Isobel emerged from the Keep, and Arthur rushed to her. They came down, she leaning on Arthur’s arm heavily. She didn’t seem too unwell to Innes, at least at a glance, but she supposed it wouldn’t have been becoming for her to make mention of the fact.
“Have a safe journey home,” she told Isobel as she pulled her sister-in-law into a hug.
“Oh, thank you, dear sister,” she hugged back, but, before she pulled back entirely, a glimmer of something showed in her eyes.
“Ye know,” she remarked. “I think I might have left something in our chambers. I packed in a haste. Would you bea dear and check them once we’re gone to make sure there’s nothing in there that shouldn’t be?”
“Of course,” Innes nodded. Isobel smiled, though it did not reach her eyes.
“See you soon, Innes.”
She climbed into the carriage, and Innes stood and watched until they were out of sight. Though Arthur had promised her that he would be back soon, she could not fight the feeling that this was the last she would be seeing of him in a long time.
She made her way up the stairs and to the chambers that Isobel and her brother had stayed in the night before. At a glance, it looked like nobody had been there at all; as though Isobel had never unpacked. Perhaps never intending to stay longer than she entirely had to.
But, as Innes began to move through the room, she spotted the corner of what looked to be a piece of parchment sticking out from beneath one of the pillows.
She took it at once. It was folded over itself, and, on the front, the wordLachlanwas written in a curling, looping font. Her heart dropped.
Was this what Isobel had meant for her to find?
Had she sent her here to see the note she had left her husband?
It was addressed to him, but Isobel would not have asked her to come here unless she knew she would find it…
Glancing back over her shoulder to make sure that she would not be disturbed, Innes unfolded the letter. And what she saw inside was enough to make her stomach turn.
Lachlan, I have missed you terribly. Seeing you again has only made what I need to do more clear. Meet me at the Torrisdale Inn, midnight. I have convinced Arthur to stop there overnight.
The note was not signed, but it hardly needed to be. There was only one person this could be from, and Innes knew that Isobel had intended for her to see this. But why? To prove to her that she had complete and utter command over her husband, even after all this time?
Innes wanted to believe more than anything that Lachlan would not have paid heed to these words, but even she could not be sure.
She rose to her feet, tucking the letter beneath her skirt and making her way to her chambers. She should have gone downstairs to eat with the rest of the Keep. She was sure that there would be plenty of questions about her absence, but she did not feel like answering them, not in that moment.
She waited in her room for what felt like a lifetime; surely, Lachlan would have to come and check on her as soon as he heard of her brother’s departure to make sure that she was not entirely distressed.
And, eventually, she heard his footsteps on the stairs. She glanced up as he arrived in the doorway, a grin on his face, entirely unaware of the distress running through her mind in that moment.
“Ye left me alone in bed this morning,” he remarked playfully, sliding his hand to her shoulder and dropping a kiss on top of her head.
She managed a small smile, but only just. The letter felt like it was burning a hole in her dress, and she knew she had to give it to him. She had to make sure that his feelings for Isobel were well and truly gone, or she might be dragged into this mess even deeper than she had before.
“There was a letter for you in their chambers,” she said, as casually as she could. “It was addressed to ye.”
She held it out to him, feigning innocence. He looked down at the writing on the front, and she wondered if he recognizedthe script. Perhaps he and Isobel had sent love letters back and forth to each other. The way that Isobel wrote about him in that note, it certainly seemed they had shared something of some seriousness.
He flipped it open, his eyes glancing across the words. She held her breath, studying his face for any sign of a response, of something that might give away what he truly felt.
“What is it?” she asked lightly.
“Nothing fer you to worry about,” he claimed as he folded the letter and tucked it into his tunic. “Just brotherly warnings from Arthur.”
Her face tightened, the smile gritted. He had lied to her. Which meant, no doubt, that he had intentions of taking Isobel up on her offer.
She turned her attention towards the empty hearth, willing herself not to let the pain show on her face. As he strode out of the bedroom, though, she could not help but cast a look after him and wonder if everything she had been starting to believe about this man had been nothing more than a tale of her own imagination.
The night drew on; the darkness outside took on a velvet-blue hue, the air still and silent as everyone retired to their chambers for the night.
