The Highlander's Irish Bride

by Vanessa Kelly

  “Och, yon vicar’s a hapless idiot,” Grant said.

  “Since he allowed a sixteen-year-old girl to lure him upstairs, I cannot disagree,” Sabrina replied.

  “And I’m going to find out exactly how she did it.” Kathleen marched off down the hall.

  “The offer to thrash the hapless idiot is still open,” Grant said as he strode with her.

  “I’m reserving that honor for myself.”

  She certainly felt like giving someone a good whack, including herself for losing control of the situation. Again.

  The study was at the back of the house and thankfully well away from the party. Her sister might be only sixteen, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t old enough to ruin her reputation. Or to force a vicar into marriage to preserve both their reputations.

  As they approached the end of the hall, they heard raised voices coming from the study.

  “Why the hell is Angus in there?” Grant asked.

  “He wasn’t when I left,” Sabrina said.

  Kathleen stopped outside the door, drawing in a calming breath as she prepared for the upcoming fireworks. When a brawny arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her close, she had an overwhelming urge to shut her eyes and snuggle against Grant’s chest.

  “No worries, lass. We’ll get it sorted.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head before letting her go.

  “Grant, dear, that was an extremely anemic first kiss,” Sabrina said with disapproval.

  He winked at his sister-in-law. “How do you know it was our first kiss?”

  “I have an infallible instinct for such matters.”

  “You are both ridiculous,” Kathleen said.

  He smiled. “Aye, that. Want me to go in first? I can tackle Graeme to the floor and clear the field.”

  “That sounds very helpful,” she retorted.

  The silly exchange, however, had done the trick. Kathleen no longer felt like leaping out the nearest window and fleeing into the night.

  She squared her shoulders, stalked into the room, and came to a dead halt. Grant almost ran over her, sidestepping at the last moment.

  “Jeannie, what in God’s name are you doing?” she blurted out.

  The vicar was squeezed between Jeannie and the bookshelves to the left of Graeme’s desk. One part of Kathleen’s mind registered that he looked utterly horrified. A larger part, however, noted that Jeannie was standing with her back to him, facing Graeme with her arms spread wide.

  “What do you think?” Jeannie snapped. “I’m saving David from being murdered.”

  “Och, nae worries,” said Angus as he held Graeme’s arm, trying to pull him back. “Our lad will nae be killin’ anyone.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Graeme barked. “No one takes advantage of a girl in my house, not even the bloody vicar.”

  “But . . . but I didn’t take advantage of anyone,” David stuttered, turning whiter than his clerical collar.

  “Don’t worry, David,” Jeannie passionately exclaimed. “I’ll protect you.”

  Kathleen threw off her paralysis and rushed to her sister. “Dearest, I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding. And there’s no need to squish poor Mr. Brown against the bookshelf. It’s a wonder he can even breathe.”

  “I’ll not move one inch until I know he’s going to be safe. We’re going to be married, so it’s my duty to protect him.”

  David let out a whimper.

  Graeme overrode the whimper with a growl. “So ye have been taking advantage of yon lass. Now I will have to kill ye.”

  “Sabrina, could you please get your husband under control?” Kathleen gritted out.

  Her cousin marched up and took Graeme’s other arm, giving it a shake. “Graeme, you are acting like a jinglebrains. I am sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.”

  “I’ve yet to hear it,” Graeme snapped.

  “I already explained it, if people would just listen,” Jeannie said. “David and I are getting married, so he’s not taking advantage of me.”

  “You are most certainly not getting married,” Kathleen said. “For heaven’s sake, Jeannie, look at the poor man. He’s utterly terrified.”

  “I say,” protested Brown, “it’s only because Sir Graeme keeps threatening to murder me.”

  Kathleen all but goggled at him. “So you do want to marry my sister?”

  “No, of course not! I want to marry—”

  “Please don’t say another word about marriage,” Kathleen hurriedly cut in.

  Stricken, Jeannie twisted around to face him. “David, of course you want to marry me. After all, you kissed me.”

  He emphatically shook his head. “No, you kissed me.”

  “But you didn’t push me away,” Jeannie said with a frown.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he exclaimed.

  “A likely story,” Graeme retorted. “Why else would you come up here with her?”

  “I came up here to fetch a book her ladyship said I could borrow,” David protested. “Miss Jeannie followed me.”

  Graeme snorted his disdain for that explanation.

  Angus elbowed him. “Leave off. Yer actin’ like a complete booby.”

  “I’m sure you find this vastly amusing, Grant,” Sabrina said in a stern voice. “But will you please do something with your idiot twin?”

  Grant did look like he was stifling laughter, but he went over and dropped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Come on, old son. Let’s leave the ladies to it.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Grant began to look irritated. “Can you at least stop growling like a tiger with a thorn in his paw? You sound ridiculous.”

  His twin cast him an incredulous glance. “This situation doesn’t bother you?”

  “What bothers me most is that you’re distressing the ladies.”

  Since Graeme winced, that was obviously a home hit.

  “As Kathleen said, I’m sure it must be a misunderstanding,” Grant added.

  “It’s not,” Jeannie stubbornly put in.

  “I know you want to protect him, lass,” Grant replied in a kind tone. “And that’s a generous instinct. But Vicar Brown is a grown man, many years older than you. He’s well able to speak for himself.”

  “I won’t let anyone hurt him,” Jeannie said.

  “No one will. You have my word.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Graeme retorted.

  His twin gave him a sharp elbow in the side.

  “That actually hurt,” Graeme muttered with a scowl.

  Grant ignored him. “I do believe we need to hear from Mr. Brown, and without any more declarations or threats.”

  Since Jeannie was clearly beginning to waver, Kathleen took her hand. “I think David is embarrassed by what’s happening here, love. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

  Jeannie glanced over her shoulder at the vicar, who now appeared to be praying for a miraculous escape from the humiliating scene.

  “All right,” she reluctantly agreed. “But nobody’s to start yelling at David again.”

  “No yelling allowed,” Kathleen replied in a soothing tone as she gently pulled her sister away from the object of her devotion.

  David breathed out an audible sigh of relief and made an attempt to straighten his mangled collar.

  “Go on, lad,” Angus said in an encouraging voice. “We’re listening.”

  “Ahem, thank you. As I was trying to explain, her ladyship had recommended a book she thought I would like, one by Sir Walter Scott—”

  “Of course, it would be one of those inane novels,” Graeme interrupted.

  “She had generously offered to lend it to me,” the vicar finished with wounded dignity.

  “That’s right,” Sabrina said. “I told David he could borrow my copy whenever he wished.”

  “I meant to pick it up the other day, but I, er, experienced a small accident with a watering can in the garden, which forced me to return home.”

/>   When David then darted a glance at Kathleen and blushed, she had to swallow a curse.

  Grant looked at her. His mouth twitched, but then he simply nodded at the vicar. “Carry on, Mr. Brown.”

  “Anyway, I didn’t wish to miss another opportunity. So before supper, I came upstairs to retrieve the book. I was looking through the shelves when Miss Jeanette came into the room.”

  “I followed him up,” Jeannie said with fatal candor. “I thought it would finally be our chance to be alone.” She gazed defiantly around the room. “I wanted to tell David that I loved him.”

  Kathleen sighed. “Dearest, that was neither wise nor appropriate. You put both Mr. Brown and yourself in a very awkward position. If anyone else had found out—”

  Jeannie flung away from her. “You have no right to speak to me like that, Kath. You’re not my mother or my guardian. And if I want—”

  “Vicar, I believe Captain Brown will be wondering where you are,” Grant smoothly put in. “And the ladies will no doubt wish to talk without us hanging about like useless ninnies.”

  “Oh . . . oh, indeed,” David said with a grateful smile. “Certainly, poor John will be wondering where I am. I’ve been gone for much too long.”

  Graeme stepped forward and took him by the arm. “Splendid. I’ll escort you downstairs.”

  Before anyone could say another word, he frog-marched David from the room.

  “Best go and make sure he doesna throw yon vicar over the banister,” Angus said to Grant.

  “Indeed,” Grant dryly replied.

  When Kathleen cast him a grateful smile, he gave her a thoroughly roguish wink in reply. That brought a heated blush to her cheeks, but he was already striding from the room.

  Angus waggled his bushy eyebrows at Kathleen. “Looks like there’s hope for our Grant after all, eh, lass?”

  Jeannie scowled. “I wish people would stop saying things I don’t understand.”

  “Grandda, you can go any time,” Sabrina pointedly said.

  “Happens yer right. The lads will probably get into it once Graeme gives yon vicar and his scaly brother the boot.”

  Sabrina pointed at the door. “Out. Now.”

  “Nae need to get fashed, missy. I’m off.”

  After he’d stomped out and slammed the door shut, Kathleen sagged against the bookshelves. “Thank God. What an utterly dreadful scene.”

  “Only because you were all so mean,” Jeannie said in a surly tone.

  Still, she didn’t miss the tearful shimmer in the girl’s eyes. Jeannie was obviously mortified and hurt. And now Kathleen had to hurt her even more.

  She lovingly placed her hands on her sister’s shoulders. Jeannie’s gaze was filled with both a wounded defiance and a vulnerability that made Kathleen’s heart ache.

  “Darling, I know you think you love Mr. Brown—”

  “I do,” Jeannie exclaimed.

  “All right, let’s accept that is so. Can you honestly say Mr. Brown returns your feelings?”

  Jeannie’s lips pressed tight, as if refusing to allow the words to escape.

  “Sweetheart, Mr. Brown is almost twice your age,” Sabrina said in a kind voice. “And you have quite a lot of growing up to do before you’re ready for marriage.”

  “Other girls get married at my age,” Jeannie protested. “And I’m sure he’d wait for me, anyway.”

  Kathleen steeled herself for the necessary cut. “I’m sorry, darling. Mr. Brown is a very kind man, and I’m sure he thinks you’re a terribly sweet girl. But I can say without a shadow of a doubt that he does not love you.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  She held Jeannie’s gaze. “I assure you, I do.”

  The girl stared at her for a moment. Then she gasped. “You want him for yourself, don’t you?”

  “I absolutely do not,” Kathleen emphatically replied.

  Jeannie pulled from her loose grasp. “I don’t believe you. You always have to have everything, don’t you? You always have to have all the attention.” She dashed a hand across her eyes. “It’s not fair.”

  “Dearest, I swear to you—”

  The girl pushed past her and stormed for the door. When Kathleen started after her, Jeannie spun around and flung up her hands.

  “Leave me alone, Kath. I hate you. I hate you.” Then she ran from the room.

  Stunned, Kathleen sank into the club chair in front of Graeme’s desk. “I made a mess out of that, didn’t I?”

  Sabrina grimaced. “It couldn’t be avoided, I’m afraid. Now, can I get you a whisky, old girl? You look like you could use it.”

  “Please. And make it a large one.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Despite the darkness, Grant easily spotted Kathleen in the new gazebo at the far end of the kitchen garden. She’d designed the elegant little folly, incongruously set amidst vegetable beds. She had a knack for bringing beauty to the odd corners of life that everyone else forgot, filling them with laughter, joy, and even love.

  When she’d burst into his quiet life like quicksilver and moonlight, she’d yanked him awake. Grant now knew that Kathleen Calvert was exactly what he’d been looking for all along.

  He walked past the neatly tended beds, some already mulched and ready for the colder months ahead. Would Kathleen spend those months up here, separated from the wider world and from him? That was a question that needed answering.

  She sat on a wrought-iron bench in the corner, her legs tucked under her skirts. Deep in thought, she didn’t glance up until he stepped into the gazebo.

  “Getting a bit of fresh air, are we?” Grant asked.

  “I’m hiding,” she tersely replied. “This place seemed safe from discovery.”

  “Ah. Would you rather I go away?”

  “Oh . . . no. I’m sorry to snap your nose off. You startled me, that’s all.”

  He leaned against a support post. “I should have called out before sneaking up on you.”

  “You Kendricks do seem to excel at popping up out of nowhere.”

  “Then perhaps you could bell me, like a cat.”

  She chuckled. “I’d say you’re much too big, and more like a tiger than a harmless tabby cat.”

  Grant rather liked the sound of that. “Seen any tigers lately? Besides me, of course.”

  “Only in illustrations, but I think they have green eyes, also like you.”

  “And like me, they have excellent night vision.” He shook out the wool cloak he’d slung over his arm. “I can see you shivering, lass. That pretty dress is not nearly warm enough for lurking in gardens at night.”

  “I did bring a shawl, as you can see.”

  “Och, that little scrap of fabric?” He draped the cloak around her slender form and carefully pulled the hood over her coiffure.

  “Thank you. I was getting a bit chilly and was just contemplating a return to the house. But I’m terrified of running into the vicar—or my sister.” She sighed. “Coward that I am.”

  Grant settled next to her on the bench. “You’re safe from David. He fled posthaste after my deranged twin put a scare into him. I doubt yon vicar will be showing his face around Lochnagar anytime soon.”

  “That’s one small blessing.” She suddenly started to scramble up. “I don’t suppose you know where Jeannie is? I hope she didn’t go after David.”

  Grant gently pulled her back down. “No worries. According to Sabrina, she went to her room.”

  She peered up at him. “I suppose Sabrina told you what happened after you escorted David from the room?”

  He snorted. “Escorted him is putting it nicely. Graeme probably would have tossed him out a window if I hadn’t been there. I was tempted to let him do it, too. The good vicar is a nincompoop.”

  “I cannot entirely blame him, since Jeannie is a very determined girl. She gets that from my example, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m guessing you were never as naïve as our Jeannie.”

  “I think losing my mother at such a
n early age forced me to leave my childhood behind.”

  “Aye, that,” he quietly replied.

  She glanced up at him, her expression hidden in the shadows cast by the hood. “Of course you would understand, having lost both your parents so early.”

  What could he possibly say? That his innocence had buckled under the weight of grief? That he’d believed for too long that any chance for true happiness had died that day he’d been unable to save his father?

  She slipped a hand out from the cloak and rested it on top of his. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Kathleen, your wee hand is as cold as snow,” he gruffly said, tucking it back under the thick wool. “We should go back inside before you catch a chill.”

  When Kade was a little boy, he’d caught a terrible chill that had almost killed him. It had taken years for him to regain his strength. The idea of anything like that happening to Kathleen . . .

  He stood. “Back ye get.”

  She grabbed his sleeve and yanked him down to the bench with a surprising strength. “Don’t be such a fussbudget. I’m perfectly warm.”

  “Fussbudget, am I?”

  “Sometimes. When you’re worried about someone.”

  Grant settled back down. “Very well, we’ll stay but not for much longer. It’s the Highlands, and our nights get cold this time of year.”

  “I’m getting used to it, which is an alarming notion.”

  “Wait until January. This weather will seem like the middle of the summer.”

  She chuckled. “Are you trying to scare me?”

  “Nothing scares you, lass.”

  “That is certainly not true.”

  “Name one thing that frightens you—and I’m not talking about spiders, or a mouse running across your foot.”

  “I must say that I cannot stand spiders.”

  “Do you run screaming for the nearest footman to kill it whenever you see one?”

  “Spiders do serve a purpose, you know, especially in the garden. They eat other bugs that damage the plants, for one thing.”

  “So you leave them be?”

  “We have reached a mutually acceptable solution. I try to avoid them, and they try to avoid me.”

  Her laugh echoed his own. The warmth of her laughter wrapped itself quietly around his heart.