“He’s not going to reconsider in a few days, dear,” Gillian said. “I appreciate your confidence in my charms, but they are inflated. Besides, as the eldest, Isobel has an additional enticement I do not posses. If Uncle Roderick dies without issue, Glen Laire passes to Isobel’s husband.”
Rose nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, I’d thought of that. But as you said, he is filthy rich. What’s one more estate to him if he could have you in his bed?”
Gillian looked at Rose incredulously. “You must be jesting. Isobel is beautiful—and she comes with the possibility of lands.Sheis more desirable.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “You’re not listening to me. She will be rude and unpleasant to him. She’ll make herself look like a hag. You, on the other hand, will be as stunning as ever, kind and gracious, hanging on his every word.”
“What words?” Gillian said, becoming more distressed by the moment. “He hardly speaks!”
“He doesn’t seem the type of man to be swayed by flirtations and pretty faces,” Isobel offered. “I don’t think he views marriage that way. He clearly said he didn’t care which of us he got, and by that time he’d seen all three of us and preferred not a one of us over the other.”
Rose glared at them both. “Very well, if you two continue to be blockheads, I will devise the plan. Isobel—you are deathly ill. In my exalted position of castle healer, I will assure him it is impossible for you to stand up, let alone go through with a ceremony or bedding. If he insists on seeing you, I have something guaranteed to make you vomit all over him. In the meantime, Gillian will try to seduce Kincreag.”
“Seduce!” Gillian protested. “You said charm a moment ago!”
Rose directed her gaze to Gillian’s ample bosom, and said, “You have only to rub against him, darling, and he’ll be charmed and seduced, both.”
Gillian flushed and plucked at her bodice, hunching her shoulders slightly.
“I’m not discounting Gillian’s obvious attributes,” Isobel interrupted. “But I’ve met the man. I think he’s frozen both above and below the belt.”
Rose frowned thoughtfully. “That may be…He doesn’t seem to fancy women.”
Gillian’s hand went over her mouth and her eyes widened. “Do you think he fancies men?”
“No. I don’t think he fanciespeople.”Rose paced the room, her arms crossed over her chest. “Let’s see. Perhaps seduction is a bit drastic. Why not just…keep him distracted—so that the feels he knows you better than Isobel, and when Father is stronger and we propose the new matches, he will not be so…offended. I’ll make sure he hears the most awful stories about you Isobel, so that he’s sure to be repulsed. After all—whether he fancies men or women, he’ll prefer to wed a lass like Gillian than the horror he’ll think Isobel is.” She turned to them, auburn brows arched. “Well? What do you think?”
Isobel shook her head slowly. “Where did you get such a devious mind, Rose?”
“It was a necessity for survival on Skye.” She turned to Isobel. “Get ye into bed. I’ll tell everyone there will be no wedding until you’re well.”
Isobel had just slid beneath the covers when there was a rap onthe door. Rose hurried to the door and opened it a crack.
“What?”
Isobel heard some muffled argument, then the door was forced open, and Uncle Roderick burst in, looking extremely annoyed. Isobel quickly shut her eyes, trying to feign illness. It wasn’t hard—the deception made her stomach queasy.
She heard him stride quickly to the bed and stand over her. “What the hell is going on here?” His hand was on her forehead, then her cheeks. “She hasna got a fever.”
After a moment he tapped her cheek lightly. “Open yer eyes, lass.”
Isobel didn’t know what to do. Should she be insensible? Babble incoherently? She decided to pretend unconsciousness and simply lie there.
“Leave her be, Uncle! She’s very ill!” Rose was there, Isobel could smell the faint scent of mint that drifted from her sister’s hands as she tucked Isobel in more securely.
“My arse she’s ill,” Uncle Roderick said. “What are you three up to?”
“Just what are you accusing us of?” Rose asked indignantly.
He was silent a moment, then Isobel heard him stride across the room. She cracked one eye and saw him standing over Gillian. Gillian calmly placed her sewing in her lap and looked up at him inquiringly.
“Gilly, don’t you lie to me. What are you and yer sisters up to?”
“Nothing. Isobel is ill. She caught a chill last night.”
“Last night,” Roderick scoffed. “You’ll all catch hell from me ifye dinna tell me what’s going on. Isobel is to marry an earl in a few days. She canna be ill.”
“But alas, she is. The wedding will have to be postponed.” Gillian stood and smiled prettily. “Shall I inform the earl?”
