Their conversation came to an abrupt halt as Isabelle returned carrying Greylen’s robe. Gwen noticed it in the bathroom yesterday and was happy that Isabelle had chosen it for her now. She slipped it on and stopped herself just before she brought the material to her face. She was about to inhale his scent. Grateful she’d saved herself in time, she covered her heated face by tying the belt around her waist. She waved her hand at the slippers Isabelle held out. “I’ll go barefoot,” she insisted.

Isabelle looked to Gavin. “Gwendolyn mustn’t go barefoot throughout the keep, ’tis highly improper.”

Gavin threw his hands in the air. “She wears Greylen’s shirt and covered herself in his robe. Whatever,” he replied, apparently happy to throw the term back at Gwen.

Isabelle took Gwen’s hand and led her downstairs. They turned and walked past the archway that opened to the great hall. Narrow tables were situated along the hallway walls and sconces flickered, casting a soft glow. Isabelle stopped at the first set of doors they came to. Gavin leaned against the far side of the doorframe, facing Gwen as Isabelle turned to her. “This is my brother’s private study, Gwendolyn. The war room, as I call it.”

Isabelle’s eyes lit up as she said it, and Gwen grabbed her cheeks to kiss her. “You’re delightful, Isabelle.” Gwen noticed that Gavin smiled at her words. Obviously, Mr. Mixed Signals agreed.

“Come, let’s go inside.” Isabelle pushed the doors, but they wouldn’t budge. “Gavin?” Isabelle placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently.

He smiled and reached into his pocket removing a key. “Allow me, ladies.” He unlocked the doors and pushed them aside. “Wait a moment while I light the wicks.”

Gwen stood in the doorway as Gavin brought the room to life. Her chest tightened as each lamp was lit, her heart pounding as she stared at a room that had to be the perfect reflection of Greylen. She could picture him working within. Worse, she could imagine herself sitting inside while he did.

Gavin finished and stood to the side, but Gwen seemed rooted to the floor. Isabelle finally grabbed her hand and pulled her in.

From where she stood inside the doorway, a large mahogany desk sat directly in front of her. A high-back leather chair behind it, and two in front. Behind the desk were polished wood shelves filled with leather-bound books and window seats built within each side.