Treasured Read Online Free Page B

Baillannan?”
    “Of course I would!” Isobel planted her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “How can you say such a thing?”
    “Ah, there’s the Isobel I know.” His mouth quirked up at the corner. “You always were a fighter—just quieter about it than Meg.”
    She grimaced at him. “You needn’t insult me to get my dander up. Of course I’m angry. I would fight to the end if I had the slightest idea how.”
    “Och, lass, I have faith in you. You’ll think of some way around this scoundrel.”
    “I don’t know that he’s a scoundrel. He seemed a gentleman—quite pleasant, really. It was clear that he was surprised to find he would have to turn Andrew’s sister out on the streets.”
    “And would a ‘pleasant’ gentleman let a callow lad like Andy wager his home on a hand of whist? Whether he knew of your presence here or not, anyone could see that Andrew is a plum ripe for the taking. A real gentleman would not take advantage of that.”
    “No. You are right. A man of conscience would not. No matter how much Andrew believes he is awake on every suit, in truth he would be easy prey for any sharp. Perhaps Mr. Kensington even fuzzed the cards to ensure the outcome. I cannot help but be suspicious, but it matters not. I’ve no way of knowing that and even less of proving it.” She paused, thinking. “Still . . . I did give in too easily. I was so shocked I could scarcely even read what he showed me.” She squared her shoulders, determination settling on her face. “I cannot just run. I must do what I can to fight this. I shall demandto see Andrew’s vowel again. Perhaps I missed something. And . . . I can delay. It will take some time, after all, to make arrangements to leave. In the meanwhile, I shall write Papa’s solicitor in Inverness for advice. Perhaps I can come up with some way to thwart Mr. Kensington.”
    “You will. I am sure of it.” Coll took her hand in his own work-scarred one and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “And remember what Ma always told you: ‘You worry too much, wee one. Dinna fash yourself.’ ”
    “ ‘It will all be better come the morn,’ ” Isobel said, supplying the rest of Janet Munro’s admonition. “I know. I only hope she’s right.”
    “Ma was never wrong, don’t you remember?”
    Isobel smiled. “Thank you. I must go back and explain all this to Aunt Elizabeth. No doubt she is worrying herself sick.”
    “Go.” Coll pressed her hand again, then released it. “And remember—I’m here if you need me.”
    “Thank you.” Isobel walked back to the house, planning the best way to tell her aunt. As she entered the side door and started toward the stairs, however, she heard a sound from the direction of the drawing room. She paused, casting a glance upstairs, then turned and walked down the hall to the drawing room.
    Jack Kensington was inside, standing before the fireplace, his hands outstretched toward the flames. He turned at the sound of her steps and smiled. “Miss Rose. It’s a pleasure to see you again. Pray join me.”
    “I trust you are settled in,” Isobel began formally, ignoring the odd little flip inside her at the sight of his smile.
    “Yes. But I could see that it would take some time forthe fire to overcome the chill, so I came downstairs.” He cast a glance toward the huge stone fireplace behind him. “This seemed ample warmth.”
    “Yes. One would think they were accustomed to roasting an ox here,” Isobel said lightly as she walked over to join him. “My ancestors tended to build on a grand scale.”
    “I can see that. But ’tis lovely.” He gestured toward the carved rosettes that adorned the mantel and marble surrounds.
    “Yes, they were enamored with their own name as well.” Kensington was absurdly easy to talk to; she had to remind herself that he was not in any way her friend. His charm was too easy, too practiced to be real, and the warmth of his smile did not change the cool calculation in