Please God, let her not be injured or afraid.
Isabella considered this. “He is not a kind man,” she agreed. “Nor is hemyLord Gaunt.” She twisted her fingers together. “I do not even like the man.”
“Ye are about to wed him,” he pointed out, dryly.
She sighed deeply, her eyes unreadable. “If I marry him, I may be able to set your sister free.”
Nay,that was not what he wanted. Though the idea had sound logic behind it. Hamish scratched at his growth of beard. He had yearned for the lady’s help, and she had offered it, freely, as soon as she heard of his sister’s plight.
But the notion of her marrying Lord Gaunt made him itch with anger all over again.
“I canna ask ye to wed such a man for my sake,” he said carefully. “I had hoped we might find another way forward.”
“You want to involve my brother, Tristan.”
In her refined English voice, the idea sounded preposterous. But Hamish had come too far to give up now.
“Aye,” he said simply.
“He is a family man, with a wife and two children. Innocent children,” she stressed.
“There are innocent children in Greenock whose lives are in the hands of Lord Gaunt.” The shadows in the corners reared up again as a candle sputtered its last. “The livelihoods of their parents now depend on Gaunt and whether he proves generous or self-serving.” He tried to keep his voice even. “On whether he is knowledgeable with the land and the crops, or whether he allows the harvest to fail.”
When Isabella said nothing, he pressed on. “What do ye think? Is he a generous man? Does he care to keep up with farming practices?”
She shook her head. “I cannot imagine it.”
Hamish had said all he had to say. He got to his feet, feeling again the pain in his knuckles and the lingering regret of his own foolishness.
He had tried and failed. He would not persevere with false hope.
“I shall see yer door is properly mended come the morn,” he said. “And we shall leave ye here just as soon as the thaw begins.” He gestured toward the shuttered window.
Isabella also scrambled to her feet, a frown chasing across her brow. “You are leaving?”
“We shall return to Scotland, where we belong.”
She shook her head. “No. I meant are you leaving me now?”
He could not allow himself to look at her. Instead, he busied himself with picking up the water pitcher. “I have seen with my own eyes that ye shall have no lasting injuries.”
“And that is the only reason you came up here?” Her voice grew louder.
“I decided I would tell you the truth about my sister. So you knew I was no villain.” He grimaced. “And to ask one last time for the help of your brother.” Warm water slopped over his hand as he gestured too violently with the pitcher.
“But you do not stay to hear my answer?” Isabella raised her chin defiantly, daring him to look her in the eye.
As soon as he did so, he felt himself once again in her power.
“What is your answer?” he asked helplessly.
Candlelight haloed her golden hair. She was like a Goddess from the old religion which still had roots in the hills and valleys of the highlands.
“I will speak to my brother on your behalf.”
Relief made him weak. He placed the pitcher on the nightstand before he dropped it.
“Thank ye,” he began.
