Page 25 of The Lion

“I didn’t hurt my ankle,” Isobel told her sister as they headed across the great hall. “This is not what was supposed to happen.”

“Ye must enjoy his company to have been gone so long,” Beatrice, always sweet, pointed out. “That is something.”

“Ye do not understand,” Isobel said. “Aye, he may be a good one for conversation and such, but he is a rake through and through. Has no care who knows of his dalliances either.”

Beatrice’s eyes widened. “He told ye that?”

“No,” Isobel replied. “I personally saw him pat that maid’s bottom, and she was upset and demanding upon rushing up on us just moments ago.”

“A rogue without morals. Ye cannot marry him,” Beatrice stated firmly. “We must come up with a way for ye to not have to.”

There was a foolproof way, but first, she needed to speak to her mother privately. Why did her mother act as if the reason she’d not been offered as a bride in the first place would not be a problem? After all, it was customary for there to be a bedding ceremony, or at least the presentation of the bloodied sheets after a laird’s marriage.

Thankfully, many families no longer demanded to be present for the bedding. However, presentation of the sheets was still a popular custom.

No longer a virgin, she would have to find a way to fake the bleeding, however, there was no way to fake lacking a maidenhead.

There were two alternatives as she saw it. Tell Darach the truth and once he rejected her, they’d figure out how to stop the marriage. Or her mother could tell Lady Ross and then they’d cancel the marriage. Either way, they’d have to come up with a way for Darach’s concubine to keep her mouth shut.

“What are ye plotting?” Beatrice asked.

“I will need ye to help me tonight. I will speak to Darach and tell him the truth. After, he will surely not wish to marry me.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “Oh Isobel, that again. Ye are not even sure the act happened. Did ye not tell me yerself, it was quick and painless?”

“We joined. I am sure of it,” she whispered. “Neither of us knew what we were doing, but he said he felt my maidenhead.”

“Do not speak of that coward. He preferred his hysterical mother over ye. The woman hated ye because ye took his attention away from her. What kind of mother is that?”

Isobel shrugged. “The kind that saved me from a horrible life.”

“Yer betrothal was canceled as if it never happened.”

Thinking back to the night, Isobel frowned. It had been a hurried affair, both of them nervous and awkward. Her betrothed, Ian, had not bothered to show any kind of affection, but had asked that she spread her legs and he’d pushed inside. At least she thought he did. He’d been quite ineffective if she were to be honest. His member was flaccid and other than dripping sweat on her, he’d not done much more than thrust three times before lying beside her and promptly pretending to sleep.

Isobel had no idea what time it was, but the entire keep was silent. Everyone was asleep, except the guards who patrolled the outside. She often wondered what they did to remain awake. One night she went so far as to climb the stairs to the roof of her own home and found some of the men playing a game, while others stood watch. The one she stepped over to gain access to the starry-lit rooftop had been sound asleep.

The men had been shocked at her presence, but soon grew used to her coming up to watch the stars. One man in particular, by the name of Galen, was very knowledgeable about star formations and had taught her to find specific ones.

Now, however, it was a completely different quest that she embarked upon. Without anyone’s knowledge, she had to find Darach and tell him the reason why they could not marry. Besides the obvious. They disliked each other. No, that wasn’t it. He disliked her. From her perspective, she found him a bit likable, but not someone she could ever fall in love with. He was not the type to be faithful and she would never marry an unfaithful man.

The corridor was dark, and she held up the candle to see better. Heading down to where she assumed was his bedchamber, Isobel made her way silently in bare feet.

When she came to the door, her heart began to pound. If someone were to find her in the laird’s bedchamber, then without a doubt, there would be no way out of the marriage.

Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the door handle and push it down. The door opened just a bit, and she grabbed the front of her night rail to ensure not to trip. Noiselessly, she slipped into the room and blew out a breath.

The candle gave just enough light that she could make out the edge of the bed. Putting one foot in front of the other, she went to the nearest post, held up the light, and found the bed to be inhabited.

It was not Darach in the bed, but the dog, Albie, who lifted its head and let out a loud yowl. Then upon recognizing her, began wagging its tail and barking happily.

“Shh,” Isobel lowered to the bed and began petting the dog with her free hand. “Be silent,” she hissed.

The dog rolled onto its back demanding a belly rub and she complied thankful the animal was silent. Hopefully, whoever slept in the bedchamber across the hall would assume it was Darach who’d come to bed as he was most definitely not there.

After a few moments, Isobel backed out of the room. Albie seemed to be satisfied with the attention and curled back into a ball to sleep.

With a long exhale, she reached for the door handle, but what she touched was definitely not metal.