before her—an array of tiny cakes, pastries, and delicate sandwiches sat upon fine Wedgwood china plates, and a silver urn and teapot gleamed in the bright firelight.
Attired in a lovely peacock blue gown that was the perfect foil for her perfectly styled dark red hair, Lady Isobel MacQueen lifted her wide mouth into a welcoming smile as Hamish escorted Olivia over to the fireside.
Rising to her feet, she took both of Olivia’s hands in hers and gave them a gentle squeeze as Hamish conducted the introductions.
“I must confess, I’ve been dying to meet you, my lady,” Lady Isobel remarked, gesturing to Olivia and Hamish to take a seat on the settee near hers. She reclaimed her own seat and smoothed out her skirts with pale, slender fingers. “Ever since you arrived late yesterday and our other brother, Angus, told me Hamish had arrived with a wife.”
Olivia drew a bracing breath, praying she wouldn’t stutter too badly. “Please, c-call me, O-Olivia,” she said, mentally wincing at her less-than-smooth speech. “As we are now sis-sisters, I would like nothing m-more.” She couldn’t detect any shock or derision in the younger woman’s clear gray eyes. Not for the moment, anyway.
Isobel’s answering smile was warm. “I would be most honored,” she said, reaching out to lay a hand on Olivia’s arm. “And please, you must call me Isobel. I’m not one for using titles to address dear friends and family. I eschew stuffiness of any kind.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
As Isobel dispensed tea according to everyone’s preferences, Olivia studied her. Surely this lovely young woman wasn’t the person who’d entered her room and Tilda’s last night. And then she recalled what Hamish had told her. Isobel limped. But the figure Olivia had seen drifted across the floor like a ghost.
She was just taking her first sip of tea when Nurse Swan arrived with Tilda. Hamish introduced his ward to his sister, and Tilda, as she’d done with Angus, dipped into a neat little curtsy, which earned an exclamation of delight from Isobel. Once Tilda had carefully selected a small plate of treats, and Nurse Swan had installed her in a nearby armchair, Isobel turned to Olivia and said, “I hope you don’t mind my asking, Olivia, but I’d love to hear more about how you and my brother came to meet. And marry.”
Olivia caught her husband shooting a not-so-subtle scowl at his sister for being so nosy, but she was ready with an answer. Fortunately, as she and Hamish had made their way to the drawing room, they’d discussed what their story would be should Isobel ask. It lay somewhere between the truth and fiction.
“We . . . we were Grosvenor Square neighbors. My guardian and uncle, Reginald de Vere, leases the town house next door to Sleat House. And we also have several mutual friends.” Olivia briefly explained the connections between Charlie, Sophie, and Arabella, and Hamish’s friends Lord Malverne and Lord Langdale.
Isobel replenished her cup of tea. “And so you two wed in Gretna Green?”
“Yes . . .” Olivia forced herself to smile and took another calming breath. Given that Hamish’s feet had been hitherto firmly planted in the not-of-the-marrying-kind bachelors’ camp, it was only natural and inevitable that his family would be curious about the circumstances surrounding their unexpected union. “You see, I’m not quite twenty-one and my uncle and aunt wished me to wed a man of their choosing, a man I hold no affection for and did not want to marry. But as I knew of . . . I mean knew Hamish through our shared acquaintances, well, he stepped in and offered for my hand instead. However, as I’m not of age, we decided to wed in Gretna Green on the way here.”
Isobel clapped her hands together. “Oh, how romantic. My brother was your knight in shining armor.” She pinned Hamish with a knowing look. “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Hamish shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m not sure if that’s the most apt description, Isobel. If you read the scandal rags, I’m generally not known for my chivalry, especially where the fairer sex is concerned.”
His sister waved away his comment. “Oh, pooh. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Hamish.” She turned her attention to Olivia. “I could tell you about half a dozen instances—at the very least—when my brother has leapt into the fray to save someone. Why, even his rush back to Muircliff on this occasion, misguided though it is, is another perfect example—”
“Now, Isobel .