Page 55 of Beguiled By the Highlander
She wasn’t entirely certain whether he was mocking her or not. But since it appeared that she was obliged to share this chamber with him for the foreseeable future, she might as well make the best of it.
“I brought a rug from home. We can use it in here, for now, and these older ones can go in the antechamber.”
“Agreed.” He didn’t even pause to think about it. “And we’ll put the unicorn tapestry on the wall in here, until ye find something more appropriate to keep out the chill.”
“I doubt the baron would approve of his gift being hidden away up here.” She was surprised William even suggested it. The tapestry was a prestigious piece of art, something to be displayed in the great hall for guests to admire and secretly covet.
William shrugged. “Yer comfort is more important to me than displaying a Brussels tapestry in the great hall.”
Why did he insist on saying things like that? It made it so hard to remember that his tongue was gilded with honey, and he’d say anything to get his own way. Yet even knowing that, warmth spread through her at his words.
After all, she was already his bride. He had nothing more to gain by uttering sweet lies.
She stifled a sigh and shook her head, but her thoughts remained as tangled as ever.
“Isolde.” His calloused palms cradled her face, pulling her back to the present with a rush of awareness that spiked through her blood. Her breath caught in her throat, and it was hard not to let him see how desperately she wanted to wrap her arms around him. “Should I sleep on the chair again tonight?”
She swallowed, her mouth dry. How many men would be so thoughtful? It was something Njord would ask. Not William Campbell.
Yet here they were.
How easy it would be to tell him she needed another night before he shared their bed.
But she didn’t need another night. And sooner or later, this union would need to be consummated.
Treacherous flickers of desire ignited, threatening every good sense she possessed. But there was no point lying to herself.
Even knowing how he had manipulated her, she still wanted him.
Her gaze meshed with his, and she couldn’t have lied to him even if she’d wanted to. “No.” Her voice was husky, and his eyes darkened in understanding, obliterating the stormy blue-gray of his irises. “There’s no need to sleep on the chair this night.”
Chapter Seventeen
As promised, afterdinner William showed Isolde around the rest of the castle. She’d been unnaturally silent, and he’d been forced to see Creagdoun through her eyes.
He was fiercely proud of Creagdoun. And the fact the earl himself had bestowed the castle and lands on him as a reward for how he’d fought in the bloodied battles to drive back the MacGregors. To be sure, the estate and village had been neglected for years, but he’d spent every hour God had sent working to make the land profitable.
He’d told Isolde the truth. It had always been his intention to start on the interior of the castle this year, since his father had made it plain that he and the earl wanted the alliance with Isolde of Sgur to be formalized by summer at the latest.
In fact, he’d been set to begin upon his return from Skye. But if only he’d set his mind to such matters a year ago. Because the stark truth was, Creagdoun was in no fit state to welcome a mistress with Isolde’s noble heritage.
It was too late to regret that now. But he’d make it up to her, and she’d soon be mistress of a fine castle she could be proud of, too.
He left her in the solar with her serving woman, and while up until now he’d merely been appreciative of the light that streamed in through the windows, now he couldn’t help but compare it to the comfortable solar at Sgur.
There was nothing he could do about that today, and as much as he didn’t want to leave her for even an hour, he needed to be seen about his estate to quell any rumors that might’ve sprung up during his absence.
Rumors that would find their way back to Clan MacGregor, who would doubtless attempt to take advantage to try and reclaim Creagdoun.
Aye, they’d attempt anything. The black thoughts swirled in his mind as he marched into the courtyard on his way to the stables.
“William.” Hugh’s voice penetrated his dark suspicions, and he swung about. His cousin came to his side, a frown slashing his brow. “What is it, man?”
“Do ye think a MacGregor is behind the attack?” William kept his voice low, even though no one was close enough to overhear. “That they managed to bribe one of the men?”
“It sickens me to think that’s possible.”
“Aye. But what else can we think? None of the men were strangers, Hugh. Who the devil can we trust, if not the men we’ve known for years?”
