Isobel gaped at her a moment before averting her eyes, staring at their joined hands. Her head spun and she felt as if she might bock. “What did Sir Philip say to this?”
“He did not say nay.”
Isobel’s hands tightened involuntarily on her sister’s, unable to even consider Philip wed to her own sister. Unthinkable.
“But I offered to do it for him,” Gillian said.
Isobel looked up, confused.
Gillian smiled. “Like you, he can’t seem to tell Father how he truly feels. Everyone is so afraid of disappointing Da—has anyone thought for a moment that what our father truly wants is for us all to be happy?”
“What about you? You’re going to marry an old man in France—would you dare tell Father that you’d rather die?”
Gillian sighed. “I know, I know—but after speaking with Sir Philip, I have reconsidered. I’m going to tell Father that I want to marry neither the Frenchman nor Sir Philip. I’ll beg him to find someone else, someone more like Rose’s Jamie or your earl.” She squeezed Isobel’s hands. “And I think you must tell Da that you want Sir Philip.”
Isobel shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Philip won’t have me…he hates me. And my marriage to Kincreag is veryimportant.”
Gillian made a scoffing noise.
“I am serious, Gilly. Lord Kincreag can protect us from what is happening in Scotland. We are witches, and the whole world hates us for what we are. Father is right to wed me to him. It’s not just about my happiness. It’s about all of our lives.”
Gillian looked down. “Forgive me. I forget that because I’m not a witch.”
Isobel knew the difference tore her sister up. She didn’t know what to say. Despite the danger, Isobel would not trade the magic she’d received from her mother to be normal. It was a part of her mother, and she cherished it.
“Magic is not everything,” Isobel finally said.
“When you’re a MacDonell, it seems like it is.”
They sat in silence for a long while.
“Oh,” Gillian said. She unbuttoned the top of her bodice, reached inside, and withdrew a ring. Philip’s ring. The topaz stone glinted at Isobel in the sunlight.
Gillian offered it to Isobel. “He told me to tell you that if you need him, you have only to look. And that he understands…whatever that means.”
Isobel took the ring reverently, glad for her gloves, knowing she couldn’t bear to feel him. It would break her heart all over again. It was breaking anyway, from this final gesture of protection. A tear dripped from her chin onto the ring.
“What difference does it make which of us he weds?” Gillian said. “Father approved him for me, why not for you?”
Isobel shook her head, unable to look up from the topaz ring, even as it swam in and out of focus with her tears. “I can’t!”
Gillian made a rude noise. “Fine. If you won’t marry him, I will.”
Isobel’s head jerked up, pinning her sister with a look of astonishment. “You wouldn’t!”
Gillian nodded determinedly. “I will. Ido notwant to go to France. Ido notwant to marry an old man.”
“But…but you said he didn’t want to wed you!”
Gillian shrugged. “What matter? He won’t say nay to Da, so if I say I want nothing more than to marry Sir Philip, I shall have him. Sir Philip is cowardly enough to go along with it. And you will sit cowardly by and say naught.”
“He is not cowardly,” Isobel mumbled through stiff lips.
Gillian ignored her. “I refuse to be miserable if I don’t have to be.”
Isobel just stared at her sister in disbelief.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Gillian picked up her sewing again. “If you are afraid to grab him, you have to live with the consequences.”
