Treasured (42 page)

“It is time you returned to London,” Jack said without preamble.

“London!” Andrew jerked upright.

“Or Edinburgh. Wherever you prefer. As long as it is not here.”

“You are tossing me out of my own home?” Andrew surged to his feet.

“My home, Andrew. I believe we have discussed this before.”

“I grew up here! I belong here!”

“Yes, yes, I know. And I am an interloper.”

Andrew clenched his fists, his face flooding with color, but Jack merely cast a sardonic look at his doubled-up hands.

“Really, Andrew? Do you want a dustup?”

Andrew glared at him, jaw set, then stepped back, opening his hands. He gave a half shrug. “Of course not. I don’t engage in street fighting.”

“Naturally.”

“You can’t be serious.” Andrew moved restlessly around the room. “If you are still on about that little mistake I made regarding Mrs. Kensington, I can assure you it will not happen again. I had no idea it would prove to be such a contretemps.”

“No. This is not about my mother or your attempt to embarrass us. It is about your sister.”

“Isobel!” Andrew looked at him sharply. “You’re never telling me Isobel wishes me to leave.”

“Surely you know her better than that. She loves you, and she feels that she has failed you, given the man you have turned out to be.” Andrew’s eyes flashed, but he said nothing, and Jack went on in the same cool, inflexible voice. “Perhaps your hope that evening was to show Isobel what a mistake she had made in marrying me. Or perhaps you did not think at all about the effect it would have on your sister; that would be typical of you. But the fact remains that you caused her a great deal of distress.”

“Why should Isobel be distressed because your mother cannot hold her liquor?”

“Your pettiness shamed her. You embarrassed a guest in her house, and she feels responsible. It is a harsh blow to someone who loves as deeply as Isobel to find that the person she loves is not worthy of it.”

“As if you are!”

“I don’t claim to be worthy of Isobel. I am, however, able to protect her. And that is what I am doing.”

“She doesn’t need to be protected from me. I would never hurt Izzy.”

“No? You already have many times over. Do you think it did not cause her pain to see you waste your life drinking and gambling? That it did not hurt when you were too busy carousing in London to come home to visit the women who loved you? You did not spare a single thought for them when you threw away their home!”

“Isobel managed to keep Baillannan, didn’t she?” Andrew said sulkily, turning away.

“By offering herself to a stranger! Good God, man, your
selfishness is beyond belief. You have been blessed with everything a man could wish for, not least a family who loved you and raised you with tenderness and care. And you threw it away.” Jack stopped, drawing a deep breath. “I saw Isobel when you returned to Baillannan yesterday. She looked at you, not with joy, but with worry and unease. I understand that you dislike me, and frankly I don’t care. But when you attack me in whatever juvenile way you concoct, it wounds Isobel. I refuse to allow you to do that.”

“So you are her great protector,” Andrew sneered. “Her knight in shining armor.”

“I am her husband.” Jack’s voice was cold and filled with finality.

“Does Isobel know about this? Is she aware that you are throwing her flesh and blood out of his home?”

“No. And she will not know.
You
will not tell her.” Jack came forward, looming over Andrew. “I do not wish Isobel to be distressed. You will tell her you have decided to return to London. She will not be surprised. Take a few days playing at finding your treasure if you wish. But within a week, I want you gone.”

“How am I supposed to live?”

“I understand that you still hold a fund whose income should be enough to sustain you.”

“A pittance.”

“As long as you do not lose your principal, it will be quite adequate. In addition, I will see to it that you receive a monthly stipend.” Jack held up a warning finger. “That stipend will stop the instant you write to Isobel, begging her for money or describing your woes. It will stop if you go to her whining that I have tossed you out. You will visit Baillannan
once a year—two if you choose—to visit your aunt and sister. If you do not, that will stop the money as well.”

“I am sure Isobel would be pleased to know you are managing her life for her.”

“Isobel is well capable of managing her own life and most of ours as well, and I am sure she will continue to do so. But I intend to make sure that she is not made unhappy over you. I will not let you place her in a position where she is torn between her brother and her husband. Do you understand?”

“Of course I do. I’m not dim.”

“And do you agree to my conditions?”

“Yes, damn you. Yes.” Andrew whirled away. He stalked to the door, then turned his head back to look at Jack. “Cousin Robert was right about you.”

“Mm. No doubt he was right about you as well.” Jack watched coolly as Andrew stomped out the door.

Jack dismounted and tossed the reins to a groom. Andrew’s return to the house had spurred him to resume his rides. Isobel had, predictably, fussed, but even she had to agree that he could not live his entire life without venturing outside. He had ridden out for the first time today, and he had felt exposed, like a bug on a stone wall, uneasily aware of the hills and rocks around him, where any number of attackers could be hiding. He had made himself keep to a canter, neither glancing over his shoulder or shortening the length of his ride. He was determined to make it clear that he was not a man to be frightened away.

Still, he admitted, at least to himself, that he let out a sigh of relief when Pharaoh trotted back into the stable yard. Jack went inside, where he was disappointed to find that Isobel was not at home, and neither his mother nor Elizabeth had any idea where she had gone. He wriggled out of an invitation to sit and converse with them, instead making his way to the office.

It was foolish, he told himself, to feel vaguely aggrieved that Isobel had gone off without him. After all, it was not as if she had to live in his pocket all the time. They were adults; they had separate lives. That they had been in each other’s company almost constantly the last couple of weeks did not mean they would continue to do so. Still, he could not help but wonder where she had gone and why she had taken off the first moment he’d left the house.

When he stepped inside the study, he saw the folded, sealed piece of paper on the desk, his name printed in large letters across the front. Curious, he slipped his finger beneath the seal, breaking it, and unfolded the note. There in Isobel’s elegant hand was written:

Dear Jack,

I have gone to the castle. I await your arrival. Pray do not tarry. I can say no more, but I think you will not be displeased.

All my love,

Isobel

He read the missive again, a faint smile hovering on his lips, and his thumb ran over her closing words: “All my love.” She had never said such a thing to him before, had
she? What could she have arranged at the castle? He spent a pleasant moment envisioning the surprise; then, tucking the note into his pocket, he started out the door.

Hamish was lurking about, as he always seemed to be these days. “Coat, sir?”

“I think not. It’s too fine a day.”

“Indeed. And where might you be going on such a lovely day?”

“You have become oddly curious about my habits.” Jack gave him a quizzical look.

“Sir.” Hamish stiffened. “I thought Mrs. Kensington might inquire of me about your whereabouts. Of course, if you do not wish me to know . . .”

“No, no. No need to prune up on me.” As little as Hamish seemed a butler in other ways, he possessed a butler’s unerring ability to convey wounded feelings. “Should my mother ask, tell her that I have gone to the castle to meet the other Mrs. Kensington.”

“Ah, Miss Isobel.” The butler’s face cleared. “Very good, sir.”

Jack strode along the path to the castle, his steps quickening as he neared it. Isobel had spoken of taking a cold lunch to the castle one day, and he pictured her now, spreading out a blanket to arrange a picnic. He smiled, thinking that he could come up with more entertaining uses for a blanket.

The path emerged from the trees, and ahead of him the remaining walls and columns rose from the ground like old, bleached bones. He stopped, glancing around in bafflement. There was no sign of either blanket or Isobel. The place appeared quite deserted.

He strolled forward at a slower pace until he reached the
edge of the foundation. He turned to look out across the green expanse of grass where the castle floor had collapsed. Rubble filled one end, timbers sticking out into empty space. A beam stretched out over the hole, and at the splintered end of it, a patch of color fluttered. Jack strode forward, fear suddenly clutching at his vitals.

He had wanted to go explore the ruins, even talked of climbing down into the cellars. Surely the surprise Isobel had mentioned would not be such an expedition. She could not have ventured—

His thoughts broke off as the colorful scrap resolved into a recognizable object—Isobel’s light-red shawl was caught on the edge of the ruins.

“Isobel!”

He charged forward, his heart thundering in panic, and threw himself down at the edge of the gaping hole. He peered over the edge, relief flooding him when he saw no sign of Isobel in the rubble beneath him. In that moment he felt the ground beneath him shift, the edge crumbling away beneath his hands.

Frantically, he twisted around, grabbing for purchase and encountering nothing but slippery grass and stone slick with lichen. With a loud groan and crack, a timber gave way beneath him, and he felt himself slipping inevitably down. His grasping fingers found the timber as he fell, and for a moment he swung there, pain throbbing through his shoulder.

Trap! It had been a trap. Then, as his fingers slipped down the rough wood, sliced by splinters, and he fell into emptiness, the full reality of the betrayal shot through him. Isobel had lured him to his death.

I
sobel returned from Meg’s, her
heart light in her chest. Jack had returned from his ride unscathed; Coll had met her as she walked up from the loch and reported that he had seen nothing unusual in his long-distance surveillance of Jack’s ride.

“Miss Isobel!” Hamish appeared at the end of the hall. “Are ye back already, then?”

“Yes. Meg sent Aunt Elizabeth more tonic.” Divesting herself of her bonnet and gloves, Isobel extended the bottle to him. “Put it in the stillroom for me, would you?”

“Meg? No, I meant the castle. Are ye back from the castle?”

“The castle!” Isobel smiled. “No. Why would you think that?” She turned away. “Where is Jack?”

“At the castle, miss.” Hamish stared at her in confusion. “He’s gone to meet you.”

“What? Why would he— Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Hamish scowled. “It was himself who told me. I asked where he was going when he started out the door, just like you told me, and he said he was going to meet you at the castle, if his ma should ask.”

“Did you send a servant to follow him?” Isobel’s voice rose.

“No, miss. He was going to meet you. I thought there was no need.”

Terror speared through her, and Isobel whipped around, calling over her shoulder, “Send for Coll. Immediately! Tell him to come to the castle.”

Not waiting for the butler’s response, she ran out the door and down the path. At the castle she was met with a silent, empty tableau. Sucking in air, trembling all over from exertion and fear, she turned this way and that, looking for Jack. He was nowhere to be seen. Shadows from the tall trees were already stretching across the ground. It would be dusk before long. She wished she had thought to bring a lantern with her.

Her breath stopped when she caught sight of her shawl draped over one of the broken timbers, and for an instant she could not move.

“Jack!” Her voice came out as a croak, and she tried again, shouting as she ran toward the gaily fluttering shawl, “Jack! Are you here? Jack!”