“She is now. Before she was wild. Now she realises what’s at stake. But she’d be better for you than me. Nothing beats pissing off your older brother.” He sounds part amused and part irritated.
“How long are you here for?” I turn around and see him wearing just a white shirt, fitted, tapered at his waist and cut to hang just right off his shoulders.
“Just tonight.”
“Good luck with that.” I look to the sky. A couple of flakes have started to dance down. In another hour I know it’ll have turned to a blizzard.
“It’ll be a good excuse to avoid William for a few days.” Isaac holds out his hand and catches a flake. It dissolves instantly on his hand.
“Why work for him?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Isn’t everything?”
Isaac laughs, quiet and deep. “You’d need all night.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
The fireworks in the distance start again and I hear a cheer from the staff outside. It’s just the two of us. No one to disturb or interrupt. Everyone nearby is occupied.
“How well do you know the castle?”
His words surprise me. I expected something weighted with worry or a concern about whatever’s been happening, but instead he’s curious.
“Like the back of my hand.”
“How do you fancy playing tour guide? I’ve never seen it all – only the guest rooms and the reception rooms.”
“Aren’t you meeting Ivy?”
He shakes his head. “She’s headed out with her fiancé. My time with her is up for this visit.”
“What do I get in return for giving you a tour?”
His grin is wicked, the dark stubble and messy hair making him seem dangerous, which perhaps he is.
“A kiss.”
And like that, I’m hard. Images of Blair on display for him, him coming over her, and him touching himself skip through my brain, a video reel on fast forward.
“Let’s see if the tour is worth your kisses.”
* * *
We start downstairs, in the staff quarters. There are huge kitchens that always had the purpose of feeding the laird and his lady back when the castle was first built, centuries before. Now it’s modern, equipped with whatever the chefs need but the walls are still the same stone and there’s still the open oven to smoke the meat and the cheese.
I take him through the laundry rooms and where the seamstresses still reign, through the coal cellars and where the wine is stored and then up to main halls and the rooms that house the suits of armour and taxidermy that should belong in a museum.
All the time I watch his responses; the way his eyes take in everything he sees, the small nods of approval and the sense that he’s seeing something not for the first time but I don’t know how.
“What’s on the top floor, in the left wing?”
“You have a good sense of direction.” We’ve toured most of the place; staff rooms, the wing where the family have their private quarters and the places where banquets and socials are held.
“Is it closed down?”
“It’s never been used for as long as I remember.”
