And sitting in his bedroom with a wee dram sends the right message?
He poured her a small measure and brought it over to her, taking a seat on the other side of the fireplace. He gazed into the fire for a moment, cradling his glass in his hands.
“Why does your mother hate me so?” Isla asked after an appreciative sip.
Edward frowned. “My grand-father was killed on his estates near Carlisle by reavers. They had been plundering the livestock of the local farmers. She blames all Scots for their actions.”
“And you?”
“I have fought against the French, the Americans and pirates of many nations. If I held a grudge against every nation that had wronged me or mine I would hate the entirety of mankind,” Edward said.
“It seems unlikely I will persuade her to think differently of me,” Isla said.
“Probably. She is obstinate. If she has not changed her views in the years since my grand-father was killed I cannot see it happening now.”
“And you will not answer it?” Isla asked, sipping her drink.
She had barely touched her dinner, stomach clenched by her dress and her anxiety. Now the strong drink flowed to her head and her feet. Edward watched her intently, as though waiting forsigns of inebriation. Isla was determined to show none. But her awareness of how dangerous their situation was, unchaperoned and with Edward half naked, was becoming muted.
“I will answer it in my fashion,” he said, “which is not upon a terrace in full view of every curious jackanape."
“I am glad to see we agree on the nature of your friends,” Isla quipped.
“Ah, but they are not my friends,” Edward replied.
A log settled in the grate with a soft collapse. Somewhere a clock rang the quarter. The quiet between them had changed. There was a weight to it that made the air feel heavy. Charged. They finished their drinks, Isla with slow sips. Edward with longer gulps.
“You should not be here,” he said, finally. “I think the chamber maids have gone. You should be safe to return to your rooms.”
“I know,” Isla said, “that I should not be here. It was not deliberate.”
“And yet you are here. How curious,” Edward said, rolling the now empty tumbler between his hands.
I do believe that is an accusation. Of what?
Isla looked him in the eye as she drained her glass and held it out.
“An excellent dram. I would like another.”
Edward rose without a word, collecting her glass and this time pouring her the same measure that he gave himself.
“I am often where I should not be,” Isla said. “I believe it is the bane of Alistair’s life.”
Her head was becoming fuzzy. Edward was relaxing, sitting back in his seat, the robe loosening slightly without his notice. Isla noticed, finding herself breathless at the sight of his pectorals.
“Except this time you ended up precisely where you needed to be, didn’t you?” Edward said.
Isla arched an eyebrow, sitting forward as she sensed a challenge.
“Meaning?”
“I think you know what I mean,” Edward retorted. “You wander out of a ball, the most anticipated of the season, at just the moment I am tending to my horses. Adroit timing.”
“So, you think I bashed my own head just to trap you?”
“I think you came into the stable to trap me and then panicked, tripped and brained yourself,” Edward said, rising suddenly and throwing back the remainder of his drink. Isla matched him, also rising though she felt slightly dizzy.
“I did go into the stable deliberately but I didn’t know you were there. I didn’t even know who you were! I wanted to see the horses!”
