The Highlander's Princess Bride

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The Highlander's Princess Bride Page 16

by Vanessa Kelly


  “Did this man injure you, Miss Knight?”

  His manner was calm, but his gaze glittered with barely contained anger. Oddly enough, that quick blaze of fury warmed the cold bits inside her, remnants of shame and fear that still lingered as a result of the attack.

  She shook her head. “Not in any lasting way, but I couldn’t stay there.”

  His mouth flattened into a hard line, and he stared at the loch for several long moments. When he looked back at her, his gaze remained deeply troubled. “I regret you were subjected to such ugliness. But you now find yourself in a rough and tumble bachelor household, one certainly lacking in decorum.” He grimaced. “This cannot be a pleasant situation for you, given your recent experience.”

  “I assure you, sir, my last position was in a very good household, and that still wasn’t enough to protect me.”

  When he started to protest, she held up her hands. “You misunderstand, my lord. I have no concerns for my personal safety at Kinglas. Your brothers, despite their rough edges, are kind men. Anyone can see they would never willingly hurt a woman or a child. And while your grandfather can be vexing, I believe he’s harmless. Mostly,” she added with a smile, hoping to reassure him.

  His mouth twisted sideways in a smile that looked more bitter than rueful. “It’s the mostly part that worries me. And I’m sure we’re not what you’re used to.” He took his foot off the bench and half turned toward the view of water and sky. “And this place is not exactly Brighton or London. It’s going to get bloody challenging here in the winter, I assure you.”

  She stood and joined him, gazing out at the craggy hills and the narrow, steep-sided glens that rose up to majestic peaks. The bright autumn foliage of a few weeks ago had faded, creating a dappled landscape of browns and grays, broken only by an occasional stand of pines. The breeze off the rippling waters of the loch was crisp, carrying a whisper of the storms that would surely come. She knew there would be days when she longed to escape the cold and the isolation, fleeing back to the civilized bustle of London, or even lovely old Brighton.

  But the Highlands were also incredibly beautiful and different. So different that she could believe this place was helping her to make a fresh start in life. Everything about Kinglas was completely disconnected from her past, and far removed from the ugliness her life had become.

  “Actually, I think it’s splendid here,” she confessed.

  He glanced down at her, surprised. “You do?”

  “Yes. The Highlands sweep away all the dusty, unnecessary bits, don’t you think? And Kinglas is truly a fascinating and noble old place.”

  He exhaled a deep breath, as if something inside him had unexpectedly settled. “I always thought the same. When I was away for all those years on the Continent, it surprised me how much I missed the Highlands.”

  “My lord, if you’re concerned that I’ll abandon my post and flee back to England, you need not worry. I intend to stick it out.” Then she cast him a droll glance. “Still, ask me again in January. My views may have changed by then.”

  “I will.” His smile was approving and warm. So warm it made her blush.

  “And then there’s Kade,” she said, ignoring her fluttering insides. “He’s wonderful. Even if I had to eat haggis every day and sleep in the stables, he would be worth it. He truly is the sweetest boy, and so talented.”

  Arnprior’s austere features softened into an expression that set her heart tripping over itself. He reached up and brushed away a lock of hair the wind had plastered across her cheek. “He’s certainly taken to you, lassie. And no one could blame him for that.”

  “Oh, ah, thank you,” she stammered. She stood frozen, entirely flustered by that simple touch.

  He shoved a hand in the pocket of his leather vest and looked away with a slight grimace, as if suddenly realizing he’d embarrassed her.

  “Yes, Kade has made excellent progress.” He looked back at her, cool and collected, once more the stern-faced earl.

  “I believe he has,” she said, matching his brisk tone. “I have to prod him to spend time on his other studies, though, because he’d spend every moment practicing his instruments if I let him.”

  “He’s always been that way. Miss Knight, I also wanted to ask if the lad has confided anything about the trauma he suffered at school?”

  “No, my lord. It’s clear he’s still reluctant to talk about it.”

  He frowned. “I got the sense when I came into the sitting room the other night that you were having a private conversation about that very issue.”

  Drat.

  Victoria didn’t see the point in dancing around this subject, either. She could respect anyone’s wish to keep secrets, but it was a little hard to continue ignoring the fact that her employer had once been married. “Actually, we were speaking of your family. Kade missed you very much when you were away.”

  “I was gone for too long. It was a mistake,” he said grimly.

  “And he also mentioned how much he missed the countess.”

  He went from brooding to puzzled. “Kade’s mother died in childbirth. He would have no memories of her.”

  “He was speaking of your wife,” she said gently.

  The earl didn’t move a muscle or vary his expression one iota, but she got the odd sensation that her words had just leveled him.

  “I’m sorry if that causes you distress, sir,” she said. “Such was not my intent.”

  He flicked a hand, startling her with the sudden, sharp movement.

  “It’s fine. I wish to know everything that troubles Kade,” he said. “I didn’t realize he even thought about my . . . wife. He was quite young when she died.”

  “He mentioned that they shared a love of music.”

  “Yes, the countess was an accomplished musician. When she actually stayed at Arnprior, she would play for the lad. She was quite fond of him.”

  Victoria found his choice of words and his tone somehow jarring. “Her ladyship did not spend much time at Arnprior?” she cautiously asked.

  “She preferred our mansion in Glasgow.”

  Ah, she recognized that tone. It said: Rough ground ahead. Keep off.

  Before he flicked his gaze out to the loch, Victoria saw bleakness in his expression.

  “I’m truly sorry, sir,” she said quietly. “You must miss her very much.”

  That brought his attention snapping back. “Must I? Yes, I suppose I must. After all, I loved her.”

  Her consternation must have showed in her face.

  He blew out an exasperated breath. “Forgive me, it’s just that—” The earl broke off, frowning as he gazed past her and toward the castle.

  She spun around to see Mrs. Taffy hurrying toward them through the garden, her face crinkled with worry.

  “That does not look good,” Victoria murmured.

  “You have a talent for understatement, Miss Knight.”

  When he strode to meet his housekeeper, Victoria picked up her skirts and rushed after him.

  “Begging your pardon, Laird,” Taffy said, bobbing a curtsy. “But we have visitors, asking for you.”

  He frowned. “We’re not expecting anyone, are we?”

  “They’re customs men,” she said tersely.

  He put up his hands in silent question.

  “They want to ask you about a whisky distillery on Arnprior lands,” she said.

  “We don’t have a—” His mouth clamped shut for a few seconds. “The twins,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “So it would seem,” Taffy replied.

  “And Angus. Is he involved?”

  The housekeeper’s gaze went as flinty as the earl’s. “I’m not sure of that, but I will be by the end of the day.”

  “Goddammit,” Arnprior said. “I will bloody well kill them all.”

  He stalked toward the kitchen garden, little pieces of dirt and dried grass spraying up in the wake of his pounding, booted footsteps.

  “Oh, Lord,” Taffy sighed. “Just
when things were starting to calm down.”

  “I thought it was legal to distill whisky in Scotland,” Victoria said.

  “Not without a license, miss, which the Kendricks do not hold. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d best go see that the laird doesn’t carry through on his promise.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Victoria said, hurrying to follow.

  After all, one murderer in the household was certainly more than anyone needed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Victoria glanced up from her lesson plan when Kade hit another discordant note. The lad stared gloomily at the keyboard as he picked his way through the Haydn sonata she’d given him this morning. Even the new music had failed to lift his spirits.

  After their ripping argument yesterday, Angus had stormed out of Kinglas in a fury while the earl had stormed off and locked himself in his library. Their very public shouting match had all but shaken the ancient timbers of the entrance hall to the ground. Neither man had shown up for dinner, leaving Victoria to make strained conversation with Royal while Kade and the disgraced twins morosely picked at their food.

  When Kade heaved a dramatic sigh and slid her a sideways glance, Victoria put aside her work. She’d always tried to distance herself from the personal lives of her various employers, but her pupil was clearly suffering and needed her support.

  “Why don’t you take a little break and have some tea?” Victoria said, patting the seat next to her on the chaise. “Taffy made some of your favorite seedcakes. It would be a shame to let them go to waste.”

  The boy came to join her. “It is awfully hard to concentrate, what with Nick and Grandda on the outs. They brangle quite a lot, but this is different.”

  “You can tell me all about it, but first you must eat. You barely touched your breakfast or luncheon.”

  “It’s hard to have an appetite when your brother and grandfather wish to murder each other.”

  “It’s just a lot of noise, I’m sure,” she said gently. “And I hardly think starving yourself is going to help matters, now is it?”

  What might help matters would be to line up the Kendrick men and box their ears for being so pigheaded and stubborn.

  Kade accepted a cup of tea. “At least when I’m sick, they usually stop fighting.”

  “Dearest, it’s not your responsibility to solve your family’s problems. It’s their job to take care of you, not the other way around.”

  The boy saw himself as the peacemaker in the family. Generally, that meant just being his cheerful self, since the earl was fiercely protective of his baby brother. But yesterday’s blowup had destroyed the delicate equilibrium of the household. From the shadows under Kade’s eyes, it was clear he’d slept poorly. He’d also lost the appetite he’d started to regain over the last few weeks.

  That was unacceptable, and Victoria intended to tell the earl just that once she worked up the nerve to beard the angry lion in his den.

  “Nick hardly ever loses his temper,” Kade said, echoing her thoughts, “but I thought he was going to bash Grandda over the head.”

  “I thought it was more likely he was going to bash the twins,” she said wryly.

  Kade wrinkled his nose. “It was bad of Grant and Graeme to set up a still, despite what my grandfather thinks.”

  According to the customs officers, the twins had set up a small but thoroughly illegal whisky distillery in a secluded glen on Arnprior lands. While it was a fairly common practice in the Highlands, it could provoke serious legal consequences. Fortunately, the officers had agreed not to press charges after the earl promised to dismantle the operation and punish the twins himself.

  “Well, it is against the law,” she said, “and it was very embarrassing for the earl to be caught so unawares.” Arnprior had clearly been mortified that the twins had been brewing moonshine under his very nose. Even worse, Angus had known about it.

  Kade put down his teacup, looking worried. “The officers aren’t going to come back and arrest them, are they?”

  She gave him a reassuring smile. “No, they’re going to allow the earl to manage the situation as he sees fit, as long as the still is dismantled.”

  “Thank goodness. It would be awful if the twins ended up in the clink.”

  “Indeed,” she said dryly, refilling his teacup. From what she’d seen yesterday, the earl had been sorely tempted to consign the twins and their grandfather to a long stay in the local gaol.

  “And maybe Grandda has a point,” he said thoughtfully. “What right do the English have to tell the Scots what to do and what not to do?”

  “I suggest you disregard your grandfather on that point, dear.” Angus had tried to make that argument after the customs officers had departed.

  “Besides,” Angus had said, scowling at Arnprior, “what else do ye expect of them? The puir lads have to support themselves somehow.”

  The earl had regarded his grandfather with disbelief. “I expect them not to get tossed out of university, and I expect them to learn a bloody profession. Also, I expect their grandfather to encourage them in those laudable and legal goals.”

  “But the lads are learning a profession, dinna ye ken?”

  “Moonshining? Are you insane?”

  “I don’t see ye coming up with anything better,” Angus had retorted before glaring at Victoria. “Oh, aye, except to have herself turn them into a pair of twiddle-poops so they can find some silly twits to marry. No wonder the lads don’t listen to a bloody thing ye say. Who can blame them, running off to war like ye did? As if ye were the only one who grieved, and the rest of us felt nothing.”

  And just like that, the atmosphere in the entrance hall had gone from bad to explosive. After clearly trying to wrestle his anger under control, the earl had suddenly looked as if he were about to strangle his grandfather on the spot.

  “That’s enough,” Royal had barked, limping forward to stand between the two men. “You’re not to say another word about any of that, Grandda.”

  “Ye ken as well as I—” Angus had said hotly.

  “No,” Royal had interrupted. He’d stood nose to nose, giving the old man a threatening glare. Then he’d turned back to his brother with a reassuring smile.

  But the earl’s gaze had transformed into one so bleak and angry that it had chilled Victoria to the bone.

  “Nick, he doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Royal said. “Don’t listen to him.”

  Arnprior had nodded to his brother, then turned on his booted heel and stalked off. Royal had followed him and Angus had slunk away, while Mrs. Taffy had shooed the staff back to their duties.

  Victoria had retreated upstairs to the schoolroom to find Kade immersed in his studies, thankfully unaware of the debacle below. She’d been tempted to ask Taffy for clarification on the obscure charges Angus had leveled at the earl, but had decided it was none of her business.

  Since then, the entire household had held its collective breath, as if they were staring into a simmering volcano, waiting for the final eruption.

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen if Nick doesn’t forgive the twins,” Kade said. “Or Grandda.”

  For the sake of Kade’s peace of mind, it was time for Victoria to take drastic measures, even if it meant interfering in Kendrick family business. “Would you like me to speak to the earl about the twins?”

  He glanced up with a hopeful expression. “Would you?”

  “Yes, and I’ll talk to Royal as well. Between the two of us, perhaps we might even restore civil relations.”

  He smiled at her little joke. “That would be splendid, because I’m worried about Nick. He hasn’t been this upset since—” He suddenly clamped his lips shut.

  “Since when?” she gently prompted.

  He seemed about to answer when Grant charged into the drawing room.

  Startled, Kade almost dropped his teacup.

  Victoria scowled at Grant. “I would ask that you go back into the hall and reenter the room like a gentleman.” />
  “Sorry, miss,” Grant puffed with excitement. “But we have a visitor.”

  “Who?” Kade asked.

  “Logan,” he burst out. “Logan has finally come home.”

  Kade’s face went slack. “Truly?”

  Grant nodded. “He just arrived.”

  “Does Nick know?”

  “Royal’s gone to fetch him.”

  Before Victoria could say a word, Kade flew off the chaise and pelted for the door.

  “Kade, don’t run,” she called after him.

  When his older brother started to follow, she came to her feet. “Grant, please wait one moment.”

  He turned, vibrating with impatience.

  “Tell me who Logan is,” she said.

  “My older brother.”

  “Another brother?”

  “Half-brother, actually. Logan is second oldest, after Nick. His mother was my father’s first countess.”

  Victoria realized she was gaping at him like a trout. “Why have I never heard about him before?”

  Grant shifted uncomfortably. “Because Nick doesn’t like to talk about him. They had . . . a falling out.”

  His lordship didn’t like to talk about his wife, either. The man seemed to have a great many secrets.

  Like you?

  “If you don’t mind, Miss Knight,” Grant said, “I’ve got to go downstairs. I’m not sure what’s going to happen when Nick finds out Logan’s here.”

  She scurried to catch up with him. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Maybe you’d better not,” he said as she hurried beside him in the corridor. “There might be some fireworks. Nick told Logan never to come back to Kinglas. In fact, none of us have seen him in over six years. He’s been in Canada.”

  “Why would the earl exile him?” she asked breathlessly, all but trotting to keep up with his long-legged stride.

  As they reached the landing at the top of the main staircase, he came to a halt so sudden that her soft leather shoes slipped on the polished floors. He grabbed her by the arm.

  “Don’t fall, miss.” Grant had a knack for stating the obvious.

  Annoyed, Victoria pushed an errant lock of hair away from her face. But tart words died on her tongue when she took in Grant’s worried expression. He was normally the cheeriest of young men, impervious to all but the most severe setdown from his big brother. Right now, though, he looked almost frightened.

 

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