They returned to her chambers when the candle burned low, and Jane made as if to take her leave before Isobel stopped her.
“Are you going without helping me change?” She indicated the green gown she’d worn to the council chambers as well as on the tour of the castle. “I should like you to remain so that I might don proper attire for dinner this evening.”
Jane’s bright eyes dimmed slightly. “Ye’ll dine alone tonight. As I understand it, the Laird is occupied with estate matters. Lady Branwen has gone to visit a friend in the village and Lady Sarah is picnicking with a small group of lasses town by the loch.”
Isobel looked at the empty table by the window. As an only child, she had found ways to bear the solitude of Graham House cheerfully enough, but now that she was in this bustling castle, with many others surrounding her, she had not dreamed of being left alone. “Is that usual?”
“It is the way of life here.” Jane set the candleholder down on the dresser. “The Laird, when he is in the castle, works late most nights. The estate doesnae run itself and he doesnae like delegatin’ what he thinks he is capable of doing on his own.”
“And what exactly does he think he should do himself?”
“Most things,” Jane said without a hint of judgement or pride shading her tone. She was merely sharing a fact. She moved to the door. “I’ll have supper sent up. Is there anythin’ in particular ye’d like?”
“Whatever is simplest,” Isobel said. “I’m not hungry.”
She had lost her appetite somewhere between this very moment and the second she realized Laird MacRaeh would not be dining with her.
Jane left. Isobel sat at the window, watching the sun descend slowly on the horizon, and listened to the castle going about its evening without her.
The chamber felt smaller than it had this morning. The bedchamber was a perfectly comfortable size by any reasonable measure, yet walls pressed in around her, making Isobel feel suffocated.
She needed to move.
I could go to the library. I ought to have selected a book while we were there earlier.
Isobel grabbed a shawl off the nearest dresser, slung it around her shoulders, then scooted out of her room and down the hall.
I might not recall the way to the Laird’s study or how to find the kitchens in this labyrinth, but I can certainly locate the library.
She hurried in the direction where she was sure to find a book, opened the door to the suite, and scrambled inside the room.
No sooner had she turned about than she collided with a solid, unforgiving surface.
“Oof.” Isobel released a noise that was decidedly undignified, then she looked up to see what was impeding her progress.
Swirling grey eyes, speckled with flecks of green and blue, met hers and Isobel had to lift her hand to cover the thunderous sound her heart made when she recognized who stood in front of her.
“Laird MacRaeh.”
What is he doing here?He had caught her by the arm and steadied her so that she could not stumble or fall. They were close enough that she could see the faint smattering of freckles on his cheekbones as well as the pronounced bump on his nose that was tinged slightly purple in the candlelight. His expression was that of a man who had been somewhere else entirely in his mind and had just returned to his body to find something unexpected in his hands.
Neither of them moved.
What should I do?
Isobel’s first urge was to explain what she was doing in the library so that the Laird would not think she had somehow tracked his movements and followed him there. Her second impulse was to ask why he was working in this space rather than sticking to his study.
Silly. Foolish girl. First, I flirted and teased him in the council chambers. And now, I have followed him to his library.
She squeezed her eyes shut and contemplated the situation.
He will never believe that we have both found our way to this destination coincidentally.
The Laird tightened his grip on her arm and Isobel felt the touch ignite something within her. She wanted to look at him, to meet his gaze and see what secrets were buried in the depths of his glowing eyes. She did not wish to cower or hide.
Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked up at him through her thickly fringed lashes.
“Forgive me,” she stammered. “I… I did not see you.”