“Captain Balfour was in the Rifles, it turns out. Not with the Gordon Highlanders, as I had supposed.”
“Ah.” Matt peered over her shoulder, reading the text. “Balfour made captain in 1813 after the Battle of Vitoria. A dreadful number of men died at that time.”
Though her brother said nothing more, she could feel the weight of his questions:Are you still entangled with Balfour? Will you kindle Gray’s wrath once more?
Isla swallowed as her answers to his hypothetical questions would beYesandMost likely.
She needed to speak with Tavish first and understand why he had returned.Matters to be settled, he had said. God-willing, that referred to her and the knot of their handfasting. She prayed he intended to pick apart the tartan ribbon that had once bound their hands together. Isla knew little of what was involved—only that divorce was possible, as Scottish marriage law was decidedly more forgiving than English—but she assumed it would require the help of a man to sort.Mattersalways did.
If Tavish agreed to dissolve their marriage, they would eventually need to involve Gray to help keep their divorce as secret as their marriage had been. Only the might of a duke could ensure the divorce happened behind closed doors and hidden from scandal-hungry journalists.
More to the point, Gray was one of the most powerful men in Britain.Ergo . . .no Scottish judge would rule on her marriage without consulting her brother first. The second her name crossed a magistrate’s desk, Gray would be informed of the truth: His sister had married a Balfour. And if her brother hadn’t been told before that point . . .
Isla shuddered.
The only thing more terrifying than an angry Gray was ahumiliatedand angry Gray.
He must be told. It was simply a question of when.
But Matt . . .
At the moment, her confession hung on the tip of her tongue . . . to tell Matt of her handfasting and beg for his help in untangling it. No matter how inconsequential she considered the weight of her marriage, even the tiniest stone, when caught in a slipper, could leave the flesh abraded and raw.
And right now, her psyche stung. Anxiety stuffed her lungs and rendered her breathing tight.
Matt had always been the peacemaker. If she asked him, Isla knew he would keep her confidences as much as he deemed possible.
That was, until her confidences required him to set foot off Grayburn lands and possibly interact with a solicitor or some official in person. Yes, Matt had rescued her once, but over the years since, her brother had become even more set in his ways, more of a recluse. If she told him, he would likely wince and then urge her to confess all to Gray.
Thinking of which—
“McPherson?” Gray’s voice echoed in the entryway, calling for the butler.
“I recommend hiding the evidence of your curiosity, Sister.” Matthias glanced toward the open door. “You know how he gets over these matters.”
Swallowing, Isla gathered the papers together and dropped them back in the obliging drawer, shutting it with a soft clack.
Would that disposing of her past indiscretions were so simple.
3
For Tavish, traversing the road between Cairnfell and Castle Balfour felt like a journey back through time—each rock and tree ringing with the memory of Isla Kinsey and everything he had tried so very hard to forget.
There was the sheltered copse where he had been wont to steal a kiss.
The deep pool where the River Northcairn curled into itself, and Tavish had taught Isla to swim.
The rutted road—scarcely more than a track—that he would dash along in his haste to reach her. The same road Isla had raced down to throw herself into his arms.
Her past jubilation was the precise opposite of the poised, withdrawn lady he had just encountered atop Cairnfell.
Where had she gone, that vibrant lass?
It hardly mattered now, he supposed.
Lady Isla hadn’t been happy to see him. No smile of surprise, no spark of delight. If anything, her expression had been one of dread and worry. Clearly, the passage of time had not softened her heart towardhim. Battle-weary soldier that he was, Tavish understood when to raise the white flag of surrender.
Unfortunately, Lady Isla wasn’t the only difficulty to be confronted today. There was still the matter of his family and their role in all this.
