Page 32 of Much Ado About a Scot

Xander’s gaze fixed on the older man’s face. There was definitely malice in his words, but not in his expression. Curious. “Thank you for letting me know Jamie has been found. And, aye, I will watch over him more closely from now on—you can count on that.”

“I’ll escort you down.” Graham motioned toward the stairs.

Relieved that his true purpose for being in the house had not been discovered, Xander happily followed the man down the stairs. “We shall see you tonight at the harvest celebration?”

Graham stopped and turned to look up at Xander with a deep frown before continuing down the stairs. “Why after all these years is Isobel having a banquet? I thought we put all those old traditions behind us?”

“Some traditions are worth upholding, I suppose, especially when a new generation needs to learn the old ways.”

“Or sometimes the old ways need to die to make way for the new.” Graham continued down the stairs and saw Xander out.

Alone on the stoop, Xander clenched his hands at his sides as his allegiance once more pulled him from two directions. He knew what his next course of action should be. He should go find Rhys and convey the information that Bothwell had been found. What he wanted to do was hurry back to Isobel and Jamie and make certain they were both all right.

Knowing his decision was made before he took a step, Xander ran across the distance that separated Dunbar Manor from Gladmuir Hall. He entered by the kitchen door. The smell of roasting meat pierced his senses.

“Where’s Isobel?” he asked Freya, who paused in her chopping to greet him with a frown.

“She’s in the front parlor, waiting for you.”

He hurried down the hallway and into the chamber to find Isobel waiting there, alone. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her face. She was marble-pale, her thin body swaying slightly as she focused not on him, but something behind his shoulder. “How’s Jamie? How are you?” He wanted to touch her, comfort her, but all he could do was stand and stare at her. He was raw and aching with a need so strong it caught him off guard.

Isobel avoided looking at him. “I want to thank you for finding my son. He is upstairs taking a nap after all the excitement this morning.”

Xander cleared his throat to rid it of huskiness as he took a step closer. “And you? How are you?”

*

Despite her best attempt to stop herself, Isobel’s gaze shifted to Xander, lingering on his dark hair and the tense slide of muscles coiled beneath his white muslin shirt. He was a man of many mysteries—a fierce protector one minute, passionate the next, and gentle when it suited him. She didn’t understand him, and she wouldn’t have the time to do so.

She shifted her gaze away and looked at the wall again, blinking rapidly to keep back tears. For four days she had been transported from her lonely, isolated existence. But it was time for her to accept that would always be her reality because the isolation was what was best for her son.

“I release you from your obligation to me. I’ll finish the harvest on my own.”

“Isobel, what’s wrong?” He took her hands in his. “What’s changed?”

Her gaze connected with his and reflected fear. “I was wrong to bring you here. Our agreement was a mistake.” And even as she said the words, she wanted to pull him closer and lose herself in the comfort of his embrace, yet she could not. The best thing was to send him away.

She felt stronger at the very thought. The words helped her to stand taller and discount her growing feelings for him. They helped her ignore the way her stomach had clenched and her blood had raced when he’d walked into the chamber moments ago. Sweet Mary, she wanted him. She’d never imagined such honeyed sweetness as when they were wrapped in each other’s arms. Never imagined such insane longing . . .

“I don’t know what brought this on, but I’m not going anywhere. There is far too much at stake.”

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Please, I beg you to get your things and go.” She started to tremble even as she fought for control.

He released her hands as his gaze narrowed on her face. “You’re scared of what you feel for me. I’m scared too. But we said vows, and I take that very seriously.”

“You say that, and yet you’ll leave us anyway in two months’ time. By then, Jamie will be so attached to you, it will be like losing a father all over again. You’ll crush his spirit, Xander. That little boy has already lost too much in his short life. I can’t risk it. I just can’t.”

She felt a sudden ache where her heart was, but Isobel pushed it away. There was no time for such things now. Her very sanity was at stake, and her child’s welfare. This was best for all of them. “It’s time to say good—” Isobel had to stop as her voice broke.

“I’m not going anywhere, Isobel. If you won’t have me in your house, then I’ll go back to the barn. But I won’t leave. Too much is at stake—your very lives if I do.”

Isobel startled. “What are you talking about? It’s your life I’m worried about with my past history of losing husbands, not Jamie or I.”

“I suspect your husbands’ deaths were caused by someone else and not any kind of curse upon you.”

Isobel felt the blood drain from her face. “Their deaths were unfortunate accidents.”

“Or someone killed them and made them look like accidents.”