“You must understand,” she begged, catching his arm when he tried to stand. “You cannot offer the same protection the earl ofKincreag can—you won’t even accept your own inheritance. My father will not see this as good, and he will be disgusted with me—think me a whore for throwing marriage to the earl away simply to lie with a man.”
“It cannot be undone,” he repeated forcefully, his gaze hard.
“It can,” Isobel said softly. “You must know virginity can easily be faked.”
He stood, ripping his arm from her hands. “Get out.”
Isobel squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear the look of bafflement and fury on his face. Suddenly what she had done no longer seemed like a good idea—but a selfish, hurtful one.
She went to him. “Forgive me—I should not have come…but I never imagined you would want to marry me, I vow it.”
He looked at her, his dark gaze traveling over her body. Then he closed his eyes and turned his head. “I canna even look at you. I pray you, leave before I do something I will regret.”
But she could not. Indignant anger began to warm her. How could he not understand? How could he have thought anything different?
“Philip? You’re being unfair.”
“I’m a bloody fool to have believed your words of love.”
“I meant them! I still do, but when has marriage ever been about love or desire?”
He exhaled, a bitter, rueful smile curving his lips. “When indeed? That’s what lovers are for, aye? Well, dinna think I’ll be hanging around Castle Kincreag to satisfy your needs, my lady.”
“You think I would cuckold my husband?”
He whirled around, grabbing her arms and shaking her slightly. Her eyes widened in alarm and she put her hands up to ward him off.
“What do ye think we did last night? You arebetrothed—as good as married. You’re right—I did not think for a minute you’d cuckold him—which is why I thought you’d come to me to save ye from a miserable marriage.”
“I do not need to besavedor protected—that wasn’t why I came. I just wanted to be with you, one last time.”
He released her abruptly, as if she’d burned him. “My mistake, my lady,” he said, his voice pouring over her like acid. “One I will not make again, I assure you.”
Isobel could not respond, her throat was clogged with tears and hurt anger. He glared down at her for a moment before turning away wearily.
“Go—before someone discovers you’ve been here. I’ll burn the sheets.”
He strode to the bed and began yanking them savagely off the mattress. Isobel saw the blood on them—evidence of what they’d done. She picked up the arisaid he’d given her from the floor and wrapped it around herself. He crammed the sheets in the fireplace and grabbed the tinderbox.
When he saw she still stood there, he said, his voice cold, “Good-bye, Countess.”
She flew to the door, flung it open, and ran straight into Stephen. He caught her arms and opened his mouth to speak, but froze, his pale blue eyes traveling over her in shock.
“Isobel…?” he said, scandalized.
She wrenched her arms away and hurried down the deserted corridors to her chambers.
Her sisters were still in bed, and she slid beneath the covers beside Gillian, burying her face in a pillow to muffle her sobs. How could her plans have gone so awry? Philip hated her now, and her beautiful memory was ruined by how it had ended. How could she ever bear Lord Kincreag as her husband, knowing Philip wanted her, and she had turned him away? Knowing he now despised her. The despair and hollow regret washed over her again and again until she felt weak and empty.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Gillian gazing down at her, sleep-tousled and muzzy, but her brow creased in concern.
“Tell me who hurt you, and I’ll have Hagan flog him.”
Isobel laughed softly, but it quickly dissolved into more tears. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over—he hates me.”
Gillian drew Isobel into her arms and spoke soothing words until Isobel was coherent again. When she lifted her head Rose was sitting up, watching with an auburn brow arched.
“I see you took my advice last night.”
