The Highlander's Princess Bride

by Vanessa Kelly

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Grant. “We’re quite looking forward to our lessons with you. Nick—I mean, the earl—has told us we must work very hard and absorb everything you have to teach us.”

  Victoria was rising from a quick curtsy, but those words practically locked her knees in place. “Lessons? Surely you’re both much too old for a governess,” she said with an uneasy chuckle.

  “Too bloody right,” muttered Angus, scowling at her.

  Victoria was growing quite tired of his ugly scowls. There would have to be a reckoning with the old man, but right now she had other concerns.

  “We’re twenty-two, Miss Knight,” Graeme said. “But Nick says we still need tutoring.”

  “Not that we necessarily agree with him,” Grant added hastily, “but he says you’ll teach us all we need to know, and that you’ll soon set us to rights.”

  She frowned. “Did you not attend university, or have tutors?”

  “Both,” Arnprior tersely replied.

  An uncomfortable silence ensued.

  “Then, what happened?” Victoria prodded.

  The twins exchanged a puzzled glance, as if they expected her to already know the details.

  “We got kicked out of university,” Graeme finally said.

  Argh. “Officially, or were you just sent down for a term?”

  “Kicked out and told never to return,” Grant said morosely.

  What had they done to deserve so severe a punishment? When she looked at the earl, he seemed oddly detached from the conversation, as if waiting for her to react. Dominic sometimes wore that look, and she didn’t like it.

  “My lord, are you asking me to take over the lessons your brothers would have received at university?” she asked. “Because if so, I do not feel qualified. They should have a male tutor in that case.”

  The earl gestured toward her chair, his broad shoulders shifting under the dark cloth of his jacket. “Why don’t we have tea first, and then discuss the matter? Would you mind doing the honors, Miss Knight?”

  Alec, who’d obviously been throttling back his irritation, finally spoke up. “Arnprior, this should not be a complicated discussion. Simply tell Miss Knight what you expect.”

  “Tea first,” the earl said. “Then I’ll explain.”

  Alec threw up a hand. “Confound it—”

  Arnprior cut him off. “Everyone sit down. Now.”

  The twins scrambled to comply, all but tripping over themselves to sit on a scroll-backed settee across from Victoria. They plunked down so vigorously that she feared the settee’s delicate cabriolet legs would collapse under the strain. Alec remained standing, glaring at his host. Arnprior crossed his arms over his brawny chest and lifted an imperious eyebrow to calmly stare back at him.

  Alec finally rolled his eyes and capitulated. Her cousin was a big, confident man who’d also had a distinguished career in the military, and was heir to an earldom. But Arnprior was something different, and that difference was impressive. Victoria judged him to be at least ten years older than Alec, and he evoked an authority that suggested he bent to no man, even one of higher station.

  His commanding manner and intense gaze produced an odd effect in Victoria. It made her insides seem to quiver, something she did not appreciate.

  The earl handed her to the elegant walnut armchair. Victoria’s skin prickled as his hand wrapped around hers, the feel of his callused fingers a bit unnerving. Ever since Fletcher’s attack, she’d been skittish at the touch of a man. Chloe had assured her that those worrying feelings would eventually pass, and Victoria could only hope such would be the case. She hated having to suffer a fearful response whenever a stranger, or even an acquaintance, so much as brushed against her.

  Arnprior pulled over a wingback chair and sat at one end of the tea table. Though the chair was massive and heavy looking, the earl picked it up as if it had been constructed of mere twigs.

  “Ooh, seedcakes,” said Graeme, reaching for the cake plate as Victoria began to pour. “Taffy’s are the best, Miss Knight. Cook’s aren’t nearly as good.”

  “Actually, Cook’s are rather dreadful,” said Grant. “And Taffy only makes hers for special occasions. Hand me one, will you, Graeme?”

  Victoria clutched the Chinese porcelain teapot and stared at the twins. Not only were their hands in a distressing state of grubbiness, they were wolfing down the cakes like . . . well, ravenous wolves. To say their manners were appalling understated the case.

  “Good God,” muttered Alec when Graeme wiped his mouth on his sleeve. It was a sentiment Victoria shared. The earl had claimed that his brothers were gentlemen, yet so far she’d seen no evidence to back up that assertion.

  She peeked at Arnprior to gauge his reaction to his brothers’ disgraceful behavior and almost dropped the teapot. He was, once again, singularly focused on her. Was he waiting to see if she would reveal her distaste or faint dead away at the twins’ boorish behavior? If so, he was in for a surprise.

  Still, she had to close her eyes for a few seconds to clamp down on a surge of frustration. She was tired and crabby from the long days on the road, and she had yet to even wash her face or brush the travel dirt from her clothes.

  Alec touched her arm. “Victoria, are you quite well?”

  She forced a smile. If the earl was testing her ability to maintain her poise—which seemed the only reasonable explanation—then she was more than ready to show her mettle.

  “I’m quite well, thank you,” she said as she prepared Alec a cup. After handing it over, she regarded her host. “And what do you take in your tea, my lord?”

  “I take it plain.” Arnprior nodded his thanks when she served him, and then began chatting with Alec while she prepared cups for the twins.

  Graeme gave her a pointed wink when she handed one to him, which she just as pointedly ignored. Victoria already had his measure. He was basically harmless, and best dealt with by refusing to respond to provocations he cast in her path.

  When Grant bobbed his head and shyly thanked her, she rewarded him with a smile that prompted a scowl from his twin. Clearly, Graeme was the mischief-maker, while Grant simply followed his brother’s lead. If left to his own devices, Grant would probably be much less disposed to get into trouble. It was a vulnerability she intended to exploit—if she decided to stay in this madhouse past the next twenty-four hours.

  She glanced at Mr. MacDonald, sitting apart by the fireplace. She didn’t know if he was chilly, or making a point by being standoffish. Probably the latter. “Mr. MacDonald, what do you take in your tea?”

  “Milk and two lumps,” he barked.

  She prepared the cup and held it out. The old man sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. Victoria refused to budge from her chair. She had to draw a firm line or be forever bullied by him and everyone else who might be inclined to follow his lead. Having been a governess for several years, she’d come to expect a certain disregard from those she served. But she would no longer tolerate bullies or any sort of brutish behavior, even from someone holding a favored position in the household.

  Especially if he had a favored position, given the disaster of her last situation.

  The room had fallen silent again.

  “Is there a problem, Miss Knight?” the earl finally asked.

  “Not at all, my lord.” She continued to hold the cup steady, resisting the urge to stalk over and dump it on the old man’s head. Or Lord Arnprior’s, for that matter, if he didn’t stop scowling at her.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alec struggling not to grin, and that gave her a boost of courage. Her arm was beginning to tire, though, so she hoped the impasse wouldn’t last much longer.

  “For pity’s sake, Angus,” the earl said, “just fetch your blasted cup.”

  The old man jerked up his chin. “If ye think I’ll be pan-derin’ to some—”

  Grant jumped to his feet. “I’ll bring it to you, Grandda.”

  The young man snatched the cup from Victoria
’s hand, slopping tea into the saucer, and hurried over to his grandfather.

  Mr. MacDonald smiled at his grandson. “Yer a good lad. Anyone who thinks ye need tutorin’ on your manners is daft.” Then he shot Victoria a triumphant sneer.

  She forced herself to calmly pour her own cup, taking a sip while she composed her thoughts. Arnprior had gone back to observing her with that steady but rather grim regard. She apparently was not passing the test, even though she’d kept her poise under trying circumstances.

  After setting her cup down on the table with a decided click, she met the earl’s gaze. “I have a few questions, my lord, if you don’t mind.”

  “About your tasks?” Arnprior nodded. “Yes, we’ll get to that in a minute.”

  “I think we should get to it now,” Alec said bluntly. “Miss Knight can then determine if she wishes to take up the position or return to Glasgow with me.”

  Mr. MacDonald and the twins perked up considerably. It seemed the twins were not looking forward to her tutelage, after all.

  “I didn’t realize Miss Knight was thinking of bolting already,” the earl replied.

  “Of course I’m not thinking of bolting,” she snapped.

  Well, actually she was. She managed to keep a straight face—but just barely—when the earl regarded her with an ironic gaze.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “Before I outline your duties, perhaps you’d care to give me some sense of your experience. Sir Dominic’s letter was lacking in details, I’m afraid.” His glance slid over her, head to toe. “You seem rather young to have done much teaching.”

  “I am five and twenty, my lord, and I’ve been teaching for seven years,” she said stiffly.

  “That long?”

  Mentally consigning him to the devil, she folded her hands in her lap.

  “Perhaps you can outline both your education and your previous teaching positions,” he added.

  “Certainly, sir. I attended school for several years at Miss Kirby’s Seminary for Young Ladies in Lincoln, which has an excellent reputation for both academics and music. I teach all the usual subjects like history and geography, along with French and Italian, and I’m proficient in music, playing both the pianoforte and the harp.”

  “Kade will like that, won’t he, Nick?” Grant piped up. “All he thinks about is music.”

  “Unfortunately,” muttered Mr. MacDonald.

  Victoria then gave the earl a thorough rundown on her past employment. Arnprior listened with a skeptical air.

  “You clearly have a great deal experience teaching girls of all ages,” he said when she was finished. “But you said little about boys. How many have you taught over the years?”

  “Not many, as I’m sure you’d already deduced.”

  “That leads me to wonder why you think you can take on the teaching of older boys, or even young men.”

  “Arnprior, you do realize that Sir Dominic would never have recommended Miss Knight for the position if he didn’t think she could do it,” Alec said in an irritated voice.

  The earl flashed a humorless smile. “One would think so. Miss Knight, I understand you do not have a reference from your last employer. Why is that?”

  Fortunately, Dominic had coached her on how to respond to this predictable but still nerve-wracking question. “Because I decided to leave the position. I felt it did not suit my skills.”

  His expressive eyebrows lifted once more. “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” she said firmly. “My pupils were too young to benefit from my experience and level of skills.”

  “And are you always so particular about what positions you take?”

  “Indeed I am, my lord. Which is why I’d like to—”

  The door opened and a man strode into the room. Garbed in a kilt and leather vest like Mr. MacDonald and the twins—although a good deal cleaner, thank God—he was clearly a Kendrick. He was a few years older than the twins and his hair was burnished chestnut rather than flaming red. Unlike his brothers, his handsome features lacked any trace of good humor.

  He stalked over, his long stride marked by a limp. As he stopped directly in front of Victoria, his striking green gaze swept over her, eyeing her with disdain.

  “So you’re the new tutor,” he growled as she stared up at him. “I’ll warn you right now, lassie. You can stay the hell away from me.”

  Chapter Five

  Nick’s brothers were obviously colluding with Angus to make things as difficult as possible for the new governess. At this rate, they might even succeed in driving her away.

  “I was not expecting you until dinnertime,” Nick said to Royal. He’d hoped to introduce his siblings in small batches.

  His brother shot him an angry look. The lad was always angry these days, unfortunately.

  “I’m well aware you wanted to keep me away for the day,” Royal said. “But since your benighted plans will have an impact on me as well, I have a right to be here when you interview our new teacher.”

  Miss Knight peered up at him as he loomed over her. Then her gaze flew to Nick. “My lord, what is going on here?”

  “This is my brother Royal,” Nick said through clenched teeth. “I apologize on his behalf, since he has clearly forgotten his manners.” His brother’s behavior was why he needed her help, which should be screamingly obvious to her by now.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Royal,” Alec said, shaking his head. “Never knew you to be rude to the ladies before.”

  Royal threw Alec a startled glance. The two had become friends during the war, and Royal had a great deal of respect for the future Earl of Riddick.

  There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence before Royal gave the governess a terse nod. “Forgive me, ma’am. It would seem that my manners have gone begging. Of course, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To turn us into the daintiest set of gentlemen ever to hit the marriage mart.”

  Miss Knight’s big blue eyes went wide with surprise and, Nick fancied, horror. “I am?”

  Royal shrugged. “That’s the plan, although I have no intention of going along with it.”

  “Of course not,” snapped Angus. “There’s nothin’ wrong with the lot of ye, as any right-thinkin’ Highlander would know.”

  “Tell that to Nick,” Graeme piped up.

  “I have, ye booby,” his grandfather shot back.

  “Repeatedly,” Nick said.

  Miss Knight sucked in a deep breath. Nick had to admit he was impressed with her self-discipline and her ability to defend herself. Both were qualities she would need in abundance in his household.

  As embarrassing as it was to watch his family behave so boorishly in front of a genteel young woman, he’d allowed it up to a point. He needed to know if she could manage the Kendrick men and the nonsense they would throw at her.

  Unfortunately, they were throwing a bit more at her than Nick had anticipated.

  “I would be grateful if you would step away,” Miss Knight said to Royal. “You are exceedingly tall, an affliction apparently common in your family. I do hope you won’t all be looming over me on a regular basis. Otherwise, I will be forced to wear a neck brace.”

  That brought a snort out of Royal. “God forbid. We already have one cripple in this household. We don’t need another.”

  The governess studied him for a few seconds, and then simply nodded.

  Royal limped over to settle in a wingback chair on the opposite side of the fireplace, grimacing slightly as he stretched out his leg. There were days when the old wound still troubled him, days when he pushed himself too hard. But that was Royal—he never gave an inch or acknowledged weakness, and never asked for help.

  The qualities that had made him an outstanding soldier and officer were now pulling him ever deeper into quiet despair.

  Miss Knight’s voice broke into Nick’s gloomy thoughts.

  “My lord, it’s time to be frank with each other.” She was regarding him with severity, as if about to box his ears o
r send him to stand in a corner.

  For some bizarre reason, it made Nick want to laugh. The girl was so out of place in a roomful of brawny, bad-tempered men that she resembled a kitten facing down a pack of half-tamed wolfhounds.

  “What exactly would you like to know, Miss Knight?” He couldn’t resist the temptation to tease her, just to see how she would react.

  “I would like to know exactly what my duties would be in regard to your older brothers.” She carefully enunciated every word, as if talking to a half-wit.

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Graeme broke in. “You’re supposed to teach us how to be proper gentlemen, just like Royal said.”

  “And help you find wives?” she asked, disbelief coloring her tone.

  Grant nodded eagerly. “You’re to help us find suitable wives. Nick says that no suitable woman would have any of us as we are now.”

  Graeme jabbed his brother in the shoulder. “But what about the unsuitable ones, eh?”

  The twins burst into raucous laughter. When Nick shot them an evil glare, they clamped their mouths shut in mid-guffaw. In the sudden silence, he could practically hear Miss Knight’s churning thoughts.

  From the look on her face, those thoughts weren’t good. “My lord, I am a governess, not a matchmaker.”

  “That is exactly why I hired you, Miss—”

  “Not yet, you haven’t,” she interjected.

  “Why I hope to hire you,” Nick finished. The girl had an imperious streak, an unusual quality in a servant. For his needs, however, it would be a useful trait. “I wish to hire you to tutor my youngest brother, especially in music. That will comprise the majority of your duties.”

  “But clearly not all of them,” she said.

  “As a governess of your standing, I assume you are an expert in decorum and appropriate social standards.”

  “Of course.”

  “And I also assume you’ve taught those standards to the girls under your care?”

  “I have.”

  “And no doubt those standards apply to young men as well as young ladies?”

  She pressed her lips together, obviously searching for an argument to counter him.