Page 19 of A Gypsy in Scotland


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“I must finish painting his face,” Honoria said with a wave of her hand. Not entirely a lie. “And that sculpted chest is pleading to be painted.”

Her sister peered at her for a thoughtful moment. “You mean to use him for whatever scheme you are formulating.”

“I am not formulating anything, except maybe palettes of different colors to use in my painting.”

“If you can call eyes, chest, and lips a painting,” Isla pointed out. “Your paintings cause shivers down our brothers’ spines.”

Honoria sealed her lips over a laugh. “Aye, I am aware.”

“Of course you are,” Isla said, setting down her quill. “Did this Lash provide any useful information?”

“Nay, I get the sense he doesn’t want us to pry too much.”

“Not a promising sign, Honoria.”

“Och, who cares? The man needs our help. You should hear his accent, Isla.’Tis a mixture of thick foreign sweetness and drawn out vowels, flowing over your skin like fresh river water.”

“’Tis even worse than I thought,” Isla muttered with a shake of her head. “You are besotted.”

“I’m intrigued, that is all.”

“We must inform Hugh. If men are searching for him, we must be prepared.”

“Fine, I shall consider it. Who are you writing to?” Honoria asked, already knowing the answer but desiring a change of subject.

Isla glanced away, but not before Honoria noticed her brightened cheeks. “The wind, nothing more.”

“And has the wind thought to return any of your letters?”

“Nay, and curse his behind for it. Why can’t I preserve some of my dignity and stop humiliating myself?”

“You are not humiliating yourself, dear. Perhaps he has not received your letters, or he is cautious. What man wouldn’t be after nine Highlanders threatened to end his life?”

Isla cracked a small smile. “It’s neither here nor there, Honoria. It’s over. He left. I’ve moved on.”

“And still you write him.”

“And still I write him,” Isla repeated on a wistful sigh. “Mostly words of anger. Any foul turn of phrase I can come up with.”

“That ought to be colorful,” Honoria murmured, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

“It is.” Isla shook her head. “But I’d much rather discuss the man you’ve formed an attachment to, and how you plan to save hislife once our brothers return.”

“I have not attached myself to him,” Honoria disagreed. “And he will be gone by then.”

Isla stared at her intently before understanding lit her eyes. “You think to use him to leave.”

Honoria’s ears burned. “I thought you didn’t want to be part of myschemes.”

Isla harrumphed. “It matters little whether I wish to be part of it or not. In the end, I always am. You mean to use that poor man to defy Adair and ask him to escort you to Edinburgh and risk, nay,ensurethe wrath of our brothers.”

Honoria sputtered. “And whose fault is it that I have been reduced to approach a stranger?”

“They cannot refuse you forever.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Honoria muttered. “But they have refused me long enough. If Lash agrees to take me to Edinburgh, that will be splendid, if not…” Honoria lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Then I shall make the journey on my own.”

“You cannot ask a stranger to escort you to Edinburgh, Honoria. What if he is a bad man?”