Chapter 20
Isobel spent the day with her sisters, trying to decide how best to approach their father.
It wasn’t that they feared his anger. He’d never raised a hand against any of them or spoken harshly to them.
They feared upsetting the delicate state of his health with unhappy news.
Rose was especially uneasy about it as she felt their father was finally showing some improvement.
“Can’t this wait until he’s stronger?” Rose asked again, frowning stubbornly.
They were closed up in their chamber, the door bolted.
Earlier, Rose had removed her bodice and rolled up the sleeves of her linen shift to mix a philter for their father.
She hadn’t bothered to dress herself again and paced the floor half-dressed.
Gillian sat calmly before the fire, sewing, not a fold of her emerald silk gown or a glossy sable curl out of place.
Isobel slouched on the hearth, dressed, but still struggling to work a comb through her hair. “How much longer?” she asked. “I’m to marry Earl Kincreag in a sennight!”
Rose sighed. “Can’t we stall the wedding? You don’t understand how ill Father was when I arrived just a sennight ago. He looked as if he were ready to die at any moment, and now…now there’s some hope. What if he doesn’t take this news well?”
Gillian made an exasperated sound. “That’s what we’re trying to do—to make it sound good. It will be a bit of a shock to him, but it’s not the end of the world. One of us is still marrying the earl, and that really is what he wants, after all.”
Rose shook her head. “No—it will not play out so perfectly.”
“How do you know?” Isobel asked, throwing down the comb in disgust. Her arm ached, and her hair only seemed to be becoming more tangled. She’d have to get Gillian to comb it for her later. Rose would no doubt rip her hair out by the roots if she tried.
“Because,” Rose said, “these things never do. Let’s just consider for a moment the foul temper of the earl.
” She pinned Isobel with a hard look. “You spent a great deal of time practically alone with Sir Philip—no lady’s maid or any other type of proper accompaniment.
Now you want to marry him. It looks to me as if you are damaged goods—and it’s going to look to Kincreag as if he’s been cuckolded. ”
“But we’re not married!” Isobel cried.
“But a technicality. That betrothal contract makes you as good as married, and he will be sore vexed. Will he even want Gillian after such a game? He might not trust any of us if he discovers we are all in on it.”
Isobel looked at Gillian hopelessly. Rose made too many good points.
“So what do you suggest I do? That I marry him anyway? I am damaged goods!”
Rose shook her head, irritated. She looked fierce as a Viking, her long sleek auburn hair spilling about her shoulders and her midnight eyes flashing.
“Think, you two ninnies! Stall the earl! Gillian, charm him—make him think he wants you, rather than Isobel. Isobel, be a shrew. Make yourself undesirable.”
Gillian and Isobel exchanged a dubious look.
“He’s not going to reconsider in a few days, dear,” Gillian said. “I appreciate your confidence in my charms, but they are inflated. Besides, as the eldest, Isobel has an additional enticement I do not posses. If Uncle Roderick dies without issue, Glen Laire passes to Isobel’s husband.”
Rose nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, I’d thought of that. But as you said, he is filthy rich. What’s one more estate to him if he could have you in his bed?”
Gillian looked at Rose incredulously. “You must be jesting. Isobel is beautiful—and she comes with the possibility of lands. She is more desirable.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “You’re not listening to me. She will be rude and unpleasant to him. She’ll make herself look like a hag. You, on the other hand, will be as stunning as ever, kind and gracious, hanging on his every word.”
“What words?” Gillian said, becoming more distressed by the moment. “He hardly speaks!”
“He doesn’t seem the type of man to be swayed by flirtations and pretty faces,” Isobel offered. “I don’t think he views marriage that way. He clearly said he didn’t care which of us he got, and by that time he’d seen all three of us and preferred not a one of us over the other.”
Rose glared at them both. “Very well, if you two continue to be blockheads, I will devise the plan. Isobel—you are deathly ill. In my exalted position of castle healer, I will assure him it is impossible for you to stand up, let alone go through with a ceremony or bedding. If he insists on seeing you, I have something guaranteed to make you vomit all over him. In the meantime, Gillian will try to seduce Kincreag.”
“Seduce!” Gillian protested. “You said charm a moment ago!”
Rose directed her gaze to Gillian’s ample bosom, and said, “You have only to rub against him, darling, and he’ll be charmed and seduced, both.”
Gillian flushed and plucked at her bodice, hunching her shoulders slightly.
“I’m not discounting Gillian’s obvious attributes,” Isobel interrupted. “But I’ve met the man. I think he’s frozen both above and below the belt.”
Rose frowned thoughtfully. “That may be…He doesn’t seem to fancy women.”
Gillian’s hand went over her mouth and her eyes widened. “Do you think he fancies men?”
“No. I don’t think he fancies people.” Rose paced the room, her arms crossed over her chest. “Let’s see.
Perhaps seduction is a bit drastic. Why not just…
keep him distracted—so that the feels he knows you better than Isobel, and when Father is stronger and we propose the new matches, he will not be so…
offended. I’ll make sure he hears the most awful stories about you Isobel, so that he’s sure to be repulsed.
After all—whether he fancies men or women, he’ll prefer to wed a lass like Gillian than the horror he’ll think Isobel is.
” She turned to them, auburn brows arched. “Well? What do you think?”
Isobel shook her head slowly. “Where did you get such a devious mind, Rose?”
“It was a necessity for survival on Skye.” She turned to Isobel. “Get ye into bed. I’ll tell everyone there will be no wedding until you’re well.”
Isobel had just slid beneath the covers when there was a rap on the door. Rose hurried to the door and opened it a crack.
“What?”
Isobel heard some muffled argument, then the door was forced open, and Uncle Roderick burst in, looking extremely annoyed. Isobel quickly shut her eyes, trying to feign illness. It wasn’t hard—the deception made her stomach queasy.
She heard him stride quickly to the bed and stand over her. “What the hell is going on here?” His hand was on her forehead, then her cheeks. “She hasna got a fever.”
After a moment he tapped her cheek lightly. “Open yer eyes, lass.”
Isobel didn’t know what to do. Should she be insensible? Babble incoherently? She decided to pretend unconsciousness and simply lie there.
“Leave her be, Uncle! She’s very ill!” Rose was there, Isobel could smell the faint scent of mint that drifted from her sister’s hands as she tucked Isobel in more securely.
“My arse she’s ill,” Uncle Roderick said. “What are you three up to?”
“Just what are you accusing us of?” Rose asked indignantly.
He was silent a moment, then Isobel heard him stride across the room. She cracked one eye and saw him standing over Gillian. Gillian calmly placed her sewing in her lap and looked up at him inquiringly.
“Gilly, don’t you lie to me. What are you and yer sisters up to?”
“Nothing. Isobel is ill. She caught a chill last night.”
“Last night,” Roderick scoffed. “You’ll all catch hell from me if ye dinna tell me what’s going on. Isobel is to marry an earl in a few days. She canna be ill.”
“But alas, she is. The wedding will have to be postponed.” Gillian stood and smiled prettily. “Shall I inform the earl?”
Uncle Roderick placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed her firmly back into her chair. “No. Someone had best be forthcoming right now, or there’ll be trouble.”
“Oh, you used to be fun!” Rose said.
“This is not a game, little girl.” He came back to the bed. “Out with it, Rose.”
The sisters were stubbornly quiet.
“You’re not too old for a flogging—I’ll wield the strap myself if someone doesna talk now!”
When Rose and Gillian still refused to speak, Isobel opened her eyes and sat up. “I don’t want to marry the earl! They’re trying to help me…to stall the marriage.”
He stared at Isobel in confusion. “Stalling wilna help you, lass. What’s the point?”
“The point,” Rose said, “is Father. Since I’ve arrived he is doing so much better. We want to wait until he is stronger before we give him such a shock.”
Gillian had come to the bed, too. She touched their uncle’s arm. “That’s not all. Father wants to marry me to Sir Philip now—but Isobel and I have decided that we’d like to trade husbands. She prefers Sir Philip, and I prefer the earl.”
He blinked down at Gillian. “They are men—not a box of sweetmeats to be tasted and traded about.”
“Why not?” Rose asked. “That’s how they see us. Besides…Sir Philip prefers Isobel, and the earl cares not so long as it’s a warm body.”
Roderick looked at each of them with frustrated disapproval before sitting on the edge of the bed in defeat. “Very well.” He sighed thoughtfully then looked up at Rose with a frown. “Alan’s getting better, ye say? Are ye sure of that?”
“Aye,” Rose said quickly.
Roderick rubbed at his forehead, his frown deepening. “Yer certain he’s not pretending to feel better? For your benefit?”
Rose put her hands on her hips and gave her uncle a condescending look. “I’d know.”
He rubbed his forehead some more, then pinned Isobel with a suspicious look. “I gather this has something to do with where you were last night?”
Isobel nodded. Roderick’s eyes narrowed on her neck, and he reached out, fingering one of the ribbons that dipped into her bodice. He drew it out until he held Philip’s ring in his palm. He exhaled loudly.