Kathleen had to admit she liked the sound of that. “Goodness, how terribly awkward.”
“Especially for me, once Graeme removed his twin from the scene,” Sabrina replied. “I had to explain to David why Grant was acting so rudely.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That the fumes from the distillery were giving our poor Grant the headache.”
Kathleen burst into laughter. “And David believed you?”
“He was highly sympathetic, and took the opportunity to lecture me once more on the evils of strong drink.”
Kathleen scrunched her nose. “Poor you.”
“At least we prevented Grant from pitching my vicar out the window.” Sabrina held up a finger. “Which brings me back to my point. You’ve grown very fond of Grant, no matter how much you might deny it.”
Kathleen returned her gaze to the field. Captain Brown was now up, the only remaining contestant besides Grant. So far, they’d been fairly evenly matched, although the captain seemed to possess a slight edge. Another reason to dislike the man.
Sabrina nudged her. “You are, aren’t you?”
Kathleen blew out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, probably more than I should.”
That almost-kiss in the vicar’s garden, which she couldn’t help wishing had been a real kiss, was proof of that.
Sabrina frowned. “But you and he would make a splendid pair, and there are certainly no impediments to marriage. Grant could easily support you. The man practically prints money.”
“I have plenty of money, Sabrina.”
“Of course. I just meant that your parents couldn’t raise any objections on that score. Grant comes from one of the best families in Scotland, too.”
Kathleen waved her arms. “We have absolutely nothing in common. He’s a boring old businessman who wants to spend the rest of his life in Glasgow—”
“He’s not boring—”
“And I want to be in Ireland, where I can live as I choose, without lectures from him on how to behave.”
“Grant would never do that.”
Kathleen cast her an incredulous look. “He tells me what to do all the time.”
“That’s only because he’s worried about your safety right now. Graeme does the same to me.”
“And how do you respond to all that ordering about?”
“When he makes sense, I follow it. When he doesn’t, I ignore it.”
“As I have every intention of ignoring Grant ... Mr. Kendrick from now on.”
Sabrina looked skeptical. “Then you’ll be wearing David’s corsage to the ball tonight?”
“Good God, no. Jeannie would pitch a fit.” She glanced around. “Where is that scamp, by the way?”
“She’s helping Graeme with the cricket game for the older children.”
Kathleen exhaled a relieved breath. “Thank goodness she’s not trailing after David.”
“So, what are you going to do with David’s corsage?”
“I gave it to Hannah.” Kathleen pointed to the large tent, where Hannah was helping to set out the al fresco supper. “She’s already wearing it.”
Sabrina chuckled. “Poor David.”
“Poor me. I have to keep fending him off.”
“I could think of one way to solve that problem. Or one person.”
“Relentless, that’s what you are,” Kathleen wryly said.
“Very well, dearest. Discussion concluded.”
“Thank you.”
Kathleen took in the lively crowd of villagers, strolling the grounds or participating in the games. Even the ancients from the village had their own special tent, where they could play whist and smoke their pipes undisturbed.
“You’ve done a wonderful job, old girl,” she said. “No one knows how to throw a party like Sabrina Kendrick.”
“It was your idea, Kathleen. It was an excellent one, and so necessary after recent events. We practically had revolt on our hands after the vandalism in our storerooms. I’m afraid that having an incident on the grounds of Lochnagar itself was very upsetting for the villagers. Some think it suggests that we cannot protect them.”
Kathleen grimaced. “I tried to stop Jeannie from blurting it out in the middle of the pub, but I underestimated her lack of discretion.”
“From what Grant told me, Captain Brown was more than happy to encourage her.”
“It practically started a melee. I do believe the captain is something of a troublemaker.”
“Graeme thinks he’s playing on people’s anxieties in the hope of persuading them to sign up for his land scheme.”
Kathleen shot her a frown. “That’s seems rather desperate of him. And silly, if you ask me.”
“Still, it’s a bother, and it’s useless to deny that most of the locals are perturbed about the break-ins and thefts. Thank goodness Nick sent reinforcements from Glasgow.”
At Graeme’s hastily written request, Lord Arnprior had dispatched two footmen and a groom from Kendrick House to assist in patrolling the estate and the village.
“And fortunately they arrived in time to help with the fete,” Kathleen said. “Fingers crossed it does the trick and gives the villagers a welcome respite from their worries.”
In order to ensure that all could enjoy the festivities, Graeme had organized a watch over the village for the entire day, overseen by Mr. Chattan. With houses and cottages locked up tight, and guards posted throughout Dunlaggan, the locals were able to take a much-needed break and carouse to their hearts’ content, care of Sir Graeme and Lady Kendrick.
The bustling preparations had yielded another benefit, that of keeping Jeannie busy and away from the vicar.
In fact, everyone at Lochnagar had been working from dawn until well after dusk, including Grant. In his case, however, he was busy hunting villains. When he returned home in the evening, he usually disappeared into the study with Graeme and Angus.
Kathleen had barely seen him, and the fact that she found that annoying was ... well, annoying.
Sabrina linked arms with her. “I see the archery match is winding up. I’m still rooting for our Grant. If he loses to Captain Brown, I’ll be most disappointed.”
“And I’ll be out a bob.”
“Ah, so you did bet on Grant.”
“Yes, and if you tell anyone, I’ll have to murder you.”
“But I have to tell Graeme,” Sabrina replied in an innocent tone. “I never keep secrets from him.”
Kathleen cast her a jaundiced look. “Do you prefer poisoning, or shall I simply push you off a nearby cliff?”
Her cousin laughed.
They crunched across the gravel drive toward the small crowd watching the archers. Kathleen repressed a sigh when she saw that Jeannie had abandoned cricket in favor of sidling up to the vicar. Her sister was talking a mile a minute as she gazed adoringly up at David. As usual, he regarded her with a slightly befuddled but kind smile.
Kathleen found it mind-boggling that he somehow could not see the obvious problem. It was soon coming to the point where she’d flat out have to tell him. And wouldn’t that be a jolly conversation, especially if it prompted the vicar into making an amorous declaration of his own.
Grant’s last arrow thudded into the bull’s-eye, off center by an inch or so. Still, it was an excellent shot and the onlookers cheered with enthusiasm. It wasn’t surprising that he was the favorite. Grant carried himself with a quiet confidence that naturally generated respect, and he treated everyone with equal courtesy.
He was more than a brawny, handsome Highlander. More than a successful businessman. Grant Kendrick was a good man, down to the depths of his bones. No wonder she found herself falling in love with him.
Kathleen’s brain stuttered on that thought and a roaring filled her ears. She had to shake her head to ease the startling clamor and refocus her scattered wits.
“Good shot, old man,” Captain Brown said with phony bonhomie. “You’ve left me in quite the pickle. Don’t know how I’m going to im
prove on that performance.”
Grant simply gave him a nod, though Kathleen sensed him mentally rolling his eyes.
“Give ’im what-for, Captain,” Jennie Robertson shouted from the edge of the crowd. “We’re in yer corner.”
“Here, here,” added David. “Not that I mean any disrespect to you, Mr. Kendrick,” he hastily added, casting Grant an apologetic smile.
“No apologies necessary,” Grant replied. “After all, blood is thicker than water.”
A smattering of applause and a few cheers greeted the captain as he took his place at the mark. He acknowledged them with a flourishing bow, casting an especially wide smile at Jeannie and David. Kathleen frowned to see her sister applauding so enthusiastically. When Captain Brown winked at her, she gave him a dimpled smile in return.
“Well, that’s a surprise,” Sabrina commented.
“Not a pleasant one,” Kathleen grimly replied. “If that man goes near Jeannie, I will actually murder him. What sort of idiot flirts with a sixteen-year-old girl?”
“What’s amiss, lassies?” Grant said as he joined them. “Yer lookin’ a wee bit fashed, ye ken.”
Just for a moment, Kathleen allowed herself to be distracted by how very fine he looked at close quarters. His plain linen shirt showcased his broad shoulders and chest, and his kilt emphasized his lean hips and long legs. It was impossible to be physically unmoved by the sight of Grant Kendrick in a kilt. She even found herself rendered speechless, which was not a helpful sensation.
“We’re worried that David’s brother is flirting with Jeannie,” Sabrina quietly said.
Her words and the sudden scowl on Grant’s face unstuck Kathleen’s tongue.
“We’re probably overreacting,” she said. “After all, Jeannie has been following the vicar around like a puppy since we arrived. It’s hard to believe she would throw him over so easily.”
“I hope not,” Sabrina said. “David is harmless, but his brother is . . .” She trailed off with a slight grimace.
“Untrustworthy?” Kathleen finished.
“Aye, that,” Grant said as he studied the captain through a narrowed gaze.
Brown had already taken his first shot, with the arrow thudding into the edge of the bull’s-eye. He acknowledged the few calls of encouragement and Jeannie’s enthusiastic clapping before turning back for his second shot.
“Do you want me to speak with him?” Grant asked, glancing at Kathleen.
She waggled a hand. “I don’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill. I’ll keep a careful eye on her.”
“As long as she’s with David, she’s safe,” Sabrina added.
Grant snorted. “Poor fellow’s completely oblivious, for one thing.”
“Thank goodness, or you and Jeannie would be rivals,” Sabrina teasingly said to Kathleen. “I do hope your sister won’t challenge you to a duel.”
“Please. Trying to keep the vicar at arm’s length while not arousing Jeannie’s suspicions has been exhausting.”
“Especially since David has been underfoot all week, helping with fete preparations.” Sabrina shook her head. “I almost wish a villager would take to his deathbed, so he’d be forced to attend to him and stop pestering us.”
Kathleen sputtered out a laugh. “That is positively wicked, Sabrina Kendrick. And the sort of thing I’m supposed to say.”
“It’s the Kendrick influence. It’s corrupting.”
The smile Grant directed at Kathleen was also positively wicked. “With the emphasis on very,” he said.
“You are both ninnies,” she said to compensate for the heat making her flush. “And there will be no corrupting behavior around my sister.”
“Do you want me to give yon vicar and his brother a good thrashing?” Grant suggested. “I’m happy to oblige.”
Sabrina patted his arm. “How kind of you, dear. But I feel certain that David, at least, has no idea how to engage in corrupting behavior.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Kathleen muttered.
Just yesterday, he’d volunteered to help her cut flowers for table decorations. Not wishing to be rude, she’d agreed. The gardens were right behind the house, and staff regularly bustled between the kitchen and the outbuildings. Even if gripped by passion, she’d felt sure the vicar would be on his best behavior in such public conditions.
Sadly, she’d underestimated his misplaced sense of romance. He’d begun to recite a Shakespearean love sonnet as Kathleen was struggling with an overgrown bush of thyme. Although she’d been able to deflect him by commenting that she loathed poetry, he’d quickly rallied. When he’d tried to seize her hand, she’d been forced to accidentally catch her clippers in the hem of his coat, making quite a dreadful tear. She’d then knocked over a nearby watering can that soaked his shoes. Thankfully, that had effectively quenched his passion and he’d made an apologetic retreat.
Grant’s eyes narrowed even farther to glittering emerald slits. “Something you’d like to share about the vicar, lass?”
“Not at all. Oh, look, Captain Brown is about to make his final shot.”
Grant studied her suspiciously for a few moments before turning his attention to the field. “About bloody time he got to it. Pompous ass.”
“Let’s hope you best him,” Sabrina said.
“At this point, I hardly care. After listening to his land scheme twaddle for half the afternoon, I’m in dire need of a drink.” He cut Sabrina a wry glance. “Lemonade and cakes are fine for the kiddies, but I think I’ve had my fill at least for a month.”
Sabrina laughed. “Not to worry. I see that supper is almost ready, and Graeme asked Magnus to bring his best whisky from the distillery. We want everyone to be happy.”
“The villagers are having a splendid time. You’ve done a bang-up job, both of you.”
“I’ve always said that a good romp can solve many a problem,” Kathleen said.
Grant’s gaze went from warm to downright smoky. “I couldn’t agree more, lass,” he all but purred.
She tried to ignore the sensation of her body going up in flames.
Sabrina jabbed her brother-in-law. “Grant Kendrick! That sounded downright salacious.”
“Really? Sounded perfectly normal to me. What say you, Kathleen? Me, salacious?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Kathleen was thankfully spared the need to reply by the sound of cheers from the crowd. The captain’s last shot had hit the center of the bull’s-eye dead-on.
“Dratted man.” Sabrina shook her head in disgust.
“A pompous ass but a first-rate archer,” Grant said.
“You’re a very gracious loser, dear. Good for you.”
Kathleen grimaced. “I’m not. I just lost a bob.”
Grant’s eyebrows shot up. “You bet on me?”
“Oh, ah, did I? Honestly, I can’t remember. It’s been such a commotion all day.”
He flashed her a charming grin. “I suppose I’ll have to figure out a way to recompense you.”
“Make it easy on yourself and just give me the bob.”
“While you two are flirting, I’d best go and award the annoying captain his prize,” Sabrina said.
“I’m not flirting,” Kathleen protested.
“Of course you are.” Her cousin turned and marched off.
After a few moments of silence, Grant shrugged. “That’s a spot of awkward, isn’t it?”
“You don’t look bothered in the least. Of course, neither am I,” she hastily added.
He gently tapped her cheek. “Your freckles are glowing, though.”
Kathleen sighed.
“I like your freckles,” he said.
“You do?”
“Yes. I’ve been wondering how many you have. I wouldn’t mind counting them, ye ken.”
It took her a moment to muster an answer. “Now that was a salacious remark.”
“All in the name of science. The counting, I mean.”
The deep purr in his voice was back. Kathleen ha
d to resist the sudden urge to look for a fainting couch. What in heaven’s name had happened to her sober-sided businessman?
She tried to regroup. “Mr. Kendrick, you simply must—”
Grant took her arm and aimed her toward the refreshment tent. “You can give me a proper scold after we’ve had something to drink. I’m parched.”
“You really are a dreadful man.”
“You must be thinking of Graeme. I’m the nice one, remember?”
He was more than nice. He was absolutely wonderful. And wasn’t that just an irritating state of affairs? She had no room in her life for a man. No man, not even Grant Kendrick.
Then make room, you booby.
“Huh, that’s odd,” he said.
She glanced up at him. “What’s odd?”
“It’s Angus. Something’s up at the supper tent.”
He increased his stride, and she had to scurry to keep up with him.
As they hurried toward the tent, Graeme suddenly fell in stride with his brother.
“Trouble,” Graeme said.
“Aye.”
Kathleen was amazed, as always, at how attuned they were to each other.
The supper tent was the largest on the lawn, and was set up behind the side terrace of the house. The dining room table, which had been moved inside it, was covered in starched linen and decorated with Kathleen’s floral centerpieces. A smaller table next to it held a large punch bowl and various other beverages. Hannah and Angus stood behind that smaller table, engaged in a quiet but fraught discussion.
“What’s amiss, Grandda?” Graeme asked.
“Trouble, ye ken,” Angus grimly replied.
“Obviously,” Grant said. “What sort of trouble?”
Hannah, a slender girl in her mid-twenties, dressed in a neat gray dress with a starched apron, pulled an unhappy face.
“It’s the children’s punch, sir.” She pointed to the large crystal bowl. “It ain’t right.”
“Ye were to be keepin’ an eye on the beverages, lass,” Angus said with disapproval.
“I did keep an eye after ye mixed the punch and left it out in the kitchen,” Hannah retorted. “Once the kitchen maid told me it was ready, one of the lads and me brought it straight out.”
The Highlanderâ??s Irish Bride Page 23