CHAPTER EIGHT
Itwastrue. He’d done it. Izzie couldn’t believe it. But not long after she returned to the guesthouse after meeting with Walter, Elizabeth came bursting into the room with a smile so exaggerated and forced it seemed in danger of shattering like a piece of overblown glass.
She and Randolph were to marry, she said. She was “thrilled” (which didn’t explain why her eyes were sparkling with tears) and hoped they would be happy for her. Izzie managed a long hug (mostly so her cousin wouldn’t see the tears in her own eyes), but Joanna was so disappointed, she could barely murmur a choked, emotion-filled congratulations. There would be a feast to celebrate at the midday meal, Elizabeth continued with enough brightness to light the city at night, an even bigger celebration tomorrow after the betrothal ceremony, and a wedding to plan for in three weeks.
Three weeks?
Izzie’s knees buckled. She felt as though she’d been kicked in the stomach. She hoped no one had seen her stagger.
“Is something wrong, Izzie?” Elizabeth asked. Izzie cursed, realizing her cousinhadbeen watching her. “You look a little pale.”
“I’m not feeling very well,” Izzie answered truthfully.
She felt ill. She must have looked it, too. Both Elizabeth and Joanna became immediately concerned.
“Perhaps you should go lie down for a while,” Joanna suggested. The sympathy in Jamie’s wife’s gaze made Izzie wonder if the other woman suspected something of the truth. “Elizabeth and I will discuss all the details and fill you in on everything when you feel better.”Or never,Joanna seemed to add silently.
Izzie nodded gratefully.
Elizabeth looked so worried, Izzie almost felt guilty for misleading her as to the source of her illness. “I do hope you aren’t coming down with something serious. I don’t want you to miss the ceremony tomorrow. I need you there.”
Izzie’s stomach lurched at the thought; she feared her paleness had turned a little green. “Me, too,” she said with halfheartedness that she hoped her cousin would attribute to her illness.
An illness that, as it turned out, did last through the betrothal ceremony.
Elizabeth pretended to understand, but Izzie knew her cousin was hurt by her absence. Izzie wanted to be there for her—truly she did—but she just couldn’t do it. Maybe she was a coward, maybe she was selfish, maybe she wasn’t ready to accept the truth and wanted to delude herself a little longer, she didn’t know. But she couldn’t stand witness to Randolph binding himself to her cousin and pretend it didn’t matter. Pretend it didn’t hurt. Pretend that she didn’t want him for herself.
So she stayed away, tending her wounds in private, while her cousin tried to convince them that she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life. Izzie and Joanna weren’t fooled; the only question was how long Elizabeth could continue to fool herself.
The day after the betrothal ceremony, Izzie had “recovered” enough to join her cousin and Joanna on a prewedding shopping trip up and down the high street of Edinburgh.
She even managed to enjoy herself and feel no more than a tiny prick of jealousy when Elizabeth started picking out fabrics for her wedding gown. Izzie was back to her wry, good-natured, lighthearted self and firmly back in her supportive cousin position.
She’d made too much of it, Izzie told herself. She’d been swept up by passion and confused into thinking it might be something more. Randolph was a real-life hero, for goodness’ sake. What woman wouldn’t be a little overcome by his attentions?
She was like Annie. He’d made a woman who didn’t think she’d ever have a faerie tale feel like a princess for a few days, but it hadn’t been real. And it certainly wasn’t anything to build a future on. Even if they had more in common than she realized, even if he’d surprised her that day at the pond with his kindness and playfulness, even if he wasn’t as unfeeling as she’d thought, and even if there was more to him than the “perfect” knight, he still wasn’t for her.
She didn’t want to live her life on stage as the wife of a legend in the making. She didn’t want to always have to dress perfectly, with no hairs out of place, and be worried about what she said. She liked the quiet of the countryside and the calm of hearth and home. She liked to read before the fire and sit by candlelight dreaming up ways of improving the castle. She liked to make wry observations from tables below the salt, not sit at the high table and have to glitter and entertain.
She had almost succeeded in convincing herself it was for the best. But then, two days after the betrothal and four since Izzie had last seen Randolph (not that she was counting), Elizabeth came bursting into her room in tears and told her what Randolph and Thom MacGowan intended to do.
It changed everything.
After the meeting with Douglas on Monday morning, Randolph had kept his word and sent for Elizabeth. When he stumbled awkwardly through the proposal (he was glad he didn’t need to feign romance with Elizabeth because his mind had gone blank with anything lighthearted and charming to say), and managed an only slightly less awkward kiss that evening, which was possibly the most chaste one he’d ever given and felt like he was kissing his sister (thankfully he’d managed not to shudder), he told himself it wasn’t anything to worry about. It was just the lingering irritation toward Izzie.
Aye, he knewexactlywho he had to blame for the way his heart started to race at the oddest times, how his mind felt as if some of Sutherland’s black powder had gone off inside, why he broke out into a cold sweat when he’d said his vows, and the way his stomach seemed to be constantly twisted in knots.
He was furious with her for putting him in this position. She’d made him feel as if he was doing something wrong—as if he’d made some kind ofmistake. But Izzie expected too much, damn it. What else could he have done?
She would see; it would be better for her this way. It would only hurt her more when he couldn’t give her what she wanted.
He would tell her exactly that, but… Where the hell was she?
He finally had asked Elizabeth while they were seated at the dais for the betrothal celebration feast.
Sick? Was she all right? He hoped Elizabeth hadn’t noticed that he’d nearly jumped up from the bench when she’d told him.
If she did, she didn’t comment. But she seemed to sense his concern; she put her hand on his arm with a smile. “I do not think it is anything serious. But it is kind of you to ask. I know you and Izzie didn’t get off to the best start, but I hope that you will be friends. She is very dear to me, and I think once you get to know her, you will like her. I’m hoping she will come stay with us for a while after we are married.” Good thing she wasn’t looking at him so she didn’t see him blanch.Good God! Not a chance in Hades.“She is very smart and witty. Even at a very dark time in my life she could always make me laugh and see the ridiculous in things.”
