Isla took in her reflection for the first time since her brother had ushered her out of the house earlier that evening. Her hair looked silken like Marie’s had as it cascaded down the couch that night just a week ago. She raised her gloved fingertips to a few curls that had fallen onto her bare shoulders. She felt her heart sink when she met her own eyes in the mirror, she saw a deep sadness in them. For the first time, she could see the woman her mother had envisioned for her. Her memories flooded with the image of her mother brushing her long hair as a child in the mirror of her vanity and her heart ached with longing. She’d never felt comfortable appearing feminine, and perhaps it was this deep sense of loss that she’d been avoiding. Whom was she trying to fool?

She suddenly felt mortified, as if the truth of who she was had made its way through the entire room and she was standing naked for them all to gawk at. She began to rip the satin gloves from her hands. She had to get out of there. She looked in both directions of the long hallway, one led back out to the grand room and the other seemed to turn a corner. Perhaps she could find an exit that way.

She started down the hall, stepping lightly, though she knew nobody would be looking for her. She had just turned the corner when suddenly she felt a presence behind her. She inhaled sharply and picked up her speed while trying to demonstrate a sense of authority. The steps grew quicker behind her as well, faster than hers. She had made up her mind to confront them when she felt a hand grab at her wrist, and she was jerked to a halt. Her body was up against the wall and the foreign hand now had her wrist tightly pinned at her side. She did not scream but her eyes had shut involuntarily with the abrupt motion. Her chest heaved deeply as she was accosted by the familiar pungency of her brother’s villainous accomplice. Her eyes shot open.

“I know. You hate to be followed,” William said with an air of pure amusement. He dropped her hand.

“You seem to be making a habit of it,” she retorted. She grabbed at her wrist and massaged where he had just let go.  He was still close enough to her that she could feel his breath and she looked into his eyes. They were a deep gray that seemed to churn like dark clouds just before a storm. He held her gaze and for a minute she lost track of the floor beneath her.

“Leaving so soon, Miss Chisholm?” He took a step back and she felt the wall give underneath her slightly.

“Just looking for some air.”

“Ah…” His eyes traveled the length of her body and she shifted slightly. “I suppose you’re not used to this level of suffocation given what you normally wear.”

She grunted and turned to walk away but he stepped in front of her quickly.

“Isla,” his tone was gentler now, “may we speak somewhere … privately?”

She looked up at him in shock. Why was he addressing her so casually? This man had been nothing but a nuisance since she arrived here. She took in the empty hallway surrounding them. “We are alone.”

“Ah, yes.” He stepped forward again, trapping her against the wall once more. Her hands pressed on the coolness of the plaster and she lifted her chin in defiance. He placed his hand on the wall above her shoulder and leaned in playfully. “I believe I might have a proposition that would benefit both of us.”

“Oh?” She could see the storm blackening in his eyes.

“Marry me,” he said as nonchalantly as if he had just offered her a cup of coffee. She began to laugh heartily and ducked under his arm to free herself of this situation. She would rather be back in that room than be his plaything any longer.

“I should find my brother.”

“Isla, I’m serious. Marry me.”

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, her back still to him.

“I know that I am older than you and not as spry perhaps as some of those men out there, but I can guarantee you I am much better company than those fools. Plus, I have more money than all of them combined.”

She turned to him again. He was serious. “Why?” Her mind couldn’t comprehend what sort of game he was playing anymore. Did he covet her ranch that badly? If so, he could just purchase it. She pressed, “What’s in it for you?”

He leaned against the wall again and took a cigar out of his coat pocket. The exquisite tailoring of his suit accentuated his lengthy stature and she concluded that he was more attractive than any man in that room. Objectively speaking, of course. The men that had stammered over each other for her consideration had boyish faces and seemed deprived of intimacy. This man was worldly and unyielding, which intrigued her immensely. She stepped forward curiously.  

“What would marrying me bring you?”

“Your pitiful brother has been avoiding the courtship of my company for some time now and I believe in marrying you I could easily close the deal. He’s been hesitant to accept my offer because he seems to believe he’s a strong enough businessman to court my competitors in Chicago. A laughable notion, of course, but I have grown tiresome of his stalling tactics. Before you burst in yesterday, I was prepared to call it quits entirely. You seem to have reignited my competitive spirit, Isla.” The corners of his mouth twisted up coyly at her.

She studied him again. They could both agree on one thing at least—her brother was pitiful. She moved closer to him again and pressed on seductively, “And what would it bring me, Mr. Caldwell?”