“What I meant to say was that the laird could use an intelligent, genteel woman about the house,” Mrs. Taffy said. “His stepmother was one such a lady. She was the kindest woman one could hope to meet, and there wasn’t a thing her sons and stepsons wouldn’t do for her. Her ladyship was a wonderful influence.”
“But she was their mother,” Victoria said. “Surely that accounted for a good measure of their respect.”
“I’m sure yer right, miss,” Mrs. Taffy said briskly, carrying the bed warmer back to the hearth. “Now, just listen to me babbling when ye must be anxious to crawl into that nice bed. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
Victoria smiled politely. By tomorrow afternoon she would be back on her way to Glasgow and then on to London a few days later. Meeting Lord Arnprior and his colorful family would be no more than an odd, brief detour in her life. No good could come from her remaining at Castle Kinglas, no matter what Dominic, Alec, or anyone else believed.
But as exhaustion pulled Victoria into sleep, a stern, handsome face drifted through her dreams—one whose piercing blue gaze chastised her for running away from those who needed her most.
Chapter Six
Victoria bolted upright. She’d been dreaming of climbing a staircase that stretched endlessly upward inside a tower. Below, in the shadowy depths, something had pursued her. As she struggled on leaden legs to climb, the stairs had dissolved into a craggy, steep hillside. Lost in the mists below, her pursuer had screamed out a horrible, high-pitched sound.
The sound she heard right now.
Bagpipes.
She’d heard them for the first time in Glasgow, when a pipe and drum band had marched past the church where she and Alec attended Sunday services. Victoria had enjoyed the spirited rendition of “Amazing Grace,” so soulful and moving that she’d had to choke back a few tears.
But there was nothing moving or beautiful about what was happening in the courtyard below her window now. In fact, it was quite possibly the most hideous noise she’d ever heard, and she had little doubt the display of musical desecration was intended for her benefit. If she weren’t so exhausted, she’d storm over to the window and shout that the Kendrick men needn’t bother trying to drive her away. There wasn’t enough money in the world to convince her to remain at Castle Bedlam.
But since she was exhausted, and because ladies didn’t generally make a habit of screaming out windows at near strangers, she flopped down and stuffed one of the pillows over her head. It deadened the sound a bit, but certainly not enough to allow her to go back to sleep. Hopefully, someone would get sick of the racket and put an end to it—if not the earl then Mrs. Taffy. The redoubtable housekeeper was clearly dismayed by the antics and bad behavior of “the lads.”
Within minutes, the horrific wail cut off with a final screech. Through the muffling of the pillow, Victoria heard raised voices arguing. Not long after, though, a blessed silence once more fell over the castle.
She eased the pillow away from her head and snuggled under the wool blanket and velvet coverlet, taking comfort in the fact that by this time tomorrow she would be sleeping in one of the lovely bedrooms in Alec’s Glasgow manor house. Closing her eyes, she began to drift once more toward sleep.
Another blast of sound—one distressingly similar to an unmentionable bodily function—split the night. Victoria yelped and almost pitched out of bed. She sucked in several deep breaths to still the wild beating of her heart.
Muttering imprecations about deranged Highlanders, she rolled out of bed and grabbed her wrapper and felt around for her slippers. Despite the banked fire in the hearth, the room was freezing and wreathed in thick shadows.
Her foot connected smartly with one of the thick wooden bedposts.
“Confound it!” She hopped around for a few seconds before getting down on her hands and knees to search for her slippers. She mentally cursed every last Kendrick man, the earl included.
She found her blasted footwear and marched to the door, determined to put an end to the madness down in the courtyard.
As she came out to the hall, another door flew open and Alec stormed out of the room next to hers. Clad only in breeches and a shirt and holding a candle, he looked as murderous as she felt.
“Obviously, that hideous racket woke you, too,” she said.
“There was no sleeping through that charming rendition of ‘Queen Mary’s Escape from Loch Leven.’”
“Good God, how can you even tell the song? More importantly, which madman is abusing those pipes?”
“Whom do you think?” he growled.
“Mr. MacDonald?”
“Spot on. I’m on my way down to throttle him—if Arnprior doesn’t get there first. He’s the one who got Angus to stop the first time.”
“Not you?”
“No. I roared down to the courtyard, but Arnprior was already tearing a strip off Angus like you wouldn’t believe. I almost felt sorry for the old codger. But since the yelling obviously didn’t take, my sympathy has died a quick death.”
She wrinkled her nose. “They must not like me very much if they’re willing to go through all this trouble to be rid of me.”
He shook his head. “No, I think the twins like you rather a lot. They’re just afraid showing it will bring their grandfather’s wrath down on them.”
“Perhaps, but Royal most certainly doesn’t approve of me.”
“He doesn’t like anyone right now, and I have a feeling that Arnprior’s at a loss as to how to deal with him. Royal obviously can’t make his peace with his discharge from the army, and he can’t figure out what he’s going to do with his life.”
Sympathy stirred in Victoria’s chest. “Is he in pain? His limp is quite marked.”
“I’m sure he is. He was badly injured at Waterloo. Almost died, from what I understand. Arnprior told me he was lucky to keep the leg.”
“Poor man. I’m more than willing to excuse his bad behavior, if that’s the case. But the others . . . even the earl doesn’t seem all that keen on trying to convince me to stay.”
Alec frowned. “Trust me—he wants you to stay. It’s just that . . .”
She touched his arm. “It’s all right. You can tell me.”
“He senses that you’re holding something back—that we’re holding something back.”
Her heart jammed against her ribs. “Did he tell you that?”
“Not in so many words, but after dinner he all but interrogated me about why you left Welgate’s employ so precipitously.”
She grimaced. “Oh, that’s not good.”
“He also wished to know why Dominic took such an interest in you.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I simply explained that Dominic has known the Knight family for years and has been of assistance in helping you to secure employment.”
“Did he accept that answer?” Her mentor had worked hard to obscure the fact that she was the Prince Regent’s illegitimate daughter. Her first employer—a wealthy merchant—had known her family history and had not taken exception, but most in the ton would hardly see it as anything but scandalous.
Alec waggled a hand. “He seemed to, but it doesn’t help that you don’t have a reference from Welgate.”
She sighed. “It would appear his lordship doesn’t like me any more than the rest of his family.” Then again, why did she care what Arnprior thought of her? After all, it wasn’t as if she wanted the job.
“I’m sure he thinks you’re just what he needs.”
“If you say so.” She cast a scowl back at the window as another blast of pipes rent the air. “If that wretched noise doesn’t stop, I swear I’m going to find a pistol and murder that man. Or beat him to death with his blasted bagpipes.”
Alec laughed. “Spoken like a true Sassenach. I’ll go down and . . . ah, finally.” The wailing had abruptly cut off.
Victoria sagged against the door frame, letting the tension drain from her body.
“Arnprior mus
t have gone down to roust him again,” Alec said. “It should be fine now.”
“Captain Gilbride, allow me to say that you hold an excessively optimistic view of life.”
He flashed a rueful smile. “I know. Go back to bed, Victoria. I’ll deal with any more problems that might arise tonight. I promise.”
“Thank you.” She cast him a hesitant glance. “Alec, I hate to disappoint Dominic, and I know it will cause complications, but I don’t think I can accept this position.”
His gaze warmed with sympathy. “Why don’t we talk to Arnprior in the morning and see how things stand? I’m sure the situation won’t appear as dire after a good night’s sleep.”
She rolled her eyes. “As I said, you’re excessively optimistic.”
“True, but rest assured that I will support whatever decision you finally make. Now, see if you can get some sleep.”
“I’ll do my best.” Victoria closed the door and trudged back to bed, so weary she was convinced she might sleep through anything, even hideous bagpipe serenades.
Unfortunately, she was mistaken about that. A short time later, the twins decided to hold a carouse just below her window. After suffering through no fewer than three ribald drinking songs, she leapt out of bed and stormed over to the window. As she struggled to open the old casement, Arnprior erupted from a shadowy doorway and stalked across the courtyard toward his brothers.
The earl was wearing nothing but a kilt, and was in the process of securing it around his waist. With an almost full moon shining down, she got more than an eyeful of broad, muscular shoulders and an exceedingly brawny chest. In the moonlight, he seemed nothing like the civilized aristocrat who’d pulled out her chair at dinner. This man looked like a wild Highlander, ready to go on a rampage.
With a lamentable lack of feminine sensibility, she stared down at him, unable to avert her gaze.
Graeme and Grant quickly took to their heels in self-preservation. Given the ferocity of the earl’s demeanor, she had little doubt the twins would have emerged worse for wear from an encounter with their much-put-upon brother.
Arnprior came to a halt beneath Victoria’s window, staring after his younger half-siblings with obvious frustration. He propped his hands on his hips and glanced up at her window, appearing to meet her gaze.
She was transfixed. Moonlight gleamed over his half-nude body, lovingly highlighting his tall, muscular form and his imposing presence. In the shimmering light, out there in the cold and unforgiving night air, he didn’t seem quite real. Victoria was not a woman prone to excessive imaginings, but she could see Arnprior as a creature from a more primitive time—perhaps a fierce Celtic warrior, or even a pagan god come to claim a virgin sacrifice.
And here you are, gaping down at him like a henwit.
She glanced down at herself, suddenly aware that her nightdress had slipped off her shoulder and her cap had fallen from her head, exposing her tumbled-down hair.
Scrambling backward, she sank down to the chilly floorboards. Victoria pressed a hand to her heart, trying to catch her breath and think rationally. The earl couldn’t have seen her, since it was all-but pitch black in her room and she’d never managed to get the window open. And even in her nightdress she was covered from head to toe, which was a great deal more than she could say for him. Yes, it was his castle and his brothers were acting outrageous, but that was hardly a good excuse for a gentleman to run about half-naked.
No matter how handsome and well built that gentleman might happen to be.
She edged up and peered out the window to see that Alec had finally made his way to the courtyard, having taken the time to get properly dressed first. As he and Arnprior quietly conferred, she couldn’t help noticing that the frigid night air didn’t seem to bother the earl in the least, despite his unclothed state.
When they went back inside, Victoria stumbled back to bed, praying that the antics were over for the night. The morning was bound to be a tense affair, since she would have to inform the earl that she would not be accepting the position.
The final indignity of the night occurred a few hours later, when a rooster started crowing below her window. There was, of course, nothing unusual about roosters crowing at daybreak. Victoria refused to believe, however, that the Earl of Arnprior made a habit of housing barnyard animals right below the family bedrooms.
By the time the maid arrived an hour later to light the fire and bring a pot of tea, Victoria was up packing her bags. She’d spent that hour mentally rehearsing a speech in which she would tell the earl exactly what she thought of his deranged family. And once she finished, she would leave Castle Kinglas behind her forever.
* * *
Nick was bolting down his second cup of coffee, hoping to clear the mental cobwebs. Various irate persons would start showing up any minute, and he wanted to be prepared.
A rap sounded smartly on the library door.
Not even a minute.
“Enter.”
Alec stalked into the room, looking as tired and frustrated as Nick felt. His friend, however, would have the good fortune to escape this madhouse in just a few hours, whereas Nick would be an inmate for life.
“Before you take my head, sit down and have some coffee,” Nick said, waving to one of the leather club chairs.
Alec came to a halt in front of the large walnut desk and glared at him. “Hell, no. We’re going to have this out right now. Why the devil can’t you control your bloody household? In your regiment, no soldier in his right mind would have dared to defy you.”
“I believe the phrase ‘right mind’ captures the essence of the problem,” Nick said.
“Not good enough,” Alec snapped.
“The last time I looked, Captain Gilbride, this was my castle, not yours, so please refrain from issuing orders. Just sit the hell down and have a cup of coffee.” His emphasis of Alec’s rank was a reminder that he’d once been a junior officer under Nick’s command.
His friend fumed for a few more seconds before a reluctant smile cracked the edges of his mouth, then he sank into a chair with a half-hearted grumble. “You always were more imperious than a royal duke, Arnprior.”
“You would know, I suppose.”
Alec eyed the large coffee service on the desk. “Expecting a crowd, are we?”
“I expect at least three more to join me before breakfast, each anxious to give me a piece of his—or her—mind.”
“I’ll wager Miss Knight will be down next,” Alec said as he poured himself a cup. “If I were you, I’d find some cotton batting to stuff in your ears.”
“That bad, eh?” Nick said.
Of course it was that bad. Only the dead could have slept through last night’s mayhem.
“She’s not happy,” Alec said.
Nick rubbed his temples where a headache was forming. “I’ll apologize to her, naturally. And make what amends I can in the hopes of convincing her to stay.”
“Good luck with that, old son,” Alec said with a bland smile.
Nick stared at him from between his hands. “As much as I hate to admit it, old son, I need the girl’s help. And I’d be much obliged if you would do what you can to assist me.”
Alec shook his head. “My only concern at this point is what’s best for Victoria.”
“I didn’t realize you and Miss Knight were on a first-name basis,” Nick said. “How . . . unusual.”
Alec’s genial gaze faded. “What the hell are you suggesting, Arnprior?”
“I’m just curious as to why you’re so protective of her.”
After a moment of staring at him, Alec let out a guffaw. “You are utterly daft. You do remember meeting my wife, don’t you? Would you cheat on Edie?”
“Mrs. Gilbride is, of course, entirely charming.” Nick’s taste, however, did not run to buxom, vivacious blondes. Skinny, tart-tongued blondes were apparently more to his liking, which was a rather unwelcome revelation, under the circumstances.
“You know I would never betray
my wife,” Alec said, “and Victoria Knight would never engage in scandalous behavior, in any case. If you think she might, then rest assured she will be returning to Glasgow with me.”
“I’m happy to hear I was wrong,” Nick said. “Nor was it Miss Knight’s behavior that led me to make what was clearly an unfortunate assumption.”
“Was that an apology?” Alec asked suspiciously.
“Feel free to take it that way, if you wish.”
Alec shook his head. “You can be a right bastard sometimes, Arnprior.”
“I’m sure my family would agree with your assessment. But surely you don’t believe Miss Knight could come to any harm under my roof. My grandfather and brothers may be idiots, but they would never lay a finger on the girl.”
“I know,” Alec replied.
“Then what’s the problem? Sir Dominic assured me that Miss Knight was both qualified and eager for a good position.”
Alec seemed to wrestle with himself. “She certainly needs the damn job, I can tell you that.”
Again, Nick felt a stirring of unease. A qualified governess with good recommendations was invariably in high demand. Miss Knight, however, seemed to be having some difficulties in that respect, despite her sterling qualifications. But since he needed the confounded girl, he simply had to trust that Dominic and Alec wouldn’t steer him wrong.
After putting his coffee cup on the desk, Alec pinned him with a warning gaze. “All right, I’ll do what I can to persuade her to take the position. But know that Miss Knight is under Dominic’s protection, and mine as well. I trust you understand what that means.”
Before he could reply to the thinly veiled threat, Royal limped into the room.
Nick flashed his brother a brief smile but kept his attention on Alec. “We will treat Miss Knight like royalty, I promise.”
Alec snorted. “See that you do.”
Royal sank into the other club chair. “After last night’s performances, I’m amazed the lass didn’t steal a horse and ride pell-mell back to Glasgow.”
Nick caught his brother’s slight grimace as he rubbed his thigh. “Your leg is bothering you again?”
The Highlander's Princess Bride Page 8