your business, Isobel. Or anyone else’s.”
“You care for her,” Isobel said in a flat tone that spoke of her skepticism. “What an entirely prosaic, lukewarm declaration. I also care about my mare, Epona, my new capote bonnet, and whether my cup of tea is hot. You’re not half-hearted about anything that you do, Hamish. Something’s going on, and I want to know what it is.”
Hamish forced himself to unclench his back teeth. “Olivia is a lovely young woman who’s well connected. She can assist you with making your debut next Season. It will be an opportunity for you to meet—”
Isobel gave a derisive, completely unladylike snort of laughter. “My debut? Now I know what the problem is. You’ve gone mad.” She took a few ungainly steps toward him, her left foot dragging across the Turkish hearthrug. “Look at me, Hamish. I mean really look at me. You know I don’t want a debut. I never have and never will. I could think of nothing worse than limping through the ton’s ballrooms and Almack’s. Being stared at, and whispered about, and laughed at. Or, worse, looked upon with pity.”
“It wouldn’t be like that. Look at me, for God’s sake.” Hamish pointed at the mangled side of his face. “This has never stopped me from entering a ton ballroom. You’re my sister and—”
“Now you’re the one who’s being naive, Hamish. Of course it would be like that. I may be Lady Isobel MacQueen, but that will hardly signify when all anyone will notice is my clubfoot. Aside from that, I love Muircliff. I love the Isle of Skye. I don’t want to live somewhere else. And I don’t want to leave Mama.”
“Ha! So that’s the real reason you’re settling for someone like MacDonald.” Cynicism sharpened Hamish’s tone. “And I’m sure he’s more than happy to set up home with you here at Muircliff.”
“No! That’s not . . . just stop it, Hamish.” Isobel pressed a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. “Stop twisting everything I say. Look . . . I don’t want to argue with you anymore. Not tonight when you’ve just arrived home with your new bride. Oh, and your ward whom you’ve said nothing about as well. But I suppose that’s a discussion for another time.” She huffed out an exasperated sigh. “I just wish you would think on all I’ve said. And that you’ll consider meeting with Brodie. Hear what he has to say.”
Hamish hardened his gaze. “You can give me reproachful looks and sigh all you like, Isobel. I won’t change my mind about this.”
A steely light entered Isobel’s eyes. “And neither will I. You’re lucky Brodie and I didn’t decide to wed over the anvil weeks and weeks ago. But both of us wanted a regular church wedding. Brodie’s brother is Dunmuir Kirk’s minister after all.”
Damn her and her stubbornness. Hamish could feel a megrim beginning to penetrate the base of his skull. Why was his life suddenly dominated by females giving him boundless grief all at once?
Despite his headache, he had the sudden urge to get soused. If he were in London, he could visit the Pandora Club and try to forget all his woes by losing himself in all manner of nefarious activities—drinking, gaming, and whoring, and not necessarily in that order.
His marriage was one of convenience only, and men in his position took mistresses to bed all the time. He’d kept mistresses in the past. Four years was a long time to forgo sexual congress until he and Olivia parted ways. Except, could he do that to the lass? Go behind her back and swive other women? Would he even find it satisfying?
Oh, dear God. Could it be that he didn’t actually want to bed anyone else but his wife?
Pushing the disturbing thought away, Hamish picked up his glass and swallowed a large, soothing gulp of whisky. “How is Mama? Angus says she’s well at the moment.”
“She is . . .” Isobel’s brow pleated into a frown. “Will you visit her this evening? She’ll dine in her rooms as usual, but she’d very much like to see you and hear all about your news.”
Hamish nodded. “Aye. I will.” He wasn’t relishing the idea of having to describe how he’d suddenly come by a wife and a ward. He hoped his mother would take his explanations at face value even if Isobel and Angus hadn’t.
And then, of course, he’d have to tackle the difficult subject of Isobel’s ill-advised love