That realization seemed momentous, but the feeling struggled to reach her.
The stairs opened up to the great hall of the old castle. Isla stepped into the room, Tavish at her side.
Neither of them said a word to one another. In fact, they hadexchanged only a handful of perfunctory sentences since their incendiary kiss rather literally burned both their lives to ash.
Isla’s nerves still felt raw and scorched.
Surely, they were both remembering their previous encounters at Cairnfell Castle.
But what had once been a damp, chilly room cluttered with sparse bits of furniture had now been refurbished into a more habitable space.
Lady Mariah noticed their surprise. “I have been slowly bringing the old castle back to life when I can find the time and spare a shilling or two.”
“Ye’ve done wonders here, Mariah,” Tavish said, voice sincere.
Isla agreed. Gone were the rickety table and mismatched wooden chairs. The sooty fireplace and cold flagstones underfoot.
The walls had been plastered a gleaming white and hung with faded tapestries, while a rug had been laid on the floor. The furniture was still mismatched, but now a worn velvet sofa and a pair of stuffed armchairs sat before the hearth. A sturdy table surrounded by four chairs and a sideboard with dishes and crockery took up the other half of the space.
“I’m glad ye like the changes. I couldn’t bear to watch this place crumble to ruin if I could help it.” Lady Mariah managed a wan smile.
Even in a simple day gown and apron, she looked astonishingly beautiful—dark hair pulled back with loose curls framing her face, her striking blue eyes always flashing with humor or exasperation or some other emotion.
That same sadness weighed on Isla. In another lifetime, she and Lady Mariah would likely have been fast friends. One more thing lost.
“I’ve been raiding the attics at Castle Balfour for discarded furniture and linens. The tapestries were a particularly nice discovery. A bit worse for wear, but still serviceable and warm.” Lady Mariah beckoned. “Come see. I’ve refitted the bedchamber, as well.”
She led them through the door to the left of the fireplace where a decrepit bed pallet and moldering mattress had once resided.
Like the great hall, this room, too, had been plastered and a carpet laid. A fireplace stood just to the right inside the door, the opposite side of the enormous fireplace in the great hall, both sharing the same solitary chimney.
Before the hearth, a large tester bed with a deep tick, heavy counterpane, and woolen bed curtains dominated the space.
Isla sucked in a slow breath.
Lady Mariah continued to talk, pointing out a small writing desk and washstand before retrieving a set of towels from a wardrobe.
But all Isla could do was stare at the bed. It looked decidedly . . . matrimonial.
Tavish touched her arm from behind, the slightest of brushes.
“I’ll be sleeping in front of the fire in the great hall,” he murmured in her ear. “Ye will have this bedchamber as your own.”
Isla blinked, unsure how she felt about his words.
For one, they showed his uncanny understanding of her thoughts. The two of them were, even now, nearly an extension of one another.
Moreover, the memory of their kisses continued to thrum between them. Isla found it appalling. How, after all the damage that attraction had wreaked, could she still feel the pull of it? Would she have the presence of mind to reject him if hedidjoin her in that bed?
She turned away before she could imagine the scene—his enormous chest curving around her body and pulling her to him.
Lady Mariah bustled back into the great hall.
“As we discussed, Callum and I will do our best to prevent others from learning of your presence here,” she said. “Jameson and several other trusted servants have agreed to help us keep you both hidden. I have already put it about that Lady Isla left this morning to visit friends in Edinburgh. Tavish, ye are supposedly off sorting matters with Captain Ross. Lord Northcairn never comes up here—the steep incline is too much for his heart, even on a horse—so he is not a concern. The reprieve will give ye both a couple of weeks to sort yourselves out. In the meantime, I will send up meals from the kitchens as I am able.”
“There is no need for that, Mariah,” Tavish said. “Ye have already done much. If ye could muster some supplies, I can cook well enough for us.”
Lady Mariah lifted one elegant eyebrow in question.
