Chapter 19 #2
The joy faded from her face, but she still gave him a small smile of understanding.
“It’s difficult to tell my father anything these days, isn’t it?
No one wants to upset him.” She patted his hand reassuringly.
“Don’t fret. I’ll simply tell him I won’t have you, that I find you uncouth and repulsive. ”
Philip laughed softly. “My thanks—I think.” He removed his ring and held it out to her.
She took it, raising her brows quizzically.
“Give it to Isobel for me. Tell her if she needs me, she has only to look. And please, tell no one of this.”
Gillian looked at the ring, her face grave, then she tucked it away in her bodice. “I promise.”
“And tell her…” He looked down at his hands, clenched hard on his knees, and sighed, releasing the anger that had bound him up. “Tell her I understand.”
Isobel’s sleep was fitful—filled with images of her night with Philip, yet colored with a film of sorrow, as if she watched through a frosted glazed window.
When she finally woke she continued to lie in the darkened bed with the curtains drawn, staring at the carved wooden top of the bed.
Was he gone? Traveling south to find his sister?
Would she ever see him again? Somehow she knew Philip would go to great lengths to avoid her, perhaps even severing his friendship with her father, and her heart broke a little more.
She never meant to make such a mess of things.
Slowly, she became aware of a soft humming and turned her head vaguely to stare at the back side of the curtains. Gillian. Relief washed through her that she must not endure this loss living in empty, loveless Attmore Manor, where everyone was afraid to touch her.
Isobel slid through the curtains into the sunlit room. Gillian looked up from her sewing and smiled. “Good afternoon! You are lazy—you must not have slept at all last night.”
Isobel’s face flushed as she shuffled to her chest, muscles she hadn’t know she possessed aching and protesting her movement. She rummaged about until she found her gloves. Her own feelings were raw; she couldn’t handle anyone else’s just then. She slipped on her gloves and turned to Gillian.
“I suppose I must face Father today.”
Gillian nodded sympathetically. “Aye, I’m afraid you must. But worry not—he suspects nothing and is actually quite well this morn.” Gillian set her sewing in her lap and raised her brows. “Father doesn’t want me to marry the Frenchman anymore. He has someone else in mind.”
Isobel came to the hearth and sat beside Gillian. “A Scotsman?”
Gillian nodded.
Isobel caught her sister’s hands and squeezed. “That’s wonderful!” When Gillian didn’t smile, Isobel asked, “Is he old?”
“No—he’s young and handsome.”
“Then why aren’t you happy?”
“He wants me to wed Sir Philip Kilpatrick.”
Isobel gaped at her a moment before averting her eyes, staring at their joined hands. Her head spun and she felt as if she might bock. “What did Sir Philip say to this?”
“He did not say nay.”
Isobel’s hands tightened involuntarily on her sister’s, unable to even consider Philip wed to her own sister. Unthinkable.
“But I offered to do it for him,” Gillian said.
Isobel looked up, confused.
Gillian smiled. “Like you, he can’t seem to tell Father how he truly feels. Everyone is so afraid of disappointing Da—has anyone thought for a moment that what our father truly wants is for us all to be happy?”
“What about you? You’re going to marry an old man in France—would you dare tell Father that you’d rather die?”
Gillian sighed. “I know, I know—but after speaking with Sir Philip, I have reconsidered. I’m going to tell Father that I want to marry neither the Frenchman nor Sir Philip.
I’ll beg him to find someone else, someone more like Rose’s Jamie or your earl.
” She squeezed Isobel’s hands. “And I think you must tell Da that you want Sir Philip.”
Isobel shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Philip won’t have me…he hates me. And my marriage to Kincreag is very important.”
Gillian made a scoffing noise.
“I am serious, Gilly. Lord Kincreag can protect us from what is happening in Scotland. We are witches, and the whole world hates us for what we are. Father is right to wed me to him. It’s not just about my happiness. It’s about all of our lives.”
Gillian looked down. “Forgive me. I forget that because I’m not a witch.”
Isobel knew the difference tore her sister up. She didn’t know what to say. Despite the danger, Isobel would not trade the magic she’d received from her mother to be normal. It was a part of her mother, and she cherished it.
“Magic is not everything,” Isobel finally said.
“When you’re a MacDonell, it seems like it is.”
They sat in silence for a long while.
“Oh,” Gillian said. She unbuttoned the top of her bodice, reached inside, and withdrew a ring. Philip’s ring. The topaz stone glinted at Isobel in the sunlight.
Gillian offered it to Isobel. “He told me to tell you that if you need him, you have only to look. And that he understands…whatever that means.”
Isobel took the ring reverently, glad for her gloves, knowing she couldn’t bear to feel him. It would break her heart all over again. It was breaking anyway, from this final gesture of protection. A tear dripped from her chin onto the ring.
“What difference does it make which of us he weds?” Gillian said. “Father approved him for me, why not for you?”
Isobel shook her head, unable to look up from the topaz ring, even as it swam in and out of focus with her tears. “I can’t!”
Gillian made a rude noise. “Fine. If you won’t marry him, I will.”
Isobel’s head jerked up, pinning her sister with a look of astonishment. “You wouldn’t!”
Gillian nodded determinedly. “I will. I do not want to go to France. I do not want to marry an old man.”
“But…but you said he didn’t want to wed you!”
Gillian shrugged. “What matter? He won’t say nay to Da, so if I say I want nothing more than to marry Sir Philip, I shall have him. Sir Philip is cowardly enough to go along with it. And you will sit cowardly by and say naught.”
“He is not cowardly,” Isobel mumbled through stiff lips.
Gillian ignored her. “I refuse to be miserable if I don’t have to be.”
Isobel just stared at her sister in disbelief.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Gillian picked up her sewing again. “If you are afraid to grab him, you have to live with the consequences.”
Isobel was speechless. Her sister was right.
Why should she miss a chance to change her fate just because Isobel was afraid to change her own?
And the only reason Philip said nothing was because she’d made it clear to him she didn’t want him to—that she was determined to do her father’s will—regardless of the cost to them both.
Isobel’s gaze turned on her sister, who stared at her expectantly.
“What about Kincreag?” Isobel whispered, excitement edging her voice.
“What about him? He’s a fine-looking man—powerful and rich—he’ll not suffer just because a MacDonell lass jilted him.”
Isobel grabbed Gillian’s arm urgently. “No—that’s not what I mean! Why don’t you marry Kincreag? He told me he didn’t care which of us he wed. He’s doing it for Father.”
Gillian’s gray eyes widened, and her hand fluttered on her breast. “Oh! I hadn’t thought of that. Mmmm—yes, I’d like that.”
Isobel tilted her head, observing the flush that rose in her sister’s cheeks with fascination. “You like him!”
Gillian shrugged casually. “I certainly like the look of him. And I think he’s all gruff and growl, really. Beneath that scowl is a decent man. I’m sure of it.”
“What about the rumors that he killed his wife?” At that thought Isobel wondered if perhaps it was a bad idea to send sweet Gillian into the dragon’s lair. “Mayhap this a bad idea.”
“No!” Gillian gripped her arm back. “It’s a perfect idea. It behooves us to go to Da with a plan. As for the rumors—that’s all they are. It’s foolish to give them more weight than they deserve. Perhaps that’s why he’s so sour—because everyone believes the worst of him.”
“I don’t know,” Isobel said uncertainly.
“You don’t have to. I know what I want. Do you?”
Isobel nodded, Philip’s ring clutched in her gloved hand. She was happy suddenly. If Philip hated her, he would not have sent her his ring. She would not ruin the gift of a second chance. “Yes. I love him, Gillian. I don’t know how I would go on without him.”
Gillian smiled. “Then don’t.”