“No . . . b-but . . . I don’t . . .” Fletch stared at Tavish. “I don’t understand, Balfour. In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen youtoucha woman. You’ve never even looked longingly at a lady, no matter how comely. You are as celibate as a monk!” His voice picked up steam. “You told Ross and me that you were married! Married! That you would honor your vows to your wife! And now you do this?!” He pointed toward Isla. “Seduce the woman you know I am courting? Have you gone mad?!”
Tavish was watching Grayburn as Fletch spoke. The wordmarriedstruck the duke as true as an enemy barrage. His Grace took a staggering step backward, his wide and horrified gaze dropping to his sister.
It was easily the most raw emotion Tavish had ever seen the man display.
I suppose he is human after all, some part of Tavish mused.
“Isla!” Her name emerged from Grayburn’s lips as half curse, half horror.
Fletch looked to Grayburn and then back to Tavish, his expression confused . . . before the truth dawned. His jaw went slack.
“Ye are correct, Fletch. I willalwayshonor my marriage vows. That has not changed.” Tavish took in a slow breath, his head helplessly tilting to Isla hiding behind him. “However, there is no dishonor in a man kissing his wife.”
Grayburn continued to stand frighteningly still. As if he had just been dealt a mortal wound and, though his intellect knew himself done for, his body had yet to crumple. His gaze darted from Isla to Tavish and then back again.
Fletch shook his head, equally as stunned. “You’re married . . . to Lady Isla?”
Tavish nodded.
“How long?” Fletch asked.
“Seven years.”
Grayburn’s nostrils flared.
Fletch winced. “I kissed her.” He pointed to Isla. “She let me kiss her, even knowing that she was . . .”
He trailed off.
Tavish briefly closed his eyes, the sting of Fletch’s words biting deep.
Isla sobbed anew.
“At least you were more loyal to her than she was to you,” Fletch continued, voice hurt and baffled.
Grayburn had gone from red-faced to white-lipped.
Isla touched Tavish’s sleeve, her chest hiccupping.
“G-Gray?” she gasped around his arm.
Tavish hated the pleading in her tone. The fear and worry.
Without a word, Grayburn pivoted and left the room, the silk of his banyan flaring behind him.
“Gray! No! Wait!” Isla called, dashing after him.
“Isla!” Tavish reached for her.
Why? He didn’t know. Only that Grayburn was in a towering fury and would not be kind to her gentle heart. And Tavish, more than anything, wanted to spare her more pain.
She pushed out of his grip and raced after her brother.
Tavish took one step to follow, only to be stopped by Fletch’s fist punching with brutal force. Pain exploded in Tavish’s cheek. He staggered sideways from the blow and looked back at his friend.
Fletch stood shaking out his hand.
“That was for not telling me!” he raged. “I deserved to know! You owed me that much, Balfour!”
