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As my new hubby ushered me toward the next group, his fake smile vanished. He glanced at me once. Twice. A third time. Finally he deflated a little. “I think I preferred the accusations to the silence. Say something.”
“I’m probably closer to screaming than speaking.” I reached for my coin for the thousandth time. Still gone. Sighing, I hugged myself. “I won’t cause you problems anymore,” I told him softly, and I meant it. This sham of a marriage wasn’t his fault. He’d clearly been duped. And, until I found a way to reverse Isobel’s meddling, I kind of needed him as a safeguard against any other rules I might inadvertently break. Plus, I knew no one else in the area and had nowhere to stay but his castle.
“What changed?” He released me to claim two champagne flutes from a passing tray. One he drained. The other he passed to—nope, he drained it too. After replacing the empty glasses, he delivered a drink to me.
“Can we discuss this when we’re not surrounded by prying ears?” Or never. Yeah, never sounded better. I consumed my beverage. Mmm. Good. I snagged another glass at the first opportunity. Down the hatch. I rarely imbibed, but my new body craved more. And more.
“Very well,” Callen agreed. “Come. There are only a fewmore council members we must greet. Then we’ll go home and talk.”
Ugh. What I didn’twant to do? Spend more time trapped inside the small confines of a vehicle seated next to this grump of a man.
Without warning, the champagne hit, and hit with a vengeance. My head spun. Oops. We’d been so busy chatting with guests, I hadn’t noticed any of the waitstaff near me. Maybe I should go to them.
I searched for someone, anyone with a tray.
A server approached a group to my left, saying, “Smoked salmon with crème fraiche on a tattie scone?”
Oh, yes, please and thank you. Nearly drooling, I broke from Callen’s side to snag one. At the first bite, I moaned. Dang, that was delicious. Need another! But the server had already moved on.
Pouting, I headed back to—hey! Where was Callen? No sign of him in any direction. No sign of the bodyguards either. Their fault, not mine. On the hunt for more smoked salmon, I acquired and drained two more glasses of champagne, the body fully in charge. Bonus: My tornado of impending doom downgraded to a soft rain shower. Despite everything, I was safe, and no longer steeped in confusion about the situation. Err, not asmuchconfusion. Armed with truth, I had hope.
All I had to do was pretend to be Isobel until I figured out everything else. Which I couldn’t do right now. At this point I had only one choice: enjoy myself. I mean, wouldn’t Isobel? I must do whatever it took to keep up appearances. Thankfully, I knew how to kick off my newfound outlook. More of those tattie scones. But where was the waitress?
There. She stood with two thirty-something women,waiting for the pair to decide which morsel to select. I hurried over.
“—her? Really?” one of the women was saying. “I can’t believe Callen actually did it.”
“I know,” the other replied. “Tae be stuck with Isobel Campbell.”
My ears twitched, and I hesitated to reach out.
“Can ye imagine? After what she did tae Roderick. Poor Callen.”
“So heartless. And ruthless! Now, she dares tae follow the barefoot bond tradition. As if she’ll ever be one of us.”
Oooh. What did Isobel do to Roderick? And barefoot bond? The mysterious custom my new “husband” alluded to earlier?
“I feel sorriest for Mirren,” the first speaker said and tsked.
Mirren?
“That poor darling. Isobel is a monster through and through. Mirren stands no chance. Her future is all but destroyed.”
Well, they weren’t wrong about the monster part.
They went quiet as they stuffed their faces, the server ready to head off once again.
“Wait!” I shouted, reaching between the conversers to grab a treat. Okay, three—five treats.
Both women glanced at me over their shoulders and performed a double take. When my identity clicked, they jumped, their eyes going wide with horror.
“I’m so sorry?—”
“Didn’t mean?—”
“Was just about?—”
“Allow me tae rephrase?—”
