Verra well,” she said in a resolute tone. “But I swear, if ye let me drown, I’ll haunt ye all the rest of my days.”
Elise laughed heartily. “I swear, I’ll no’ let ye drown. Albert would kill me.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Albert,”she said before taking a drink of cider. “Do ye think we could ride this day? I would verra much like to see more of this land I shall be callin’home.”
’Twas all he could do to keep his heart inside his chest as hope soared. Doing his best to keep his excitement contained, he said, “Aye, we can. I shall see if Bruce or Traigh would like to join us,”he said as he stood.
Before he could walk away to search for someone, anyone who would be willing to ride with them, Laurin stopped him. “Albert, if ye can no’find anyone, I’ll still ride with ye.”
Before he could do something foolish, such as offer for her hand that very moment, he gave her a nod and left quickly.
’Tis just a ride, he admonished his excited heart. ’Tis just a ride.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“I only want her to feel safe. No’just with me, but with all of us.”
Marcum smiled thoughtfully from behind the desk. “She will, son. It will simply take time.”He sipped at his whisky, studying his son closely for a long while. “Are ye willin’to wait?”
From what his father told him, it could be years before Laurin felt safe enough to allow him entry into her heart. Years. “It be true, that I be no’gettin’any younger,”he answered.
“None of us are,”Marcum replied dryly.
There was not another young lass on their island, within their clan, who had ever made his heart thrum so feverishly against his chest. Laurin’s beauty, her smile, were rivaled by none. From the first moment he’d set eyes on her, he simply knew. Knew to his bones, that she was the one. He’d settle for no other.
“Aye, I can wait. As long as she needs.”
Marcum quirked a questioning brow. “Years if need be?”
He gave a curt nod of his head before downing the last of his whisky. “A lifetime if she needs it.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“How do I make her see that she need no’ fear me?” Albert asked his father.
They were sitting opposite one another at Marcum’s desk in his private room. Though the hour was quite late , the sun still shone through the open window enough to negate the need for many candles.
“Ye can no’ make her do anythin’, ” Marcum replied. “All ye can do is show her. Let her see ye mean her no harm, that ye want only her happiness. The rest be up to her.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Irline crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at him, her curiosity quite evident. “A boon?”
“Aye, just one boon.”
“Tell me what boon it be that ye seek. I’ll no’ say aye or nay until I hear it.”
He was quite thankful that she was at least willing to listen. “Let me have just a few moments with Joie, alone, without all the women around.”
“Are ye daft?” she asked with a most serious tone.
“Aye, I fear so,” he said as he offered her a warm smile. “All I ask is fer a few moments alone with her. I’ll even keep the door open and ye can watch to make certain I do no’ do anythin’ either one of us would be ashamed of.”
Irline studied him closely for several long moments, sizing him up, looking for any hint of insincerity or deceit. Finally, she gave a curt nod of her head. “Verra well,” she said.
Graeme was so overcome with relief that he scooped her up and hugged her. “Put me down, now, Graeme MacAulay!” she said as she smacked the back of his head.
He was still smiling when he carefully set her back on her feet. “Thank ye, Irline, from the bottom of me heart.”
“Do no’ thank me yet, Graeme. If yer mum finds out, I’ll lie and tell her ye held us all at sword point.”
“’ Tis a risk I be willin’ to take,” he said.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Traigh began the taunting first. “Pray, tell me brother, be there any truth to these rumors floatin’ about the keep?”
Graeme shot him a look of warning. It didn’t do a bit of good.
“What rumors be those, brother Traigh?” Albert asked, feigning ignorance on the matter.
Traigh crossed his arms over his chest. “Why, the rumors that our brother Graeme has fallen in love with our Joie. So much so that they will be married this verra day.”
Graeme had two choices. He could tell his brothers to shut their mouths and leave him be or he could stand like a man and admit the truth, at least as much of it as he could without looking like a fool.
“Aye,” he said as he stepped toward them. “The rumors be true. I have fallen hopelessly in love with my Joie, and aye, we will be married this verra day. Before the evenin’ meal, in fact.”
Traigh and Albert were momentarily stunned at Graeme’s open admission. But ’twas short-lived. Broad smiles broke out on their faces and soon, they were congratulating him with hugs and heavy slaps on the back.
When the celebrating was over, Traigh asked, “Do ye ken what ye’re to do this night? After the weddin’?”
Graeme’s smile evaporated almost instantly. “If ye utter one unkind, disrespectful word as it pertains to consummation and me wife, I swear, I will beat ye within an inch of yer life.”
Traigh quickly wiped away the smile and attempted to appear serious and fully chastised. “Aye, Albert, he be in love, let there be no doubt.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Love letters? He supposed that was an apt description, though they certainly hadn’t started out that way. In the beginning, he looked at the letters as more of a fact-finding endeavor. By the seventh letter, he knew he was well on his way to being smitten. By the last, he knew he had fallen hopelessly in love with her.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“I will no’ be tellin’ ye ‘I told ye so’, but I will be usin’ words to that effect.” Marcum said as he sat behind the table in his study. “I was right, aye?”
Graeme knew any attempt to deny that everyone else had been right would seem ludicrous. Instead, he paced around his father’s study, his mind sprinting from one thought to another.
“As was yer mum,” Marcum said as he poured himself a cup of fine whisky. “And yer brothers. They were right as well.”
Graeme stopped pacing long enough to glare at his father.
The man sat tall and proud in his chair, a look of deep satisfaction etched on his face.
“Are ye quite done?”
Marcum laughed, a deep, rumbling laugh that made his belly and shoulders shake. “Well, the cook, stable master, and blacksmith knew it as well.”
Graeme let out a long heavy breath. “Aye, everyone on God’s earth knew but me.”
“Aye, ye have the way of it, son.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Their long overdue kiss was interrupted far too soon for either of their likings.
“Well, it be about time!”
Nothing on God’s earth can douse a man’s ardor like the sound of his mother’s voice.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“She stood before him in a pale green dress, her hair unbound and tumbling down her back, her smile –the one he should have seen days ago –was enough to light up the darkest night.
His mouth had suddenly become dry and paralyzed, as if he’d been born without the ability to speak. Or swallow. Or think any coherent thought. Graeme felt all at once foolish, immature and unworthy.
He was about to turn and run away like a boy, when Josephine all but flung herself into his embrace, twining her slender arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest.
“Graeme,”she said, a note of glee in her voice. “I’ve waited a very long time for you.”
The sensation of feeling foolish, immature and unworthy fell away as he wrapped his own arms around her. Why did I resist this for all these years?
She pushed away slightly to look up at him. He studied every inch of her lovely face. Josephine was quite beautiful, with her creamy skin and oval shaped face. Her green eyes reminded him at once of the summer grass that lined a French countryside. Dark lashes surrounded those eyes –eyes that were sparkling with joy and excitement as they looked into his. A pert, little nose and deliciously looking full, pink lips, which he was quite certain would feel as soft as a whisper against his own.
He wondered then if anyone would object if he married her now. This very day. This very moment.
“Ye’re beautiful,”he said.
Those cream colored cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink when he gave her the compliment.
“Jose—”he stopped himself. “Joie, I ken I am wholly unworthy of ye, but would ye do me the distinct honor of marryin’me?”
Josephine had already agreed to such, more than four years ago. She had learned, however, through his letters, that it had been quite important to Graeme that he be able to marry a woman of his own choosing.
Her heart felt close to bursting from her chest.
He was choosing her of his own free will.
A joy-filled smile curved on her face and she flung her arms around his neck. “Aye, Graeme MacAulay, I will marry you.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“What was your first kiss like?”he had asked.
She answered, “I do not know as I have yet to experience such. Mayhap I should find a willing young man to help teach me how to kiss before I marry. With you being such a worldly and experienced man, mayhap you would want a wife who is just as experienced and worldly?”
His response left her laughing almost uncontrollably.
“It would bring me much relief to know you have not one grain of experience with kissing. I would hate to think you were comparing my kisses with anyone else’s. Equally important is the fact that I might be drawn and quartered before our wedding day, for gutting any man who dare even think about kissing you. You would, in truth, be saving countless lives by remaining ignorant on the matter.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“I was far too young when my mother passed away. I was unable to have a conversation with her on the matter of consummation. Your mother however, has been very helpful in that regard. She assures me that if you do everything correctly, then I shall quite enjoy that aspect of our marriage. She has also told me that if you have any questions on the matter, seek out her counsel, for it was she who taught your father the proper way to please a woman.

Within the hour she had Graeme’s short response on the matter.

Joie,
I find myself asking another boon of you. In the future, I ask that you never mention my mother or my father when we discuss the topic of consummation. I fear now that my sleep this night will be plagued with nightmares.
The hour is now late and I must bid you adieu. Sleep well, sweet Josephine.
Graeme”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“While she spent her time in correspondence, Laurin spent her free time with Albert.
Neither Laurin nor Albert, or anyone else inside the keep for that matter , could quite understand the appeal that Josephine and Graeme found in writing.
“Do ye plan on marryin ’ the man through letters?” Laurin asked when she had returned from the evening meal. “Mayhap ye want to marry him by proxy.”
Josephine simply shook her head and smiled as she went back to writing yet another letter to Graeme.
“How will ye consummate yer marriage?” Laurin asked. “Will ye do that by proxy as well?”
Josephine’s face burned a brilliant shade of red as she looked away. She was at that moment responding to a question Graeme had posed on that very topic.
Laurin shook her head and threw up her hands in defeat . “I am goin’ to bed.”
Josephine returned to her letter.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“When my father first wrote to inform me of our betrothal, I was horrified. I had assumed that, because I was the youngest son, I would be able to take a wife of my choosing. I was certain that, had I been given the chance, I would have chosen a smart, witty, worldly, intelligent woman whom I could impress with my boundless knowledge of the world. I assumed you were not that woman. I assumed that you were not educated, that you could not even read or write your own name. I assumed that I was doomed to a boring life with a boring woman who could never appreciate just how highly intelligent I was.
In short, I was an utter idiot.
It is you who impresses me, sweet Josephine. You leave me in awe. Not just for your wit and keen mind, but for your heart as well. I can only pray now that you will someday find it in your heart to forgive this dimwitted man you have been promised to.
If you wish to break our betrothal, while it would certainly cleave my heart in twain, I would never hold it against you, for it is nothing less than what I deserve.
With a hopeful heart,
Graeme”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Had he read that first letter, he imagined he would have come for her sooner. After reading the next, he would have been waiting outside the gates of her keep like a besotted fool and carried her off at the first hour possible. By the time he read her sixth letter, he was certain of it.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“Josephine, please wait,” he said. Even he could hear his voice catch in his throat.
She turned to face him and wiped away a tear with the sleeve of her cloak.
When he had been searching frantically for her, he had thought of what he’d say, of how he would apologize and beg for her forgiveness. But now his mind was blank and he was beginning to feel quite foolish, the one feeling above all others he detested . He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “Ye’re beautiful.”
Josephine looked as though she either did not believe him or those were not the words she wanted to hear.
He cleared his throat once, then again. “I did no’ want to think that about ye. I did no’ want to find ye beautiful.”
“You mean you did not want to find me at all,” she told him. “I know you are against this marriage, Graeme. For what reasons, I do not know. I can only assume that you find me beneath you.”
This was the most they had spoken to one another in years. She certainly did not mince words. Her words stung, but they were nothing but truth. No vehemence, no anger, just simply put.
“That be true,” he said before quickly adding, “I mean, that was true.” He took a step toward her. “By now, I am certain me family has told ye that I can be a stubborn, hard-headed fool.”
“I was able to glean that on my own,” she told him.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“I still cannae believe we are finally here,” Laurin said, sounding more hopeful than she had just moments ago. “Ye’re certain we will be safe here?”
Josephine smiled thoughtfully. “What do you think?”
Laurin thought about it for a few moments before she answered. “Well, they do seem kind, aye? And so far, no’ one of them has tried to lift me skirts. And they do no’ drink and curse and carry on like the three eejits did.”
The “three eejits” she referred to were Helmert, Darvord and Clarence . ’Twas a living nightmare the three men had put them through, though Laurin suffered far more than Josephine had. Trusting anyone was not an easy feat for Laurin, and who could blame her after all the “three eejits ” had done to her over the past few years? Though it was comforting that she believed the MacAulay men were kind, Josephine knew it would be a very long time before Laurin put complete trust in any man.
“I agree,” Josephine told her. “They are a marked improvement over the eejits.”
Laurin giggled. “Pigs be an improvement over the eejits.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed

“She speaks French,” Graeme muttered.
Traigh turned quite serious and nodded his head. “Aye, she be speakin’ French. Mayhap she learned it from listenin’ to ye and yer French friend speakin’ it these past days.” Though his tone sounded serious, there was a decidedly sarcastic undertone to it.
“Ye knew,” Graeme said as he glared angrily at his brother.
Traigh feigned innocence. “Moi?”
Graeme’s glare intensified. “Why did ye no’ tell me? Why did she no’ tell me?”
Traigh smiled thoughtfully and placed a hand on Graeme’s shoulder . “Ye did no’ ask.”
― Suzan Tisdale, Isle of the Blessed