Page 26 of What a Highlander’s Got to Do

He couldn’t have been happier.

But then, after he’d dressed her and sent her on her way, he realized he’d forgotten to share the one thing he’d meant to tell her . . . before they made love.

Damn and blast.

He resolved that he would tell her tomorrow, for certain. And he would do so before he touched her, otherwise, once again, it would be too late.

Chapter Six

Isobel returned to the Willouby stables in something of a daze. Her body ached, but in the very best of ways, as Nick had said.

She was also floating on an emotional cloud, still wafting along on the bliss they had shared.

She’d had no idea making love could be like that, and she was very much looking forward to doing it again. In fact, she couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

If she thought he might still be there in the woods, she would have turned around and ridden back into his arms.

What a pity she did not do that.

Because as she turned the corner and set eyes on the Willouby mansion, the world closed in on her. She slowed her mount to a stop and stared, her mood suddenly as drenched as her hair.

There were five fully loaded coaches in the drive.

That could only mean one thing.

Her family had arrived.

It was time to go to London.

She could have wept.

Instead, she steeled her spine and rode through the rain into the stable yard, turned the stallion over to the groom, and headed into the house.

In addition to her parents and her four (thoroughly annoying) younger brothers, her aunts and uncles had come, too. She didn’t mind Uncle Lachlan—he’d always been one of her most stalwart supporters—but the rest of them were beyond annoying. Aunt Hannah and Uncle Alexander had brought along their four children, ranging from ten to three. With Uncle Lachlan and Aunt Lana’s two, that was a total of ten babies. Ten.

It was positively mind numbing.

She had the sense to sneak up the servants’ stairs to her room and change into dry clothes before she presented herself. Her family knew her well, but it wouldn’t do to horrify Lady Willouby.

“There she is,” Papa said warmly as she stepped into the parlor, where everyone was gathered. Everyone, that was, but the children. Isobel could hear them playing in the billiards room.

She rushed over to give her father a hug. “Papa.”

He kissed her on the cheek. “Ach, I’ve missed you, my wee darling,” he said with a smile.

While Mama also gave her a hug, she did not proffer a smile. “Your hair is wet,” she announced, though Isobel already knew.

“I was out riding.”

Mama didn’t ask, In the rain? in an outraged tone as some mothers might, because she knew Isobel and because, given a choice of that or a dull tea party, she would probably do the same.

Her aunts and uncles all stood to greet her as well. Aunt Lana and Uncle Lachlan, Aunt Hannah and Uncle Alexander.

“Did you have fun with Lord Willouby’s archery course?” the latter asked her. That was the reason she’d stayed with Lady Willouby. Lord Willouby, a good friend of Uncle Lachlan, had the foremost archery training course in England, which was lying fallow while he was in London.

That and her lack of desire to visit an ailing aunt—even one as entertaining as Aunt Esmeralda.

And the fact that she’d had her fill of traveling in a coach with a veritable herd of children.