“So, what does his letter say?”
Phoebe got up and walked across the room to look out the window. The ancient castle walls were surrounded by a moat deep enough for one to drown in and never be found. Perhaps she could just disappear and not answer Iseabail’s questions. She sighed and turned toward her friend, still unable to confess the contents of the letter.
“I didn’t tell you that Ross suggested Forrester and I become engaged.”
Iseabail gasped. “Why would he suggest that?”
Despite every outrageous act she and Iseabail had allowed the ton to believe they had partaken in within the past few months, none of it had occurred. Well,somethinghad occurred, but Phoebe had not been involved.
“To restore your reputation.”
Iseabail scoffed. “That hardly signifies. The ton has branded me a bastard, and a title climbing whore since before I married Nithesdale. I am neither, but I can’t prove it. What could they possibly say about me now that could be worse?”
Phoebe winced. She would have to tell Iseabail the current gossip. “They say that you and I are lovers, and the longer I stay at Caerlaverock, the worse the rumors will get.”
Iseabail’s hand went to her stomach once more, this time she looked as if she would cast up her accounts. “That does seem to be a bit more scandalous than I had bargained for.”
“Exactly. It was one thing for people to believe the two of us were involved with Nithesdale, but for the ton to believe we continued on together after his death can only hurt you more.”
“What about you?”
Phoebe smiled the sultry grin she had grown accustomed to giving the men of the ton. “It makes me the wanton widow I have always been.”
Despite the obvious queasy state of her stomach, Iseabail stood up and gave her best saucy tilt of her hip as she ran her hand down her side in the practiced move she’d perfected to win the heart of one man. “Then let them believe we aretwowanton widows.”
Phoebe laughed. “What happened to the inhibited woman I used to know?”
Iseabail sobered. “Life dealt me blows that threatened to break me, but I refused to let them.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“Stop.” Iseabail walked over and put her arm around Phoebe. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?” It was no use. Iseabail would not let it go until she knew exactly what was in the letter.
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“What question?”
“Don’t be coy with me, Lady Phoebe Drake.” She scolded her like a mother of six, not a first-time mother of one in the womb. “What’s in the letter?”
“You won’t like it.”
“I may love it.”
“You won’t.”
“Phoebe, let me be the judge.”
She bit her lip and then let the words spew from her mouth so quickly she wasn’t certain she said everything she should. “Forrester has been keeping tabs on the Duke of Ross since we left the house party, and as it turns out, he’s on his way here to claim you.” She winced, waiting for the words to sink in.
Iseabail’s arm slipped from around her shoulders and she wanted to pull her back and give her the comfort she needed.
“I can’t let him do that.”
“I know.”
“It would be wrong,” she whispered as if saying it alone was a sin.
