The carriage stopped in front of the castle and Isobel was relieved to see Rosalyn hurrying toward them from her garden, waving and smiling. Duncan helped Isobel down. She had not tired of his touch. Would she ever? Nae, she didn’t think so. He winked at her and she blushed, still feeling like a new bride.
Rosalyn ran to them and embraced Duncan first, and then Isobel. “Oh, you both look wonderful! Was it restful? I hear there’s a superb walking path in the hills there above the ocean. Did you happen to take advantage of it?”
Isobel hid a grin. They had gone out for a walk along the cliffs, but it was only because both she and Duncan decided they needed some fresh air. They had rarely left the cottage. That, too, made Isobel blush.
Duncan said, “We did a little walking but we kind of just stayed close to the cottage. The weather, you know…” He clucked his tongue. That coastline could be rough and often whitecaps were as high as a house—but the days they were there, things were calm.
He touched Isobel’s sleeve. “I’ll put the rig away and get the horses settled. Evan can bring in the luggage.” He looked down at her, his eyes smoldering. “I’ll see you inside.”
Rushing warmth spread through her. Had she been worrying for nothing? So far, things were marvelous. Better than marvelous.
As they walked toward the castle, Rosalyn prattled on. “I have rooms ready for you; I hope they will be all right.”
Isobel gave Rosalyn a strange look. “And why wouldn’t they be? I wish you wouldn’t treat us as guests, Rosalyn. I am ready to do my share of work, and if you refuse, I’ll be very angry with you. You know I am unable to sit around and do nothing.” She suddenly remembered Delilah, and she was almost afraid to mention her.
“Did Delilah behave herself?”
Rosalyn rolled her eyes. “It’s a good thing our housekeeper is a mild-mannered woman, else I think they might have come to blows.”
“Oh, dear, I told her she was not to interfere.”
“Not to worry,” Rosalyn assured her. “I found just the thing for her to do.”
“What, pray tell?”
“I have so many exotic plants in the solarium and find I have so little time to tend them. Some need repotting badly; they’ve outgrown their pots. Delilah’s eyes lit up when I asked her if she had a green thumb.”
Isobel raised her eyebrows. “I suppose hers is as green as anyone’s. She does plant a grand garden, and raises the roof when the deer and the rabbits come in to dine on her handiwork.”
“We also got the windows washed; she was adamant about doing them, and I thought it would be all right as long as she had enough help.”
Before they entered the foyer, Isobel took one last look at Rosalyn’s rose garden. It was breathtaking. Everything Rosalyn touched seemed to flourish and thrive. She wondered if there was anything at all Rosalyn couldn’t do well.
Isobel entered the splendid foyer and followed Rosalyn up the wide winding staircase. Portraits of MacNeils going back for generations lined the wall. There were a few pieces of art on stone pedestals in the hallway, but otherwise, it was quite unadorned. Plain, yet elegant.
She stepped into the rooms Rosalyn had prepared for them. “Rosalyn, this is more beautiful than the finest hotel in Edinburgh.”
Rosalyn fluffed the pillows on the enormous bed. “When have you been to Edinburgh, My Lady Isobel?”
The title still made Isobel want to laugh. “Nae, I haven’t, but it’s what I imagine when I think of where the rich and famous stay when they come to town.” The bed was big and wide and canopied. There were at least a dozen pillows artfully strewn across the top, near the headboard. The bedding looked like lush velvet.
“The dressing room is through here.” Rosalyn opened a door and allowed Isobel to walk through first.
The room was as big as her entire bedroom and bathing area at the brothel. Isobel was very grateful, but also felt they were imposing. She reached up and pulled the long hat pin from her hat and took the feathery bonnet off. She tossed it on a shelf, wondering what had possessed her to think she would look like gentry just because she bought a new, garish hat. And she certainly felt out of place here in this splendid castle.
“Do get comfortable, Isobel.” Rosalyn showed her where everything was and before she left, she announced, “There will be tea in the morning room when you’re ready to come down.”
The morning room. What luxury to have so many rooms that they must be named! Isobel shook her head and checked herself in the bevel-edged mirror. She thought she would look different now after all of the lovemaking, but she was her old self, hair like a bird’s nest, oversized bosom, pink cheeks and, she thought, looking down at her hands, the hands of a woman who worked for a living.
She understood that lust was a passing thing. At the moment, both she and her new husband were wallowing in it. She was almost ashamed to admit that every time she saw him, she wanted him. But how long would it last? What would they have when he tired of her? He surely would eventually tire of her. The joy would seep out of her existence like water from a sieve. But not yet.
Isobel strolled around the bedroom, her thoughts on the big old brothel house that would soon be rubble. There were many things she wanted to save, and the furniture could be stored until they were ready to use it again. Duncan had told her there must be some family on the island that needed her old furniture more than she did. It gave her pause.
There was a knock at the door, and Evan poked his head around it. “I have your luggage, Isobel.”
“Yes, bring it in, Evan and thank you so much. I hope we aren’t going to be any trouble.” She watched him deposit the trunk in the corner. He was such a handsome young man.
He tossed her a warm glance. “Rosalyn told me you worried too much.”
“’Tis a hard thing to do, changing habits that one has had for a lifetime.” He brought in more luggage pieces and set them near the trunk. He left her and she wondered how he fit into the family picture. Later, when she and Rosalyn were having tea, Isobel broached the subject.
Rosalyn leaned back in her chair. “When I first arrived, I was told his parents had drowned. I guess no one knew the real story.” She lifted the fine china teacup to her lips and took a sip.
“As it turned out, we all learned that his mother was seduced by one of the MacNeil lords, and Evan is the result of that union.”
Isobel raised her eyebrows, surprised. “And no one knew this until you came here?”
“Actually, it was after Kerry and the boys arrived. Evan and Kerry became close friends, and he had confided in her that his mother was ill and living in a small cabin in the foothills. He swore her to secrecy. He would leave every day at a certain time to care for her.”
“But why would he keep his mother a secret from your family?” Isobel asked.
“It was her wish. She had begged the old laird to take Evan on as a stable boy so he would have a place to live. When all of them died, the secret went with them to the grave.”
“Until Kerry came along,” Isobel finished.
“Exactly.” Rosalyn rose and poured Isobel more tea and passed her the plate of scones. She studied her. “All is well with you and Duncan?”
The blush began at her cleavage and raced upwards. She merely nodded. By the holy, she could run on and on about other people and their problems and offer advice and solutions by the bushel, but ask her about her own affairs and she became a mute. Just as well; what she and Duncan had wasn’t exactly dinner conversation.
Duncan poked his head into the room; he appeared very serious. “Ah, there you are. Izzy, I need you to come upstairs with me for a minute.”
“Yes, yes of course,” she answered, placing her teacup on the tray and getting to her feet. She thanked Rosalyn for the tea and followed Duncan up the winding staircase to their suite of rooms.
When they got inside and he shut the door, she asked, “What is it?”
“I can’t go another minute without having you.”
Her immediate reaction was the hunger she’d had so frequently these past days. Then, realizing where they were, she said, “We can’t do that here.”
He looked at her, surprised. “Why not?”
She glanced around nervously. “Because someone might hear us.”
He stood in front of her, legs spread apart and arms crossed over his chest. “Do you mean to tell me that while we’re living here, we won’t…how can I say this nicely…do the marriage dance?”
She clasped her hands together and brought them to her chin. “That would be an awfully long time, wouldn’t it?”
His expression became pained. “We could do it quietly,” he suggested, taking a step toward her.
She tossed him an amused look. “Have I yet to be quiet?”
“I’d allow you to bite me over and over again,” he teased, moving closer still. When he reached her he bent and planted a kiss on her exposed cleavage, sending shards of fire through her blood. She pressed his head into her bosom and ran her fingers through his silky hair.
Her heart racing, she pulled away and ordered, “Lock the door.”
He was already disrobing. “No one will come in without knocking first, Izzy.”
“Lock the door or…or—”
He was naked. “Or, what?”
“Just please lock it, Duncan.” She flashed him a winning smile.
That did the trick; he strode from her, his beautiful brown buttocks flexing with each step, and turned the latch on the door. “There.” He turned to face her, his erection already full and heavy. “Satisfied?”
Timidly, she answered, biting down on her lower lip, “Not yet.”
“Oh, woman, you are such fun.” He helped her pull off her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and they fell onto the bed together.