She fell silent for a moment, biting her lip. If he’d had his way, he would have made the foul woman pay for everything she had done, pay for the mockery she had tried to make of his marriage. But his wife was a kinder person than him, and sheclearly did not have the same lust for revenge he did. After all, this was her brother’s wife, and the familial bonds must have given her pause.
“Send her back to my brother,” she decided firmly. “But share wi’ him everything that we ken of her. He must know the woman he is married to, and I trust that he will make the right choice in what is to come next.”
He inhaled deeply. He would have taken some revenge on Isobel, given the chance, but he knew it would not have made Innes any happier. He nodded.
“As you wish,” he agreed. “I’ll have her locked away tonight and send fer the Anderson guards tomorrow.”
Innes couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the thought.
“I wonder what she’ll make of being in the dungeons for the night,” she giggled. “Hardly what she’s used to, eh?”
“No, but she might have to be if she insists on acting the way she has.”
She laughed and turned to kiss him once more. And, in the warmth of the water, the distance between their bodies had been entirely blurred.
There was no point at which he ended and she began.
Epilogue
Innes inhaled deeply as she sat at her desk, staring at the letter that bore her brother’s crest.
It had arrived that morning, and she had been delaying opening it since then, too worried about what would be waiting on the other side to split the seal and read it.
It had been a few days since Isobel had been sent back to the Anderson Keep. Innes had prayed that it had finally gotten through her head that Lachlan wanted nothing to do with her and that whatever twisted games she had been playing with him were well and truly done with.
But what would her brother make of it all? These accusations were being leveled against the woman he had married, after all. And he had clearly been enamored with her, in the way that Isobel seemed to be able to twist men with ease around her little finger. Innes was not sure if she was ready for the possibility that Arthur might scold her for spinning such stories against the woman he loved—if he took her side with all of this…
She forced all that out of her mind and tore open the letter. She could ponder all day long, but she would be better off finding out one way or another. Bringing the letter to the desk, she flattened it out and began to read.
Dearest sister,it began.
I cannot begin to tell you how distressed I was to hear of the nightmare Isobel put you through…
Her heart rested as she read through the rest of the letter, which was blotched with large spots of ink where he had clearly let his pen linger as he tried to make sense of exactly what he was supposed to say.
She could almost picture him, the furrow in his brow, the look on his face as he tried to make sense of it all. As much as Isobel might have attempted to push a wedge between them, he was still her brother, still the man who had cared for her and provided for her for so many years, and that care was written in every word of this letter.
He had received all the evidence they had against Isobel; the letters she had written to both of them and the notes that had attempted to coax them both into her grasp. Even if he wanted to, it would have been difficult to deny what she had done, as painful as it might have been and as foolish as it might have made him feel.
He swore to her that he would bring Isobel to justice for what she had tried to do. His heartbreak seemed etched into the letter, and she ached for him, wishing she could have been there at his side to assure him that none of this was his fault, though she doubted he would have believed her anyway.
Towards the end of the letter, he promised he would visit when he was feeling better, though it was hard for her to imagine that would come anytime soon.
And he offered his apologies to Lachlan, too, for being so quick to judge him. Lachlan would be glad for that, she was sure of it. Because all he wanted in the world was for her to be happy, and nothing could have made her happier than knowing that her brother and her husband were finally on the same page—even if it had taken the awful betrayal of Isobel to make it happen.
By the time she finished reading the letter, the ink had been marred by a few happy tears. Her heart was full, as much as it hurt for her brother. And she knew she had to find Lachlan to tell him about this. He had been fussing over her something awful the last few days, since she had returned from the river, no matter how much she tried to assure him that there was nothing for him to concern himself with.
She wandered along to his study, only to find it empty. It wasn’t until she caught sight of him through the window that she realized where he was, down in the gardens, amongst the late blooms that filled the ground. She could not help but smile, seeing him down there. In some ways, he looked so out of place, a Laird amongst the daisies, but she would not have had him any other way.
Making her way down the stairs, she paused for a moment in the archway that led to the garden, watching him where he stood amongst the lavender, chrysanthemums, and echinacea, the scents mingling in the air. He stooped to pluck daisies from the ground, filling his hand with the white and yellow blooms, until he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye and straightened up.
“By the Saints,” she teased. “My fearsome Laird in a daisy patch? I never thought I’d see the day…”
“Well, since you seem to find these things so fascinating,” he remarked lightly, striding over to join her. “I thought it only fair I see what all the fuss was about for mysel’.”
She bit her lip as he drew up in front of her, all memory of why she had come to see him here in the first place forgotten. He lifted one of the flowers he had plucked from the garden and slipped it into her golden hair, nestling it between her braids carefully.
"Just like on our wedding day,” he remarked.
