Page 27 of What a Highlander’s Got to Do

Mostly that last bit.

Among the three families, there were ten infants under ten traveling with them, and no matter how she managed to arrange her seating, she always ended up in a coach with at least two of the annoying ones.

Then again, they were all annoying in their own way.

“Isobel!” A stentorian tone rumbled through the room, and Isobel peeked around her uncles to see who it could be.

Her eyes widened as she recognized Aunt Esmeralda herself.

She rushed to her side and kissed her leathery cheek. “I thought you were ill,” she said. And then, quickly, “I’m so glad you’re not dying.”

“As if,” the old woman snorted.

“She miraculously recovered when we mentioned we were going to London,” Mama said with hardly a hint of irony in her tone.

“Bah. Of course I did. Who wants to languish in Haltwhistle with a bilious sister-in-law when one could go to London for one last Season before I die?”

Isobel nodded, though she had no desire to go to London for the first Season.

“You’re not going to die,” Mama said sternly.

“Darling,” Esmeralda barked. “Everyone dies. The trick is to try to have some fun in the doing of it.” She turned to Isobel and glowered. “Do sit. Have some tea. You’re wet.”

“Did you have a nice ride, dear?” Lady Willouby asked, pouring her a cup.

Isobel flushed as she recalled how nice a ride it had been. “Lovely. Thank you.”

“I should thank you, I suppose. For exercising Willouby’s stallion. He gets pent up when he doesn’t get his run, and hardly any of our grooms can handle him.”

“He’s a lovely beastie,” Isobel said. “I’ve enjoyed him immensely.”

“I’m so glad.”

“I canna thank you enough for letting Isobel stay with you,” Mama said.

“I’ve loved having her company. Such a sweet girl.” Lady Willouby sighed. “I get so lonely sometimes when Willouby’s in town.”

Aunt Esmeralda made a rude noise, as old ladies are wont to do. “Why do you not join him there? London is exciting.”

Lady Willouby took a sip of tea. “I must admit, I don’t care for all the jostling.”

Esmeralda sniffed. “It is crowded.”

“I was referring to the social jostling,” Lady Willouby said, offering a plate of cakes. “It’s so much more peaceful here. Occasionally the neighbors descend, but most of the time they leave me be. You must be thrilled to leave the dull country life, though, Isobel.”

Without reflection, Isobel sighed. “I’m not quite ready to leave yet,” she said.

To which Lady Willouby’s cheeks pinkened. “What a lovely thing to say, my dear.”

Isobel didn’t have the heart to tell her the true reason she didn’t want to leave. Thankfully, there was no need to speak the truth.

But it hung heavy on her heart.

Regret.

What a shame she had to leave him now, when she’d just discovered how wonderful physical passion could be with a man a woman really wanted.

What a shame she wouldn’t have a chance to say good-bye.