She wanted his mouth on hers, his arms around her, his hands covering her body. She wanted relief for the clawing need rising inside her. His mouth slid to her jaw, close to her mouth, while he eased the gown past her hips. Her heart raced and nervous excitement bundled low in her stomach. Every nerve ending was set on edge in anticipation as she stretched against him in silent surrender. Before she could think to tell him that the gown must be removed by lifting it over her head, she heard the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing.
The ruined dress fell to her feet, and Rory promptly released her. For a moment, he seemed almost as shocked as she. He stared at her until her breathing returned to normal and glanced meaningfully at the ball of fabric on the floor. He’d nearly ripped it in two.
“A dress like that is an invitation,” he said flatly. “Have care what you offer, Isabel. You just might get it.”
Isabel swallowed hard and nodded.
Without another word, he tossed her the dress he’d chosen for her, thankfully one that laced in the front, and watched—from a distance—her struggle to clothe herself. The heat in his penetrating gaze was contained, but no less volatile.
When she’d finished he led her from the room as if nothing had happened, which, given her confused state of mind, was just as well. Had he just intended to teach her a lesson, or had she finally managed a chink in his impenetrable armor?
Chapter 8
The crowd gathered in the great hall was conspicuously quiet as Rory led Isabel back to the dais, though no one stared too openly. Everyone in the room was keenly aware of what had happened, but none would dare shame his lady by making it known. Returning to the table, Rory offered Isabel a seat beside him, sat down, and resumed his meal as if he hadn’t just ripped her gown from her body and ravished her honey-sweet skin with his mouth. And as if she hadn’t just combusted like wildfire in his hands.
He’d made his point. She’d overstepped the bounds with that dress and pushed him too hard. Isabel had learned her lesson, but, he realized, so had he.
Not wanting to think any further about what had happened, Rory turned back to his conversation with Alex, engaging him in a heated debate about the fastest roads to Edinburgh. A good argument was exactly what he needed to release some of his pent-up tension.
Isabel must have been listening, because when he’d finished she asked, “Have you visited court recently, my lord?”
Rory relaxed. It seemed she, too, was anxious to put what had just happened behind them. It was a warning, nothing more. “No,” he said. “Though I must return soon.” He masked his annoyance at having to present himself to the king.
Her face lit up. “Oh, how I envy you.”
Rory ignored the strange pull in his chest at the burst of pleasure on her face. But he’d also heard the longing in her voice. “You were fond of court?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Very much so.”
“You were a lady-in-waiting to Queen Anne, I believe?”
“Yes, for almost a year.” She sighed. “It was a difficult adjustment at first, but I grew to love my time there.”
Rory realized it had probably been hard for her to leave her family. “You did not find it tiresome, all that pomp and formality?”
“It wasn’t like that at all,” she said. “The queen and king are very different when they are with their family.”
Her choice of words was telling. Rory was beginning to understand what she’d found at Holyrood. “And you were part of the family?” he asked gently.
He noticed the flash of loneliness cross her eyes, before she covered it with a wobbly smile. “Of course not,” she chided as if he’d only been jesting. “Though I was made to feel as if I were.”
And Rory realized how much she’d savored the experience. At court, she’d found what she’d been missing with her own family. She’d found happiness, but he also sensed a sadness—a certain vulnerability—in her, as if she were used to being on the outside and wanted desperately to be included but didn’t know whether she deserved to be. He guessed that although she approached things openly and enthusiastically, she pushed herself recklessly at times in response to those feelings of insignificance.
“And I learned so much,” she continued. “The king considers himself quite a devotee of literature and learning. He openly encourages the queen to pursue her scholarly endeavors. I was fortunate enough to join along.”
Rory lifted his brow. “You read?” When she nodded, he asked, “What are your favorites?”
“The great romances and the old chansons de geste, especiallyLe Morte d’ArthurandLa Chanson de Roland.” The tempo of her speech increased with her passion on the subject. “I also fell in love with a new playwright from England. Have you heard of William Shakespeare?” He answered yes. “My favorite isRomeo and Juliet.”
“I’m familiar with the work,” Rory said carefully. He did not miss the irony of her choice. Like King James, Queen Elizabeth detested feuding. It was to please his royal patron that Shakespeare had written the cautionary tale of star-crossed lovers fated to die as a result of their families’ incessant feuding.
Rory was impressed. Not many women of his acquaintance were proficient readers, and none, with the exception of Margaret, were as voracious. He shared her appetite for literature and added to his extensive library whenever he traveled. He found himself offering, “There is a library in the Fairy Tower. You may borrow whatever you like.”
When she smiled, his chest constricted until the air left him. Her delight was so poignant, he had to turn away or he’d find himself devising ways of keeping her happy.
Isabel was disappointed when Rory returned to his conversation with Alex. She thought he’d been enjoying talking to her. But her heart fell when she saw the beautiful dark-haired woman, Catriona—Isabel had learned her name—approach the dais. This was the first time they’d crossed paths since the handfast ceremony. Though they spoke for only a few moments, the reminder of his liaison shattered whatever joy she’d experienced from his kind offer to allow her access to his library.
He might have kissed Isabel’s shoulder and ripped off her dress, but he was taking his pleasure with someone else.
