“I’ll have it ready for you tomorrow.” Boyd patted Lachlan’s upper arm. “Once you agree, I’ll oversee whatever work needs doing. There’s no need for you to wallow around here when you’d rather be enjoying the delights of the city.” Boyd gave him a knowing wink. “I hear there is much to keep you entertained there of late.”
Lachlan smiled though he would not describe the drunken hours spent in various ladies beds as entertaining. It was simply a case of survival. “The women are amusing enough when you’re not choking on their powders and perfumes.”
“But you prefer them a little wilder,” Boyd chuckled, “a little more unrefined.”
His mind concocted a vision of Isla lying sprawled amongst the heather. Her hair splayed like a golden fan against the pretty purple sprigs. “The wild ones prove to be too unpredictable. I’ve come to believe no woman can be trusted.”
“Aye, I’ll second that,” Boyd said, well aware of his history with Isla Maclean. “I assume you’ve been to Castle Craig tonight. I know it’s not my place to say, but no good will come of dwelling on the past.”
“I had need to speak with Douglas.” And he had wanted to look into Isla’s eyes once more, to see if the evidence of her duplicity lingered there, to see if his affection had once blinded him to her deceit.
“Whatever you say.” Boyd shrugged. The man knew him well enough to know that was not entirely the truth. “But take my advice. There’s no future for you at Castle Craig. Go back to Edinburgh and find yourself a woman to marry. Find a woman whose head is not filled with nonsense. And avoid the pretty ones as they bring naught but trouble.”
Lachlan nodded purely to placate the man. “Perhaps you’re right. But I’ll stay until I’m confident there are enough funds available to see all the work undertaken.”
Boyd glanced to the floor. “I can’t help but feel responsible. I should have written to you. I should have informed you as to the state of things sooner. But your father’s mind is often preoccupied with other things. He lacks all interest in business matters.”
Lachlan grabbed Boyd’s shoulder firmly. “You already do the job of three men. My father’s lucky to have someone loyal at his side.” He nodded to the study door. “I’ll go and check on him and then, if you’ve nothing else to do, perhaps we should venture down to the alehouse.”
He wanted to hear more about the strange habits of the mistress of Castle Craig. And a few drinks would help to banish all amorous thoughts of Isla Maclean.
Boyd gave a disappointed sigh. “I’ve still got work to do. If my eyes can stand the strain, that is. But I have a full jug a whisky on my desk.” He tapped his finger on the side of his nose. “It’s distilled in a secret location not too far from here. We could share a glass or three while we discuss the repairs.”
“You certainly know how to tempt a man,” Lachlan said with a grin. “I assume it’s as potent as the last bottle we shared.”
A few glasses of whisky would surely guarantee a peaceful night’s sleep. Tomorrow he would call at Castle Craig with the sole intention of offering to rent the mine. Boyd would think him a fool. He was under no obligation to offer assistance. Indeed, he was still not sure why he felt a deep-rooted need to help. Perhaps Isla might be more hospitable next time. Either way, he would keep his promise to Douglas. A month providing financial assistance would significantly ease their burden. After that, he would concentrate his efforts on finding a wife: a timid raven-haired woman who would welcome his affections with open arms and who lacked the capacity to lie.
Chapter 3
Isla sat next to the fire in the Great Hall, staring at the dancing orange flames.
Douglas was right. With funds running low, there were few options left open. If Lachlan was willing to rent the mine, then she would just have to swallow her pride and let him. Nikolai had told her never to allow anyone access to the tunnel. No one must enter the mine. If he returned, surely he would understand that their dire circumstances were reason enough to go against his wishes.
Hearing voices echoing beyond the door, she checked the mantle clock and noted it was almost eight. Lachlan was never late. When Lachlan made a promise, he kept it.
Isla inhaled deeply. To spend an hour alone in his company would be as torturous as being strapped to the rack for a week. To hear him speak fondly of his time in E
dinburgh would be as painful as a spear piercing her heart.
She heard the oak door creak open, heard Douglas’ muttered words. But she did not look up until the clip of booted footsteps echoed through the room.
“Miss Maclean.” Lachlan’s rich drawl caused her stomach to perform a range of flips and somersaults.
“There’s no need for formalities, Lachlan.” She gripped the arms of the chair and came to her feet, daring to meet his gaze. “We’ve been friends all our lives after all.” Trying to disguise her trembling fingers, she waved at the chair opposite. “Won’t you sit?”
Offering a curt nod, he waited for her to take a seat before dropping into the chair with languid grace. As she suspected, his long muscular legs made the space between them feel much smaller, more intimate. Perhaps she should be grateful he’d not worn a kilt. The sight of his sinewy limbs would be her undoing.
“I’m told I owe you an apology.” Despite her best effort, she could not help but convey an air of hauteur in her tone.
His bright blue eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “You owe me an apology only if you feel you should give one.”
Her traitorous gaze dropped to the full lips responsible for forming the words. She remembered how soft they were; she remembered the earthy aroma of his skin. “I-I behaved like a hoyden last night.” She shook her head and blinked away the memory of his breath breezing across her cheek. “I goaded you, prodded and poked until you had no choice but to retaliate. All the strange talk in the village had set me on edge. But that is no excuse to be rude to a friend I have not seen for three years.”
The corners of his mouth curled up into a sinful smile. Sweet Jesus. No wonder the ladies in Edinburgh fawned over him.
“Then I accept your apology.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the air, forcing her to speak. “So, I hear you’ve not come home to stay.” Douglas had told her of his plans to return to Edinburgh, of his desire to marry. “Perhaps there are too many temptations drawing you back to the city.”