Page 23 of The Lion

Darach nodded. “Very well. I am not sure that I have time for a wife. Mother insists on it, however, I’m not sure.”

“Ye should marry for love.”

The words, so much like his mother’s struck a chord. “I do not have time for such things, Miss Macdonald.”

“Ye should just call me Isobel. Ye keep switching between Miss Isobel and Miss Macdonald. For goodness sakes, we have known each other since we were children.”

“Very well. Then ye call me Darach.”

“I cannot do that,” she snapped. “Yer a laird.”

They reached the slight incline and he turned to assist her up. Just as he did, unfamiliar with the terrain, Isobel tripped and tumbled sideways.

She cried out in pain.

“I will help ye up, do not move.” Darach leaned forward and she pushed his hands away.

“I am fine. Just need to catch my breath.” She inspected her bleeding elbow. “I feel silly.”

Sitting on the ground inspecting her elbow, dark brown waves of hair coming loose from the fall, she was a lovely picture.

“Isobel, let me help ye up.” Darach took her arms and pulled her forward. In that moment, Isobel winced realizing something hurt and she pushed forward, perhaps to hop on one leg. All Darach knew was that he lost his balance and landed on his back. Despite releasing Isobel being the smart thing to do, he had not, so she landed on top of him in a tangle of skirts and curses.

Chapter Eight

Isobel gave up her attempts to get up, especially as Darach held her arms. She flopped atop him and lifted her head. “Ye should have warned me.”

“Ye fell before I could,” he replied dryly with a slight curve to his lips. “Ye should get off of me. Someone could happen upon us.”

If she were to be honest, his body was quite comfortable, and she was exhausted from their overly long trek. However, upon catching herself looking at his mouth, she hurriedly stood and held out her hand to help him up.

After sitting up, he looked at her hand and then took it. Once he stood in front of her, he brushed off sand from his legs and bottom.

Taking a cue from him, Isobel did the same.

“Ye will not fool anyone. I saw ye both, cavorting on the ground.” The same maid who she’d seen him hit on the arse earlier stood with her arms crossed and a furious expression. With a glare of propriety, she looked from Darach to Isobel. “And ye kind are quick to call us harlots.”

She whirled on her heel and ran toward the keep.

“Well that certainly complicates things,” Darach said, not looking the least bit worried.

Isobel huffed. “She will not say anything. Especially if it means our mothers will demand ye marry me.”

They began walking toward the keep, in the distance, the maid continued forward, slowing down a bit and constantly looking over her shoulder at them. “She must have spotted us from the upper levels.” It occurred to Isobel that the consequences of their being out alone for so long, and then the fall would come to light if anyone else had seen them.

“I would not worry,” Darach said and yawned. “I have much work to do. Good night, Isobel.”

He hurried away to the same side door they’d entered, the same one the maid had gone into.

“The front door? Or the side door to see what he’s about?” Isobel considered out loud just as Beatrice came out the front door.

“Everyone has been looking for ye,” her sister exclaimed. “Where did ye and the laird go?”

She let out a breath. “For a walk. We were there within sight for the last while.” Isobel pointed in the general direction of where they’d fallen.

Upon Beatrice inspecting her appearance, she added. “I tripped and fell.”

“Isobel Macdonald, come inside this instant,” her mother stood at the top of the steps with a furious expression. “Ye have given me a great scare. If not for the laird missing as well, I would have demanded guards be sent out to search.”