into ecstasy.
Having Isobel in his arms, in his bed, was bliss. There could be no more doubt. She had been innocent. And untouched. Now she was his. Completely. He dropped a kiss on her hair, but did nothing more. He did not want to wake her. Soon they would have to plan what to do, how to return her to her uncle’s house without detection. None of it would be easy. For now, let her sleep.
A loud banging on the front door made him start up. It was long after midnight. Who on earth could that be, making such an infernal din?
‘Oh, heavens. My uncle!’ She was instantly wide awake.
‘What? How do you know?’ Had she planned this? Was it a trap?
‘I…I don’t. But who else could it be at this time of night? That man, my uncle’s spy, he must have followed me after all.’ She put her hands to her flaming cheeks. Her eyes were wide and staring, proving she was just as shocked as he was. She gave a strangled laugh. To Robert’s ears, she sounded almost hysterical. ‘When my uncle finds me here, he will have no option but to agree to our marriage.’
‘More like to shoot us both,’ he said brutally. She gasped in horror. Faced with stark reality, she was terrified. He knew he had been wrong to doubt her. He tilted up her face so she was forced to look at him. He tried to smile reassuringly. ‘Isobel, you are a darling girl, but you would be the death of both of us. You must not be found here. Not like this.’
‘But I—’
He silenced her with a finger across her lips. No time for argument. She was his now. He must save her. ‘Do you trust me enough to do exactly as I say?’
She nodded, wide-eyed.
‘Help me collect up your things. Quickly.’ He scooped up her discarded clothes and pushed them into her arms. Then he wrapped his silk dressing gown round her naked body. Grabbing the champagne bottle and glasses, he hurried her into his sitting room. He pressed the spring to open the hidden door and bundled her through, followed by the wine and her outdoor clothes. ‘Stay there. Don’t move or make a sound until I come to release you. It may take me some time to convince your uncle.’ He dropped a quick hard kiss on her mouth and pushed her down to sit on his army trunk. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Daren’t risk a candle.’ With that, he closed the door on her, leaving her alone in the dark. She had courage. She would not cry out.
He could hear Grant’s loudly muttered complaints as he walked slowly to the door. The servant did not need to be told what to do. He would make a great fuss and delay Sir Hugh as long as possible.
Robert raced back into his bedchamber. He had no dressing gown, of course. He ripped open the clothes press and quickly threw a fresh nightshirt over his head. Then he set about putting the bed to rights. In moments, it was done. It looked as though only one side had been used.
Robert’s clothes still littered the floor. No time to retrieve them. Let it look as if an idle gentleman had simply dropped his clothing for his valet to pick up. Sir Hugh would not be surprised.
Robert stuck his feet into his slippers, picked up the lighted candle from the nightstand and marched out into the hallway. ‘What the hell is going on?’ he thundered.
The door was open. An elderly gentleman stood on the threshold, flanked by a thick-set man with the face of a prizefighter.
‘Grant, inform this gentleman that I am not at home to visitors.’
The batman had barely opened his mouth to obey when the visitor pushed him aside and stepped into the hallway. He was almost purple with rage. ‘I am Sir Hugh Carmichael. Isobel Ritchie is my niece. I know you have her here, Anstruther. To debauch her, no doubt. Exactly the kind of behaviour I would expect from one of your ilk. I demand that you produce her. At once!’
‘You are mistaken, sir,’ Robert answered quietly. He had not moved. He still stood blocking Sir Hugh’s path to the inner rooms.
‘You defy me, sir?’ Sir Hugh produced
Having Isobel in his arms, in his bed, was bliss. There could be no more doubt. She had been innocent. And untouched. Now she was his. Completely. He dropped a kiss on her hair, but did nothing more. He did not want to wake her. Soon they would have to plan what to do, how to return her to her uncle’s house without detection. None of it would be easy. For now, let her sleep.
A loud banging on the front door made him start up. It was long after midnight. Who on earth could that be, making such an infernal din?
‘Oh, heavens. My uncle!’ She was instantly wide awake.
‘What? How do you know?’ Had she planned this? Was it a trap?
‘I…I don’t. But who else could it be at this time of night? That man, my uncle’s spy, he must have followed me after all.’ She put her hands to her flaming cheeks. Her eyes were wide and staring, proving she was just as shocked as he was. She gave a strangled laugh. To Robert’s ears, she sounded almost hysterical. ‘When my uncle finds me here, he will have no option but to agree to our marriage.’
‘More like to shoot us both,’ he said brutally. She gasped in horror. Faced with stark reality, she was terrified. He knew he had been wrong to doubt her. He tilted up her face so she was forced to look at him. He tried to smile reassuringly. ‘Isobel, you are a darling girl, but you would be the death of both of us. You must not be found here. Not like this.’
‘But I—’
He silenced her with a finger across her lips. No time for argument. She was his now. He must save her. ‘Do you trust me enough to do exactly as I say?’
She nodded, wide-eyed.
‘Help me collect up your things. Quickly.’ He scooped up her discarded clothes and pushed them into her arms. Then he wrapped his silk dressing gown round her naked body. Grabbing the champagne bottle and glasses, he hurried her into his sitting room. He pressed the spring to open the hidden door and bundled her through, followed by the wine and her outdoor clothes. ‘Stay there. Don’t move or make a sound until I come to release you. It may take me some time to convince your uncle.’ He dropped a quick hard kiss on her mouth and pushed her down to sit on his army trunk. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Daren’t risk a candle.’ With that, he closed the door on her, leaving her alone in the dark. She had courage. She would not cry out.
He could hear Grant’s loudly muttered complaints as he walked slowly to the door. The servant did not need to be told what to do. He would make a great fuss and delay Sir Hugh as long as possible.
Robert raced back into his bedchamber. He had no dressing gown, of course. He ripped open the clothes press and quickly threw a fresh nightshirt over his head. Then he set about putting the bed to rights. In moments, it was done. It looked as though only one side had been used.
Robert’s clothes still littered the floor. No time to retrieve them. Let it look as if an idle gentleman had simply dropped his clothing for his valet to pick up. Sir Hugh would not be surprised.
Robert stuck his feet into his slippers, picked up the lighted candle from the nightstand and marched out into the hallway. ‘What the hell is going on?’ he thundered.
The door was open. An elderly gentleman stood on the threshold, flanked by a thick-set man with the face of a prizefighter.
‘Grant, inform this gentleman that I am not at home to visitors.’
The batman had barely opened his mouth to obey when the visitor pushed him aside and stepped into the hallway. He was almost purple with rage. ‘I am Sir Hugh Carmichael. Isobel Ritchie is my niece. I know you have her here, Anstruther. To debauch her, no doubt. Exactly the kind of behaviour I would expect from one of your ilk. I demand that you produce her. At once!’
‘You are mistaken, sir,’ Robert answered quietly. He had not moved. He still stood blocking Sir Hugh’s path to the inner rooms.
‘You defy me, sir?’ Sir Hugh produced
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