“I just never thought of myself that way.”
“How we think of ourselves is often the result of labels that others apply to us, especially when we’re young.”
Kathleen went back to rubbing the mare’s soft nose. “I suppose we sometimes grow into those labels, too.”
“Or try to fit ourselves into someone else’s expectations of those labels?” Sabrina shrewdly asked.
“Tell that to Helen. She would say I do the exact opposite.”
“Your stepmother is completely dreary. What she thinks about you isn’t important.”
Kathleen propped her elbow on the half door and studied her cousin. “Then what is important, Sabrina? Please tell me, because I can’t seem to figure it out.”
Sabrina gently poked her on the chest. “What’s important is how you think of yourself. Everything else flows from that. So, tell me what’s truly bothering you?”
Kathleen grimaced. “I’m in a muddle.”
“And that’s why you’re here. The horses have always calmed you down.”
“True enough.”
The scents and sounds of a stable, the beauty of the horses, and even the gruff comments of grooms hard at work had always been a comfort to her. Life was so much simpler with horses. It was the same with gardening. In a garden or a stable, she could be as solitary and eccentric as she wished, and no one seemed to mind.
They were also the only places where she felt in control of her life.
She glanced at Sabrina, the picture of domestic elegance in a blue kerseymere dress and matching plaid shawl, with not a hair out of place. Her cousin was a woman in control of her life—a miracle, that, considering the complications of running a large estate and a distillery.
“How do you do it?” Kathleen exclaimed. “How do you manage it all without going batty?”
The mare snorted and moved away, clearly disapproving of her little outburst.
“I ask for help when I need it,” Sabrina calmly replied. “That’s something you might think about.”
“I did ask for help with Jeannie,” Kathleen pointed out.
“I meant when you need help, not when someone else does. You tend to go it alone, dearest. I think that’s because you don’t wish to appear vulnerable or not in control.”
“I always said you were the smartest person I know,” Kathleen ruefully replied.
Sabrina tilted her head. “Shall I hazard a guess as to your trouble right now?”
“That shouldn’t be difficult. After all, you told Grant where I was hiding.”
“Only because Angus was preparing to make you a proxy marriage proposal, since he was convinced that his grandson would make a hash of it. Grant had to threaten to lock him in his room to keep him from pestering you.”
Kathleen had to laugh. “That’s ridiculous, if rather sweet.”
“Angus wants you and Grant to be happy. We all want that.”
“I want that too, of course, but . . .” She sighed. “I worry that I’ll make a bungle of married life.”
“Grant clearly does not agree, dearest. He loves you just as you are.”
Kathleen thought of the expression in Grant’s eyes when he proposed to her. “I know,” she softly replied.
“But you still have doubts? That wouldn’t be unusual, even when you love a person.”
It was a surprising admission from her always-decisive cousin. “Did you have doubts about Graeme?”
“Not at all. He needed convincing, though.”
Kathleen covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Sabrina shook her head. “My poor lamb was so skittish that I had to storm his bedroom and attempt, rather clumsily, to seduce him.”
“Good God. How did that end up?”
Her cousin pointed back to the house. “Baby in nursery.”
“Huzzah for you, old girl. But as for me . . . well, I’ve done quite a good job of convincing myself that I’d never get married. It would just be me, my gardens, my horses . . .”
“And Ireland. Kathleen, you do not have to give up all your dreams. Just shift them a bit. I’m sure you could visit Ireland whenever you wished.”
“I suppose,” she doubtfully replied.
Sabrina snapped her fingers. “Perhaps Grant could establish an office in Dublin. Kendrick Shipping and Trade will be setting up one in London next year, so why not Dublin, too? Then there’d be lots of excuses to go to Ireland.”
Kathleen rolled her eyes. “Why would Grant listen to me about something like that?”
“Because he loves and respects you. Kendrick men make a habit of listening to their wives, which is an excellent quality of theirs. Now, what else is bothering you?”
Kathleen stewed for a few seconds before voicing her fears. “He’s so reserved. I chatter away like a magpie, while he imitates a bloody sphinx. How the devil will we ever learn to properly communicate?”
Frowning, Sabrina stared at her feet for several long seconds. “You know that the twins lost their parents at an early age?” she finally said.
Kathleen nodded.
“But what you probably don’t know,” Sabrina continued, “is that Grant was present when his father died. It was a dreadful riding accident, and there was no one else there to help. It was incredibly traumatic for the poor boy.”
Kathleen’s stomach spun into a hard knot. “That’s . . . that’s awful.”
“It certainly was. The Kendricks have weathered many tragedies over the years, but that one was particularly Grant’s. According to Graeme, after his father’s death Grant went from cheerful and happy to quiet and reserved. Much of that has carried over into adulthood.”
“I can understand that.” Kathleen had grieved terribly after her mother died, even without such a shattering experience.
“The point is that Grant’s reserve is not due to a lack of emotion. It’s because he feels emotion very deeply. So he does his best to control it.” Sabrina briefly smiled. “Frankly, we were beginning to worry that he’d never fall in love. But now he has, and he’s tumbled hard. Graeme and I believe he’s holding back precisely because he loves you so much. He doesn’t want to scare you off.”
When put like that, his behavior made perfect sense. “I’m generally not the scaring-off type.”
“Agreed. So the question then becomes, do you love Grant?”
“I do.”
“Then give yourself a chance, dearest—a chance to love and to be vulnerable. Grant will be there to catch you.”
Kathleen thought about it. “And I can be there to catch him, too.”
Sabrina nodded. “After all, that’s what love is truly about.”
* * *
Kathleen stealthily made her way down the stairs. The center hall was deserted at this late hour but, thankfully, a lamp burned on one of the side tables. She’d forgotten her candle and had already bumped into a bloody footstool while sneaking through the darkened house.
Aside from that little mishap, an undisturbed peace reigned in the halls of Lochnagar Manor, with most of the other residents now safely abed.
Grant, however, was not abed. That was why she was creeping about like a footpad.
He’d not been at dinner, either. A neighboring estate owner had found evidence of trespassers on his lands, and Grant had volunteered to ride over and investigate. It made perfect sense that he should do so. But Kathleen had a sneaking suspicion that he was now avoiding her, so as to give her time to think about his offer without pressuring her.
Of course, Grant was now all she could think about, and she wouldn’t get a moment’s sleep until she spoke with him.
Because her bedroom overlooked the back gardens, she had a view of the adjacent stable yard—which meant she’d been able to see Grant’s return to Lochnagar over an hour ago. He’d not gone up to his room, however. She was certain of that, because she’d sneaked two doors down in her stocking feet to knock quietly on his door.
When there’d been no answer, she’d mustered up t
he courage to peek in. His room was dark and the bed untouched. Thoroughly annoyed, she’d promptly gone off looking for him—in her stocking feet, her hair down, and without a candle to light her way.
You’re a ninny.
After a quick glance around the hall, she hurried across the flagstones to the corridor that led to the library. She’d already checked Graeme’s study and the family drawing room, finding both empty. That meant Grant was likely holed up down here, once again going over survey maps to deduce where the gang of thieves might be hiding.
When the light of a candle flickered toward her—and she made out who was carrying that candle—she let out a sigh as she waited for Graeme to reach her.
“Out for a midnight stroll, I see.” His amused gaze tracked her from head to toe. “Looks like you forgot your shoes. And your candle.”
“You know, you can be almost as annoying as your twin.”
He laughed. “Actually, I am much more annoying than my twin. He’s the nice one, remember?”
“And the smart one, I hear.”
“Smart enough to fall in love with you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Some might think that’s a poor show of judgment on Grant’s part.”
“Then some are complete morons.”
She flashed him a wry smile, though what she mostly felt was relief. While the most easygoing of men, Graeme was fiercely protective of his twin. Grant would always be his own man, but Graeme’s approval would be important to him. Kathleen would never wish to disrupt the incredibly strong bond between the brothers.
“Thank you, Graeme.”
“By the way, thank you for working your magic on wee Gus tonight. Sabrina tells me that he was yelling his head off until you got your hands on him.”
“Until he got his hands on my hair ribbons,” she joked, pointing to the tumble of hair over her shoulders.
“My boy knows a pretty lass when he sees one. You’re a miracle worker with him, Kathleen. We’re going to miss you.”
“But I’m not going anywhere.”
“Not even back to Glasgow?”
She narrowed her gaze. “Who told you? I haven’t even spoken with Grant, yet.”
“Nobody told me.” Then he waggled a hand. “Well, Angus did.”
“Of course he did.” She couldn’t help asking, just to be sure. “And you’re all right with it? I mean, with us?”
“Kathleen, you make my brother happy. For that, I will always be grateful. All of us are grateful, and we count ourselves exceedingly lucky you have chosen to be part of our family.”
Her throat grew suddenly tight. “I’m the lucky one.”
Graeme wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her messy hair. “Och, you’re a grand lass, ye ken. Now, go see your man. He’s in the library.”
“Working as usual?”
“Yes, and he’s due for a break.”
She smiled and pressed his arm before moving past him.
“Oh, Kathleen?”
She turned. “Yes?”
“Be sure to lock the door.”
She huffed out a chuckle. “And I thought I was the incorrigible one.”
He walked backward from her. “We’re Kendricks. Incorrigible is our middle name.”
Kathleen was still smiling when she raised her hand to knock on the library door. She stilled, then turned the knob and walked into the room.
The sudden blaze of light made her blink. Branches of candles dotted the tabletops, and a pair of candelabras, one on each corner, sat on the large mahogany writing desk in the middle of the room. A cheerful fire blazed in the hearth, sending warmth and light streaming into the room.
Unlike the study, which served as Graeme’s office for his estate and magistrate duties, the library was given over to reading or writing letters. The room was old-fashioned, with its cozily faded carpets on polished oak floors, and a comfortable sofa on the other side of the desk, facing the fireplace. A soft woolen blanket was draped over the sofa, and plump pillows nestled in the armchairs. Jeannie in particular loved this room and spent a great deal of time here, nose deep in a book.
Right now, though, the room was all about Grant and his search for the elusive bandits. He stood in front of the desk, coat discarded, his hands flat on the littered tabletop as he frowned down at a survey map. In the flickering glow of the candles, his hair gleamed almost as brightly as flame.
Absorbed in his work, he continued to stare at the map. Kathleen indulged herself in covert appreciation of his brawny form and handsome profile. How she’d ever found him a bore was a mystery. She knew now that he was a superbly controlled man who never wasted a word or an action. That quiet intensity was immensely appealing.
“Knock, knock,” she said. “May I come in?”
Grant slowly straightened up and turned to face her, his distracted frown easing into a smile. The smile turned into a grin as he took in her messy hair and stocking toes peeking out from under her skirts.
“Just larking about at this hour, are we?” he said. “But I think you forgot your shoes.”
“I didn’t forget them. I was sneaking. Successfully, I might add, since you didn’t hear me come in.”
“I’ll wager you didn’t sneak past Graeme.”
“You would win that wager. I’d successfully navigated the house only to be tripped up by your annoying brother.”
“He was a spy, ye ken.”
“There wasn’t much spying involved, since I practically barreled straight into him.”
“Bad luck, that. But why the need for sneaking?” He looked at her feet again. “And your poor toes. They must be freezing by now, daft lass.”
“All in a good cause,” she said.
His eyebrows notched up. “Which is?”
She turned the key in the lock before calmly facing him. At least she hoped she appeared calm, because her heart was racing like a horse at full gallop.
“Because I’m going to seduce you, sir. One generally sneaks about when embarking on such a course of action.”
He choked out a laugh. “You are?”
Kathleen waved an airy hand. “Of course, I do not wish to disturb if you’re working. Shall I leave you to it?”
“Only if you want me to chase you down the hall and drag you back.”
“That might be fun, although we’d probably wake up half the house.”
He strolled over—though prowled would be a better description—and joined her at the door. Propping one hand against the wood panels, he leaned down to feather a kiss across her lips.
“It would be worth it,” he murmured.
She rested a hand against the silk of his waistcoat. “You were working, though. I’m sure it’s important.”
“I’d consign every bit of work to the flames if you would be so very kind as to seduce me.”
The heated glitter in his gaze practically set her on fire.
“Not necessary,” she managed to reply. “I shall be happy to seduce you, forthwith.”
He braced his other hand against the door, caging her in.
“And does that mean you’ve decided to marry me, Kathleen?”
She huffed out a breath. “Of course it does, you booby. I hardly seduce men I’m not going to marry.”
“Excellent. Now I won’t be required to hunt down your previous suitors and throttle them.”
She patted his chest. “You can be well assured that none of my suitors inspired in me the least desire to engage in seduction.”
“Excellent judgment on your part, lass.”
“Naturally, you would think so.”
He chuckled, and then started to bend down to kiss her again.
Kathleen pressed two fingers to his mouth. “Before I commence the seduction, I wish to tell you something. I promise it won’t take long, but it’s important.”
He kissed her fingers before curling his hand around hers and bringing it down to his chest. “Sweetheart, you can take as much time as you
need. As eager as I am to be seduced, there is no need to rush or feel any pressure. Whatever you wish to do or not do is fine.”
It was a wonder she didn’t melt right at his feet. “You truly are the nicest man in the world.”
“As we have previously ascertained. Now, come along before you freeze your toes. Nothing is more fatal to lovemaking than chilblains.”
Before she could respond to that bit of silliness, he swept her up and carried her to the sofa.
“Feel free to sweep me off my feet, Mr. Kendrick,” she said rather breathlessly as he lowered her to the cushions.
He took up the fireplace poker and rearranged the logs before adding another one to the flames. “Can’t have you wandering about barefoot, lass.”
She stuck out one foot. “I’m not. These are woolen stockings, very sturdy and warm.”
Still, she was grateful for the heat now pouring out from the fireplace. She’d probably be even more grateful once they divested themselves of their clothing, which would likely happen sooner rather than later.
He joined her on the sofa, settling her under the crook of her arm. Kathleen snuggled against him with a happy sigh.
“Now, what did you wish to talk about?” he said. “The marriage settlements? I must warn you that I’m a skilled negotiator.”
She poked him. “You’re ridiculous. And since we both have quite a bit of money, that will hardly be necessary.”
“But I could be a nefarious fortune hunter. You have only my word that I’m not.”
“Your grandfather is right. You are a jinglebrains.”
“Yes, but I’m your jinglebrains, and that makes all the difference.”
“And here I was all these weeks, thinking you lacked a sense of humor.”
Keeping his arm draped over her shoulder, he turned a bit so he could look down at her. “You weren’t wrong. I’d completely forgotten how to have fun until you reminded me. I bless the day you came into my life, Kathleen Calvert.”
Since both his words and the tenderness in his gaze made her want to cry, she took herself in hand. “If what we’ve been going through the last several weeks is your idea of fun, you’re not just a jinglebrains. You’re a lunatic.”
Grant simply smiled and settled her back under his arm. “All right, lass, what is it you wish to tell me?”
The Highlander's Irish Bride Page 34
