What could she do? “Fight.” Then she looked down at her hands, the weight of the truth making even her gaze too heavy to maintain. “I cannot win against them. They are too many, and I am alone.”
An uncomfortable silence greeted her words. A few women murmured, “Surely not.” Sadie squeezed her hand, silently offering her support. But everyone here knew the truth. A girl alone had no power against a brutal guardian.
She didn’t mean to lose her composure. Indeed, she didn’t even realize she was crying until tears spoiled the silk of her gown. Dark splotches expanded on her bodice and belly. She couldn’t hide them. She couldn’t stop them. And with every new blot, she crumpled inside. She still sat straight, she still breathed, though her body shook with the effort. But inside, she thought she was disappearing with every tear.
There went her face, lost in the wet. There went her head because she could no longer think. Her shoulders had long since given way. And as for the rest of her—when had she last thought she could stand tall? Not since before her mother disappeared.
She felt him there before she could see. Her eyes were half-closed in misery when she felt his thumb on her cheeks, wiping away the wet. His fingers cupped her chin, raising her face up to his. He was on one knee before her, and his brows were knit with worry.
“Miss Spalding,” he murmured. Then he smiled. “Iseabail, would you do me the greatest honor in the world and become my wife?”
She heard the gasps all around her and somewhere Lady Rebecca whispered, “But I thought he loved me.”
It made no sense, this thing that was happening, and she blinked back her tears. “What?”
His expression softened. “You are not alone, Iseabail.”
She nodded slowly. “You said you would recommend me to a friend of yours.”
He nodded. “You shall meet him soon. I think we will need him when we go north to confront your uncle.”
Her eyes widened. Was he saying…? Did he mean…? “You will go with me? You will fight with me?”
He shrugged. “It is what a good husband would do.”
She blinked. “But…what?”
His thumb rolled over her lips. A tender stroke that nonetheless had her mouth tingling with awareness. Around her, every woman seemed to gasp with the gesture.
“Iseabail, marry me.”
His words finally sunk in. His posture on his knee before her. Even the way he gazed into her eyes with such delight. Damn it, the man was grinning at her.
“Are you making fun of me?” she asked.
“I assure you, I have never proposed to a woman in jest.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, flipped it over, and pressed his lips to her palm. “I want to be your husband, Iseabail Spalding. And I want to go to Scotland to save you from your horrible uncle.”
“Why?” she gasped. “You said, no. You said—”
“Because to be a hero, one must have an equally fierce heroine.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
He shrugged. “I don’t want a child who is dependent upon me for her safety. I want a woman who can fight. And you, my dear—”
She didn’t let him finish speaking. Finally his words penetrated her fog, and she answered as fast as she could, afraid he would change his mind.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes.” She had sworn to marry any man who would stand up to her uncle. That it was Reuben—
Her thoughts cut off as he pressed his mouth to hers. His hand cradled her face as his tongue swept inside. He thrust in with power, and he stroked her with a clever kind of frenzy. She could not explain it except that whatever he did left her weak. Not just the feel of their tongues intertwined, but the promise that he would help her. That she was not alone. That—
“There will be no more of that!” the countess exclaimed, and from the speed at which he withdrew from Iseabail, he’d probably been thumped on the head by the woman. He came away grinning, though, his body seemingly alive with energy while all Iseabail could do was sit in flustered confusion.
“A kiss between engaged persons is completely proper!” he said with a grin.
But the countess was not drawn in by his charm. Instead, she focused on Iseabail. “Think, girl, is this really what you want? It’s been a difficult day. Perhaps you should—”
“Wait until Hamish comes back?” Iseabail asked. “Go to another party and wonder when they will try for me again? I’m surprised he hasn’t stormed the house already.”
