Isobel glanced swiftly at Marion and Marsaili, who both looked like happy conspirators, and gratitude swelled in her chest. “I am grateful ye will judge me on my own merits,” Isobel replied, turning her attention to Bridgette.
Bridgette inclined her head, then grinned. “I see being married to Graham has nae killed ye yet.”
“Nae yet,” Isobel replied, immediately thinking upon the intimacy of last night and today. Her cheeks heated with remembrance.
Marion, Bridgette, and Marsaili laughed at once, and then Marion came to her and took her hand. “By the look on yer face, I take it Graham has pleased ye.”
Isobel’s face grew so hot she wanted to fan herself. She had not grown up with girls with whom to confide in, so she had no notion beyond her few talks with Marsaili if it was customary to speak of such intimate things.
She glanced around the group of three women. “He was pleasing…until we talked.”
Marion and Bridgette immediately burst out laughing again and continued until there were tears streaming down their faces, while Marsaili frowned, having the same little experience with men that Isobel had.
Marion was the first to get her laughter under control. She swiped at her eyes and motioned for Isobel and the others to sit. Once they were all seated, Marion spoke. “I’m sorry to say that it is often the case that when men talk, they displease their wives.”
Bridgette nodded. “’Tis true. If Lachlan would simply learn I sometimes only want him to listen and nae try to solve all my problems, we would nae have half the arguments that we do.”
Isobel bit her lip. “That is nae exactly what I meant. I wish to learn about Graham’s past because I feel it holds the answer to why he will nae open his heart to me. But he closes up when I try to speak of anything personal.”
“I’m nae shocked,” Marion said.
“I’m nae, either,” Bridgette agreed.
Isobel wrung her hands. “He told me that he cared for me but never to ask him for more because he could nae… Nay, because hewouldnae—” she paused, trying to correctly recall his words “—give more.”
Marion and Bridgette shared a quick, knowing glance that piqued Isobel’s curiosity.
“Did Graham say any more?” Marion asked.
“Nae then,” Isobel responded, “but later he told me that whatever else was nae between us, there would always be passion. But then he said that he would control the passion.” A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard, her heart thudding heavily against her ribs. “I spent a lifetime lonely. I will nae spend the remainder of my life lonely but married,” she finished, startling at how very strongly she feared such a fate. “I think perchance it would kill me. Perchance I’d still go on breathing, but my heart would die while the rest of me longed for death.”
“But what could ye do?” Marsaili asked. “Ye are married to Graham now, whether he ever loves ye or nae.”
“She could flee him,” Marion said in a hushed voice, sweeping a sorrowful yet knowing look over the group.
Isobel had not even considered such a possibility. Instinctually it was abhorrent to her, but she could see by Marion’s face that she had more to say, so Isobel held her own words in.
Bridgette did not. “Marion!” she cried out. “How could ye counsel Isobel to flee Graham?”
Isobel held her breath, waiting to hear Marion’s answer.
“I’m not! Not now, anyway. Not ever, I pray. Not unless there was no possible hope of him giving his love to her. He is one of the best men I know,” Marion said, each word punctuated with the passion of her conviction. “Yet you know what is in his past, Bridgette. You know what he needs to overcome to let down the walls he has built around his heart.”
“Tell me,” Isobel demanded, not near ready to give up hope.
“I will,” Marion assured her. “Wewill,” she corrected, looking to Bridgette, who nodded. “But first let me explain why I would even propose such a thing to you. I saw what it did to my mother to be married to my father. He never loved her, and she was dead inside long before her soul left this earth. Her life was horrid.”
When Isobel sucked in a sharp breath, Marion gripped her by the hand. “My father was a cold, cruel man, and Graham is not, so there is a vast difference, but my mother longed for his love for many years, and when she finally gave up hope that he could ever be kind, ever love her, she died a little more day by day, minute by minute. I would not wish that fate on anyone. That is why I felt I had to mention it. I always believed that if my mother had fled she might have found happiness and still be alive.” Marion dabbed at the tears as they crept down her face, and Isobel swiped at the tears that had pooled in her own eyes.
“She could nae ever flee because she dunnae have anywhere to flee to,” Bridgette muttered.
Isobel suddenly thought of the Summer Walkers. They would take her in. Or perchance even her grandmother’s family would shelter her. “I do have somewhere I could go, but I’d rather have Graham’s heart.”
“So you shall!” Marion vowed. Bridgette and Marsaili nodded their agreement.
“Ye are a woman with an enormous heart, which is a verra good thing,” Bridgette added. “Graham’s heart was wounded severely as a lad, and he will need someone with a big heart to show him he’s worthy of love.”
Isobel frowned. “I’m certain he kens he’s worthy of love.”
