Letting out a slow breath, Tavish pretended to study the forest—a mix of poplar and larch trees with more exotic rhododendron bushes sprawling underneath. The lake glimmered through the branches, andthe occasional break in the foliage offered stunning views of the surrounding mountains covered in purple heather in bloom.
Isla and Fletch continued their engrossing conversation.
She asked questions. He answered.
He pointed at something across the lake. She paused and stretched on tiptoe to see it.
She shook her head at something he said. Fletch laughed.
It was . . .
Tavish forced himself to breathe slowly—in and out, concentrating on the air moving through his lungs, the sound of his pulse in his ear. A technique he used right before a battle to settle his nerves.
It only marginally helped now.
The trio had just crossed a wee wooden bridge when a voice hailed them from the path ahead. A gamekeeper came into view, hurrying toward Fletch. Holding up a hand for Isla to stay, Fletch stepped off the path to confer with the man privately.
Tavish stopped beside Isla. She spared him a glance but said nothing.
They both watched Fletch and the man converse. The man spoke urgently, arms gesturing. Fletch put his hands on his hips, head bowed.
“Did . . . did that man just say something about poaching?” Isla murmured.
Tavish glanced around the forest. “It wouldn’t surprise me. These estates cover vast tracts of land. It would be difficult to keep poachers out.”
Fletch clasped the man’s shoulder before walking back to Tavish and Isla, a frown denting his brow.
“I fear, my lady, that Mr. McCoy requires my assistance with an urgent matter. My father is away with Grayburn, so this small crisis falls to me.”
“I hope all is well,” Tavish said.
“Nothing I won’t be able to sort, I am sure.” He darted a look at Isla, indicating that he didn’t wish to speak of it in front of a lady. “But I apologize that I must leave you both. Captain Balfour will see you back to the house, my lady.”
“Oh!” Isla looked at Tavish with apprehension.
Fletch, naturally, misread her concern. “You will be safe in his hands, Lady Isla. Captain Balfour is the most honorable man I have ever known.Upon my life.” He pressed his hand to his chest, which Tavish thought was doing it a bit brown.
“I-I am sure.” A blush flooded her cheeks.
“Thank you, Balfour.” Fletch clasped Tavish’s hand before striding off with the gamekeeper toward the house.
Isla and Tavish watched both men disappear around a bend. Birds chirped overhead, and wind rustled the trees. A lazy bee bobbed through.
“Well,” Tavish said into the silence. “That did not turn out as I expected.”
“Whatdidyou expect?”
He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat before he did something stupid, like offer her his arm.
“The way ye two were cozying into one another, I figured I was going to have to pretend to examine a bush while ye indulged in a kiss or two.”
If he thought Isla had been blushing before, it was nothing compared to the red that now scorched her face.
“Tavish!” she hissed.
He chuckled. “Am I Tavish now?”
She merely glared at him. “I am hardly so wanton as to kiss another man in front of my husband, no matter how estranged. I could feel your gaze drilling my shoulder blades. Please assume I have a modicum of sense and propriety.”
