The Soldier's Rebel Lover

‘Do you? Aye, I can see that you might, though it’s not the same.’

The empathy she was feeling trickled away. ‘Why not? Why is it not the same? Because I am a...’

‘For the love of— It has nothing to do with your being a woman, if that’s what you were about to say. What a chip on your shoulder you have,’ Finlay exclaimed. ‘It is not the same because I have spent my entire adult life in the army. I know nothing else, whereas you had a life before, and a life to come back to. The war here has been over two years. You must be accustomed to peacetime life by now.’

She clenched her fists and was about to retort angrily, when the incongruity of his remark struck her. ‘Your entire adult life has been in the military? You told me you left the army when Napoleon was sent to Elba, which was nearly two years ago, and since then you have been assiduously building up your wine business.’

Finlay waved his hand dismissively. ‘What I meant is that the army has dominated my life so much that it feels as if I have always been a soldier. And speaking of my new career,’ he said, looking at his watch, ‘it is high time we were getting back to change for dinner. It wouldn’t enhance my negotiating position with your brother if I were to insult him by having the bad manners to keep his wife waiting.’

* * *

In his room, taking a quick bath before dinner, Finlay cursed himself for a fool. What an eejit he’d been, to get caught out so easily. Luckily it had not been too costly a faux pas but he would have to be much more careful in future.

‘Aye, for example, please refrain from mentioning over dinner that you fought at Waterloo a matter of months ago, Finlay, there’s a good chap!’

The fair Isabella was as sharp as a tack, and he had once again allowed himself to be sidetracked by those big eyes of hers, and those luscious lips. He poured another jug of hot water over his head. He wasn’t doing her justice. Her kisses were delightful, sure enough, but it was her, Isabella herself, who intrigued him. She was an enigmatic mixture, and a fascinating creature. ‘And a gie clever one, you’d do well to remember, Finlay Urquhart.’

He’d recovered the situation, but only temporarily. Her suspicions had been aroused, which meant he had to be a step ahead of her by the morning.

He’d think of something. He always did. In the meantime, there were other, more delightful things to think of. Such as the fact that Isabella’s chamber was only a few doors down the corridor. Most likely she was taking a bath, too. Her hair would be all damp curls, clinging to her back. Her face would be flushed from the heat of the water. She’d be lying back as he was, her eyes closed, as his were. The water would be lapping at her breasts. There would be tantalising glimpses of her nipples through the suds. Her soapy body would be slippery to the touch, and when the bubbles burst as the water cooled, so much more would be revealed...

Chapter Five

Consuela placed the letter she had received on the breakfast table and poured herself a cup of chocolate. ‘It is a brief note from Xavier. Unfortunately he will be detained in Pamplona for a further few days. Isabella, he asks that you ensure Mr Urquhart is given a comprehensive tour of all aspects of the work of the estate. To that end, you are to take him to visit Estebe, the head winemaker, and—but here, you may as well read it for yourself.’ Consuela pushed the letter across the table.

Isabella took the letter, raising her brows at the list of tasks her brother had compiled for her. Necessity and greed had forced Xavier into trusting her with an important task. Though not enough to actually write to her himself.

‘Mr Urquhart is tardy this morning,’ Consuela said, eyeing the clock.

Isabella, who had been anxiously thinking the same thing, began to rearrange the bread on her plate. ‘You like our foreign guest, don’t you?’

Consuela bristled slightly. ‘I hope you are not implying that my behaviour has been improper in any way?’

‘Not at all. Only that he is very handsome and extremely charming. All women like him, I think. Even I do.’ Though I am fairly certain he is a fraud and not who he purports to be. The butterflies in her tummy started beating their wings again. She wished that there was another conclusion, but once again decided there was not.

‘Isabella, you know that it would not be appropriate, or wise, to grow to like this man too much? He is charming, but he is a wine merchant. You think I am empty-headed. I know you do, because you never discuss anything of any import with me save my son, and...’

‘Consuela, I...’

‘No, let me speak for once. You think that because I say nothing I don’t see what’s happening under my nose, but I do. The way you look at Mr Urquhart... You have never looked at Gabriel like that.’

‘Gabriel has never looked at me the way Mr Urquhart does.’