The Sweetest Revenge by Dawn Halliday

to anyone about it or use his newfound knowledge to bargain for his freedom.
    “You look a hundred miles away from here.”
    Isabelle’s body jerked, her mind jolted back into the present. Mr. Sutherland had come around the sofa and had lowered himself beside her.
    “Oh!” she exclaimed softly. She licked her dry lips, and glanced to where Lord Archer, Susan, and Anna were discussing acquaintances Isabelle didn’t know. “I am sorry.”
    “Don’t be sorry. It’s quite all right. My mind wanders, too.”
    She released a relieved breath and tried to smile at him, but her lips quivered.
    He leaned forward, a conspiratorial look on his face. “So, what were you thinking about, Miss Frasier?”
    “Oh…uh…” Her mind worked frantically, but it was so muddled, having this man near. “Knitting?” she said feebly, then winced.
    “Ah, I see. Are you considering knitting something in particular?”
    “No, not exactly.”
    He raised a quizzical brow.
    She wrung her hands in her lap, then caught herself doing it and forcibly stilled them. She gave Mr. Sutherland a rueful look. There was no way she could continue to pretend she’d been thinking about knitting when she’d actually been having obsessive thoughts about the earl trussed in the cellar. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice breathless with humiliation. “I am terrible at dissembling.”
    Mr. Sutherland leaned back against the seat cushion. “Ah, well, unfortunately, I am also an ineffective dissembler. It is a great weakness, is it not?”
    Isabelle laughed despite herself. She didn’t believe him for a second.
    He raised his eyebrows in mock offense. “You do not believe me, Miss Frasier? But it is the truth.” He raised an index finger to his eye. “I blink, you see, with my right eye, whenever I attempt to lie. My sister claims it’s a nervous reaction. It’s quite unconscious.”
    “Truly?”
    He nodded solemnly. “Yes, it is true. And now that you know my secret, I must always be completely honest with you.”
    The low timbre of his voice sent foreboding skittering along Isabelle’s spine. The words themselves were innocent enough, but the way he had said them—
    “Oh.” All coherent thoughts fled from her mind, leaving it hopelessly blank. She gazed down at her hands clasped in her lap.
    After a lengthy pause, Mr. Sutherland said, “Lady DeLinn mentioned you are lately of Scotland.”
    “Aye, that is true.” Isabelle bit her lower lip.
    He seemed to sense her reluctance to speak about Scotland and smoothly steered away from the topic. “Have you enjoyed your visit to London?”
    She glanced up at Anna, Susan, and Lord Archer, who were still deeply involved in their conversation. “I have been here since the spring. I do visit when I can—my great-aunt lives here.” Although Uncle Ewan rarely allowed her visits to England anymore. Of course, she couldn’t explain that to these people. “But I have found it especially pleasant this visit, ever since I became acquainted with Lady DeLinn and Miss Tomkins.”
    “I am pleased to hear it. Will you be returning to Scotland soon?”
    Before she could stop herself, she sighed deeply. “Aye. In less than a month, I’m afraid.”
    Mr. Sutherland stared at her with an expression she could not decipher. “You do not wish to return to Scotland?”
    She hesitated, then said carefully, “Scotland is my home.”
    There was far more tied to her feelings about Scotland than she could ever admit to anyone, especially this virtual stranger. Scotland was her homeland, and she was tied to it on an intrinsic level. Yet the place was so lonely to her now. It had never been the same to her after the summer she’d spent with Leo.
    He nodded. “I understand. I feel somewhat the same about London. Of course, I am frequently forced to leave, as I have an estate near Bath.”
    “Do you? I have never been to Bath, but I hear it is lovely.”
    “I would love to take you there,” he said.
    She felt