The Highlanderâ??s Irish Bride

by Kelly, Vanessa

  “How very clumsy of him,” Gillian said, trying not to grin.

  “Words fail me, Your Grace,” said Henderson, looking cut to the soul.

  By now, Royal, Kade, and Jeannie were all laughing, and Kathleen was doing her best not to aggravate the situation by joining them.

  Grant simply crossed his arms and shook his head at his grandfather.

  “It’s nae my fault, ye ken,” Angus said, protesting the silent reprimand.

  The countess glared at him. “It’s entirely your fault. I take it Cook is in hysterics?” she asked Henderson.

  “Smelling salts have been applied, but to little effect.”

  At that, even Lord Arnprior couldn’t hold back laughter.

  His wife pointed a finger. “This is no laughing matter, Nicholas.”

  “Of course not, my love,” he said in a choked voice.

  “Grant is the only man in this house with any sense,” she said with disgust. “And the only one who will get any dinner, if I have my way. Come along, Henderson. We must do our best to restore order.”

  She paused at the door to scowl at Angus. “And you and I will be having a discussion about this particular incident, and about your very bad dogs in general.”

  Angus bristled. “Now, see here, lassie—“

  “I wouldn’t, Grandda,” Arnprior warned.

  With an indignant huff, the countess sailed out of the room, followed by her faithful retainer.

  “A lot of botheration over nothin’ if ye ask me,” Angus said with commendable nonchalance. “Now, how about a wee dram to hold us over?”

  “You’re ridiculous.” Grant clamped a hand on his grandfather’s shoulder and steered him to one of the needlepointed armchairs by the fireplace.

  “There’s nae need to manhandle me,” Angus protested. “It’s just a wee bit of fuss.”

  “I think they’re very nice dogs,” Jeannie said, crouching down to give the other two terriers a pet. “I wish I had one.”

  Angus beamed at her. “One of my girlies up at Kinglas will be whelpin’ a litter soon. Ye shall have yer pick, Miss Jeannie.”

  Hell and damnation.

  “That’s very kind, sir,” Kathleen hastily put, “but we’re not in the position to have a pet just now.”

  If Jeannie returned to London with a scruffy terrier in tow, Helen would be apoplectic.

  Her sister glared at her. “You always had a dog when you were growing up.”

  “Every bairn should have a dog, ye ken,” Angus unhelpfully added.

  Grant, who’d fetched his grandfather a whisky, shoved the glass into his hand. “I’m sure Miss Calvert has her reasons, Grandda. We should respect them.”

  The old man subsided with a mutter.

  Jeannie, unfortunately, did not. “I think you’re being very unfair, Kath. And mean.”

  Kathleen tried not to wince. “Dearest, perhaps we could talk about this later.”

  “Och, nae need to be embarrassed, lass,” Angus said. “We Kendricks yell it out all the time.”

  “Not a helpful observation, Grandda,” Arnprior sternly said.

  “Fah,” the old fellow trenchantly replied.

  “Fah,” Jeannie echoed, lifting a defiant chin.

  Grant cast a swift look at Kathleen before hunkering down next to Jeannie. He reached out and ruffled the head of one of the dogs, earning a slobbering lick.

  “The pups won’t be whelped for another few weeks,” he said to the girl. “And they won’t be able to leave their mother for several more weeks after that. In the meantime, I think my grandfather would be happy to lend you little Daisy here. She’s a very sweet dog, as you can see, and she can be your special companion while you’re staying with us.”

  Jeannie shyly returned his smile. “That . . . that would be splendid, as long as your grandfather doesn’t mind.”

  “Daisy would be happy for the attention,” Angus said.

  “Can she sleep in my bedroom?”

  Grant glanced over his shoulder at Kathleen and lifted a questioning eyebrow.

  “Please say yes, Kath,” Jeannie pleaded, blinking a few times.

  Kathleen’s heart throbbed with a small, sad ache. Despite her pampered upbringing, Jeannie’s life had not been easy under Helen’s thumb. All the things Kathleen had enjoyed as a child—riding horses through the countryside, climbing trees, larking about in the gardens—were freedoms her sister had never tasted. Sitting there on the floor, hugging one of the dogs in her lap, Jeannie looked more like a lonesome child than a blossoming girl on the cusp of womanhood.

  And in a flash, it occurred to Kathleen that she’d not fought hard enough for her stepsister, not nearly hard enough.

  “Of course, love,” she said. “And if you want to take home a dog, we can talk about that later, too.” She smiled. “Although I think we can guess how Mamma would react to that.”

  Jeannie’s pretty features lit up with joy. “Oh . . . oh, that’s wonderful, Kath. Thank you.” She stared earnestly up at Grant. “And thank you. I promise I’ll take very good care of Daisy.”

  “I have no doubt of that,” Grant said as he rose.

  For such a big man, he moved with true masculine grace, his long, muscled legs flexing as he stood.

  “You’re staring, pet,” Gillian murmured.

  Kathleen felt her skin flame as she tried to ignore her friend’s warning.

  “Thank you, sir,” she said to Grant.

  His gaze lingered for few moments on her face, probably taking note of her freckles. They always glowed like beacons when she blushed, much to her lasting frustration.

  “It was nothing,” he said before moving away to speak to Lord Arnprior.

  “I think he likes you,” Gillian said in an unfortunately loud stage whisper.

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Kathleen hissed.

  Gillian grinned, but refrained from further comment when Henderson returned to the room.

  “Dinner,” he said, “is finally served.”

  Chapter Six

  Kathleen fiddled with her empty teacup as the ladies waited for the gentlemen to rejoin them in the drawing room, only half listening to the conversation.

  Initially, she’d been pleased to be seated next to Grant at dinner. His kindness toward Jeannie had been touching, and had even made her feel a bit wobbly around the knees. Beneath that stoic exterior lurked a man of both perception and heart.

  As a dinner partner, however, Grant Kendrick had been a decided failure.

  Naturally, he’d been polite, tilting his head with a thoughtful frown whenever she’d asked him a series of what she thought were interesting questions. Unfortunately, all his replies had been succinct to the point of terse. By the time they’d reached the meat course—the fricassee of veal that had replaced the late, lamented joint of beef—Kathleen gave up trying to draw him out. If Gillian hadn’t taken pity on her to talk across the table, it would have been a silent march through the cheese and dessert course.

  When Lady Arnprior had finally risen from the table, Kathleen had breathed a sigh of relief. Grant had cut her a sharp glance before his expression again turned politely bland as he pulled back her chair. He’d then resumed his seat without a backward glance as she left the room.

  Why she should let that bother her was a mystery, since the man was obviously a dead bore. Then again, perhaps he found her boring, or simply a pest with her lighthearted questions about the city and his family. She now realized that sort of thing could very well irritate a man of such serious temperament.

  Perhaps a few cogent commentaries on Plato’s Republic would have done the trick.

  When Gillian tapped her on the arm, she almost dropped her teacup. Her friend nimbly snatched it away and put it on the table in front of the chaise.

  Kathleen crinkled her nose. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  “Victoria was asking if you’d like another cup of tea.” Gillian’s mouth curved into a sneaky grin. “But you were obviously thinking of s
omething else. Or someone else?”

  “Whatever it was, it’s not worth remembering,” she firmly replied. “Thank you, but no, Lady Arnprior. After that wonderful dinner, I don’t think I have room for anything else.”

  “Please call me Victoria, or Vicky,” said her ladyship. “After tonight’s disaster, it’s safe to say you’ve been initiated into the family.”

  “Your staff made a splendid recovery, though.”

  “Thanks to Henderson, really. He all but cooked the rest of the dinner himself.”

  Jeannie, again on the floor with the dogs, flashed a grin. “I thought it was quite lovely and the most fun I’ve had in years.”

  “You have to admit it was hilarious,” Gillian said. “Surely the look of stoically pained outrage on Henderson’s face was worth the upset, Vicky.”

  “You didn’t have to deal with my cook,” her cousin wryly replied.

  “Still, Jeannie’s right,” Kathleen said. “It was a lovely dinner.”

  Mostly.

  “I’m glad you both enjoyed it,” Victoria said. “It’s kind of you to overlook our little foibles.”

  “By that I suppose you mean Angus,” Gillian commented. “I already adore him. Next to him, I look positively ordinary.”

  Kathleen raised her eyebrows. “Ordinary? Is that even possible?”

  Gillian laughed. “You are definitely what Angus would call a cheeky lass. And speaking of possibilities, what were you and Grant discussing during dinner? Anything interesting?”

  Kathleen refused to respond to that obvious lure, instead frowning at her sister. “Sweetheart, Daisy has caught her paw in your lace trim. She might rip it.”

  Jeannie rolled her eyes but carefully removed the dog’s snagged paw.

  “If there’s any damage, my dresser will repair it,” Victoria said. “She’s had plenty of experience with just that sort of thing.”

  “How many dogs do you have?” Jeannie asked as she hoisted a drooling Daisy higher onto her lap.

  “Three here and seven at Castle Kinglas. Angus would cart all of them about with us if we let him. I fear both Henderson and my housekeeper would quit if they had to manage the whole lot.”

  Gillian reached down and ruffled Daisy’s fur. “They’re sweet, but I prefer a good mastiff. Now that is a dog you can count on to cover your back in a fight.”

  Jeannie perked up. “Have you been in lots of fights, Your Grace?”

  “Well, let’s see—”

  Kathleen discreetly elbowed Gillian.

  “These dogs are the descendants of the original terriers of Angus’s daughter,” Victoria smoothly interjected. “There have been many generations at Kinglas since then, with every dog equally silly. But Angus is devoted to them.”

  Jeannie dropped a kiss on Daisy’s head. “He’s so lucky to have them.”

  Again, Kathleen felt that cramp in her heart, as if she’d failed her sister all these years and not even known it.

  The men chose that moment to join them, dispersing about the room. Lord Arnprior went to the sideboard to pour drinks.

  “May I fetch something stronger for the ladies?” he asked.

  “I’ll have some of that excellent whisky I keep hearing about,” Gillian said.

  “And you, Miss Calvert?”

  “It’s Kathleen, please, since your wife has kindly informed me that I am now one of the family. And sherry is fine.”

  “Of course yer family, ye and yer sister both.” Angus retrieved a battered pipe from his pocket and winked at Jeannie. “Especially if yon lassie on the floor will fetch me a spill for my pipe.”

  Jeannie giggled and started to carefully remove the dogs from her lap.

  “You stay right there, Jeannie.” Kade quickly fetched a spill from a brass container by the fireplace.

  Jeannie gazed up at him with all the wonder of a young girl in the grip of her first crush. “Thank you.”

  “Uh-oh,” Gillian muttered.

  “If you don’t stop saying that, I will bash you,” Kathleen whispered back.

  “Kade,” said Grant, who’d taken a seat across from them. “Perhaps you could set up the card table for a round of whist. I heard the duchess remark that she’d like to play a hand.”

  “Right-o,” said the young man.

  Jeannie pulled a face at losing the object of her adoration, while Kathleen turned to direct a grateful smile at Grant. Unfortunately, he’d already stood and was going over to join Royal.

  “How did things go at the office today, Grant?” Royal asked.

  That prompted the men to launch into an animated discussion of problems with shipping supplies to the new whisky distillery at Lochnagar Manor. Grant came alive, his gestures growing more dramatic and his brogue more pronounced. His green gaze glittered with quick intelligence as he responded to questions and comments.

  His sudden passion rendered him even more attractive, even if it was only in the service of growing the family fortune. No wonder she’d bored him at dinner. She should have asked him about the latest accounting methods if she’d wished to attract his attention.

  Victoria shook her head with humorous exasperation. “The lads are always like that when they start on business. Not Kade, though. His great interest is music.”

  “He’s a very talented pianist, isn’t he?” Jeannie inquired. “I hope I get to hear him play.”

  “Since he practices at least five hours a day, you will certainly get the chance.”

  “He’s not the only talented musician in the family, I understand,” Kathleen said.

  Victoria waved a hand. “I’m an amateur. Kade is genuinely brilliant.”

  “Yes, but you were his music teacher,” Gillian said.

  “He quickly outshone me. In fact, he’s been asked by the king to play a series of concerts in London. Then he wishes to go to Italy for further study. Both Rome and Venice. Then, who knows?”

  Jeannie clasped her hands reverently to her chest. “That means he’ll be coming to London. I do hope I’ll be able to see him then.”

  “I certainly envy him a trip to Italy,” Kathleen put in. “I’ve always wanted to visit Rome.”

  Victoria pulled a slight grimace. “Such a nomadic life is not what we wish for him, but his talent is undeniable. It would be cruel to try to keep him from doing what he loves.”

  Kathleen could certainly understand that. “It’s wonderful that you don’t stand in his way. It’s . . . it’s very hard to be denied the chance to do what you love.”

  “And what do you love doing, Miss Calvert?” asked a deep voice from the side.

  Kathleen almost toppled from her seat. She’d not even noticed Grant rejoin them.

  Gillian hopped up from the chaise. “Grant, sit next to Kathleen. I wish to ask his lordship a question.”

  Argh.

  That her friend was playing matchmaker was now thoroughly confirmed. The fact that she and Grant were clearly unmatchable should be obvious to anyone.

  When he started to sit, Kathleen held up a hand. “Best not.”

  He blinked. “Why not?”

  “Your hair will clash with my dress.”

  When he stared at her with mild incredulity, Kathleen wanted to bite her tongue. The dratted man was truly scrambling her brain.

  Suddenly he unleashed a smile that had her staring at him like a ninny. He had an absolutely riveting smile.

  “As long as we’re not seen together in public, I believe we should be fine,” he said, taking a seat.

  “Not being seen together shouldn’t be a problem, I would think.”

  Good God.

  She’d done it again. Even Jeannie was looking appalled by her inane remarks.

  Grant simply continued to study her, as if she were some minor but annoying problem to be resolved.

  “What I meant,” she said, “is that you’re obviously very busy. We would just be gadding about town, which would of course be a waste of your time. Your very busy time,” she added after a fraught pause
.

  “It’s true that I am especially busy right now,” he politely replied.

  Kathleen decided she didn’t like his bland voice, where his brogue faded away. His brogue wasn’t boring.

  “Well, then, we’ll be sure not to pester you,” she brightly responded.

  “Och, that’s nonsense,” Angus piped up. “Grant will be happy to escort ye about town. It’s nae proper or safe for ladies to be wanderin’ aboot by themselves. Ye’ll nae be wantin’ to wander into the fleshpots, ye ken.”

  “Grandda, there really aren’t many fleshpots in Glasgow,” Kade said.

  “Even if there were, I need neither a chaperone nor protection,” Gillian interjected.

  “Yes, but the citizens of Glasgow might need protection from you,” Kathleen teased. “You’re positively dangerous under the right circumstances.”

  Victoria chuckled. “I’m sure those stories are quite blown out of proportion.”

  “Not according to my twin,” Grant said.

  Gillian aimed a finger at him. “That’s enough out of you, laddie boy.”

  “Angus is correct, however,” Victoria said. “You should have an escort when I can’t go about with you.”

  “I’m sure Grandda would be happy to do it,” Grant said.

  His grandfather waved his pipe, scattering ashes on his lap. “Aye, delighted, but I fancy the ladies would much rather have a braw lad like yerself.”

  “I wouldn’t wish to clash with Miss Calvert’s dress,” Grant said. “Besides, Kade is much better company than I am.”

  “That’s a low bar, since you lock yourself away in that dreary office all the time,” Kade said.

  “Says the lad who spends hours on his music.”

  Victoria held up a hand. “You both work too hard. It’s quite ridiculous.”

  “Agreed,” said Royal. “An outing with the ladies would do you both a world of good. Perhaps even two outings. Yes, I know,” he continued when Grant frowned at him. “Fresh air, and during daylight hours. How shocking a concept.”

  “Ye may recall I’m a wee bit busy right now, thanks to ye,” Grant tartly replied.

  The lovely brogue was back, and stronger than ever. No doubt it had surfaced because he was annoyed at the prospect of spending time with her.