The Highlander's Princess Bride Page 5

  When the housekeeper narrowed her irate gaze on Angus, he blushed. There was only one person at Kinglas who could corral the old man, and that was Taffy, who’d been with the family for decades.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Angus muttered. He stomped off to the kitchens, the dogs trotting happily behind him.

  Quiet finally returned to the hall. Nick didn’t think he imagined Miss Knight’s sigh of relief.

  “This is Mrs. Taffy, our housekeeper,” he said. “She’ll take care of all your needs.”

  Taffy gave Miss Knight a kind smile and bobbed her head. “It’s a pleasure, miss. I’ll do my best to make your stay here comfortable.”

  Miss Knight gave Taffy a sweet smile in return. It seemed to light her up from within, turning her porcelain features from pretty to beautiful. He registered a slight shock at the realization before forcing himself to shrug it off. He had no interest in her looks, only in her abilities.

  “Perhaps you could escort Miss Knight to her room to set aside her things,” he said more brusquely than he intended. “Then she can join us in the east drawing room for tea.”

  When Taffy grimaced again, Nick sighed. “Is there some difficulty?”

  “I’ve had to switch Miss Knight to a different room,” she said. “The chimney in the blue bedroom started smoking.”

  Nick frowned. “It’s never done so before.”

  If there was one thing he and Angus agreed on, it was the importance of keeping the chimneys and fireplaces clean and in good repair. Winters in the Highlands were cold, damp, and long. Winters in a drafty old castle on a loch were even worse. Without reliable heating, the household would be miserable for months.

  “Something seems to have got caught in the flue.” Taffy’s tone told Nick everything he needed to know. Something hadn’t got caught. Something had been deliberately placed in the flue with the intention of causing mischief.

  He had a good idea who the guilty party was.

  “I apologize,” Nick said to his guests, resisting the impulse to gnash his teeth. “This seems to be a day for domestic calamity at Kinglas.”

  “Might I suggest, sir, that you have tea while I see to a new room for the lady,” Taffy said. “The maid will unpack her bags, and we’ll have everything set to right in no time at all.”

  “That sounds splendid,” Alec said in a hearty voice. “I’m famished, and I’m sure Miss Knight would relish a cup of tea.”

  “Or a sherry,” the governess muttered in a barely audible voice. Then, no doubt realizing her slip, she blushed an enchanting shade of pink.

  Despite his foul humor, Nick couldn’t help smiling. “I’m sure sherry could be arranged. Or even perhaps a stiff dram of Scotch. I wouldn’t blame you for needing it after our less-than-stellar welcome.”

  She gave him a smile that finally reached her eyes, calling notice to the fact that they were a rather spectacular shade of blue.

  “Thank you, my lord, but a cup of tea will do just fine.”

  “I’ll send Andrew in with the tea things,” Taffy said. She bobbed a curtsy and hurried off to the back of the house.

  “This way,” Nick said, nodding toward the central stone staircase.

  Robert, the castle’s youngest footman, scurried from his position by the front door and preceded them to the first floor, turning right to the east wing and the main drawing room. After bowing them through the door, the lad went off to fetch the tea tray.

  “What a splendid place you’ve got here, Arnprior,” Alec said, taking in the spacious, Queen Anne–style drawing room.

  This wing was hundreds of years newer than the main tower house, and had yet to start crumbling around their ears. The scrolled walnut furniture and the red and gold fabrics were rather dated and too grand for Nick’s taste, but the sixteenth-century tapestries on either side of the stone-surround fireplace, with their depictions of royal hunting parties, were magnificent. Taffy had managed to fill several tabletops with late-blooming mums in warm yellows and deep reds that matched the tapestries.

  The best part was the view of the loch. The ornamental gardens behind the castle and the lawns running down to the water were already steeped in shadows as evening approached. The last glimmers of sunshine danced across the loch, making the whitecaps glitter like crystals flung from a giant’s hand.

  Miss Knight headed straight to the windows. Although her slim build emphasized fragility rather than strength, she carried herself with a graceful confidence Nick found reassuring. Most ladies that tall often minced, seeking to minimize a characteristic considered unfeminine.

  “This is a breathtaking vista, my lord,” she said, casting him a quick smile over her shoulder. “I had no idea Castle Kinglas was actually on the water.”

  “It’s our constant neighbor,” he said. “One that is much more accommodating in the summer, I might add. The winter storms on the loch can be fierce.”

  “I won’t mind,” she said. “I miss the ocean, and am glad to be near water again.”

  The door opened and Angus stomped in, followed by Robert and Andrew. The footmen lugged in the tea things, along with a tray loaded with cakes and pastries. Cook had managed to pull off a decent tea.

  “You grew up by the ocean, Miss Knight?” Nick asked politely.

  She returned to join them in the center of the room. “Yes, in Brighton. My cousins and I spent as much time by the seaside as our parents would allow. It was always a treat.”

  “Och, Brighton,” Angus said with contempt. “Where Prinny and those bloody royal dukes lark about with rakes and ladybirds, spending money they dinna have. I ken we’d be better off if they drowned in the Channel.”

  Miss Knight paused in the act of pulling off her gloves, her features freezing in offended lines. Even Alec looked irritated, but his natural father was one of the royal dukes, although that wasn’t widely known. Nick was surprised, however, that Miss Knight was so thoroughly starched up, since the Prince Regent and his brothers were generally reviled. Angus’s comment was crass, but the sentiments were hardly uncommon.

  Then again, Miss Knight seemed something of a high stickler, which was one of the reasons Nick wished to employ her.

  “Careful, Mr. MacDonald, or I’ll have to arrest you for treason,” Alec said dryly.

  Angus flashed him a grin. “Why, I’d be doin’ the country a service if I took the whole lot down myself. The prime minister would probably give me a medal, and any good Scotsman would be filled with pride.”

  “I hardly think the prime minister or anyone else would thank you for expressing such a distressing opinion,” Miss Knight said tartly. “I find that sort of remark deeply offensive, as would any person of sense.”

  Robert and Andrew froze in the process of setting up the tea tray, staring at Angus with something akin to alarm. Like Nick, they knew exactly what was going to happen.

  Angus spun to face the girl, a gleeful smile creasing his wrinkled face. “Of course ye would. What else would anyone expect from a Sassenach? Ye like nothing better than grinding yer boot heels in the faces of good Scottish men and women. Well, let me tell ye, lassie—”

  “No, Angus, you will not tell anyone anything,” Nick interjected. “And we can leave the discussion of Scottish nationalism for a time when Captain Gilbride and Miss Knight are not a captive audience.”

  He regarded the Prince Regent as a disgrace to his family and his country, but he’d served under the Duke of York and had found him to be a fair and capable commander. And engaging with Angus was asking for more trouble than it was worth. Still, the governess had to learn to deal with the old fellow sooner or later. Nick wouldn’t always be around to come to her defense.

  Nick’s grandfather scowled back at him, and for a few moments they waged a silent struggle. Finally, Angus grumbled his surrender and subsided into his favorite chair by the fireplace.

  “Thank you,” Nick said. “Miss Knight, would you be so kind as to pour the tea?”

  She ignored his request, con
tinuing to glare at Angus as if she might storm up and bash him on the head. What the devil was wrong with her, anyway? Angus had certainly stepped out of line, but her response seemed exaggerated.

  “Miss Knight, if you have finished arguing with my grandfather, I repeat that I would be greatly obliged if you would pour the tea,” Nick said in the voice he’d used on insubordinate junior officers.

  She flinched, and her gaze jumped to meet his. Her cheeks flushed a pale pink, but then her frown smoothed into a polite, bland expression—the one that the best sort of servants adopted when what they really wanted to do was throttle their employers.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord,” she said calmly. “I certainly didn’t wish to offend you or Mr. MacDonald.”

  “Of course ye did,” snipped Angus.

  “No, Mr. MacDonald, she did not,” Alec said sternly. Then he looked at Nick with a cool, warning gaze. “I trust you realize that as well, Arnprior.”

  Something was going on here that Nick didn’t quite understand. While Alec knew better than to take grumpy old Highlanders too seriously, his friend clearly felt a high degree of loyalty to Miss Knight. If he didn’t know Alec was absolutely devoted to his wife, he might even think the two were romantically involved.

  That was nonsensical, of course, but something about Miss Knight was definitely off.

  “It’s perfectly fine, Captain Gilbride,” she said. “Please, if you’ll all be seated, I’ll be happy to serve tea.”

  She glided over to the tilt-top table where Andrew and Robert had set up the tea, giving them a sweet smile that prompted the footmen to grin back like besotted fools. Nick made a mental note to remind Taffy to give the male staff a stern warning when it came to Miss Knight. The last thing he needed were his men tripping over their own feet as they mooned after some winsome English lass. It would be hard enough keeping his brothers Graeme and Grant from flirting with her.

  As if on cue, the door flew open, and the twins charged through. Unshaven, and garbed in kilts, leather vests, and muddy boots, they looked like younger versions of their grandfather. All they needed were dirks in their belts and tams on their heads to complete the picture of wild Highlanders.

  In truth, they were simply boisterous lads, a little lost but trying very hard to be men—good men, if Nick had anything to say about it. But thanks to a combination of factors, one being their grandfather’s influence, his brothers were kicking over the traces with disastrous results. It was why he’d been desperate enough to reach out to Sir Dominic for help. The wily magistrate had sent him Victoria Knight by way of reply, and Nick sincerely hoped she had the temperament and fortitude to do the job.

  Graeme swaggered into the room with Grant following closely on his heels. They came to a stop a few feet in front of the governess. Since the twins were well over six feet, she had to tilt her head back to look at them.

  “We’ve come ta meet the new lassie,” Graeme said, in a brogue so exaggerated Nick wanted to either laugh or murder him. “We heard she was a rare beauty, even if she is a Sassenach.” He punctuated his comment by waggling his eyebrows in what he obviously thought was a flirtatious manner.

  I’ll definitely have to murder him.

  Miss Knight’s dumbfounded expression transformed into one that mingled horror and outrage. If Graeme kept it up, Nick predicted that the first act of their new governess would be to box her pupil’s ears.

  Grant dug his elbow into his brother’s side, obviously wanting in on the fun. He was never the lead, but willingly followed in Graeme’s reckless footsteps.

  Making sheep’s eyes at the poor woman, as if he were about to launch into a serenade or a love sonnet, Grant pressed a hand to his heart. “How lucky can two fellas get ta have such a bonny teacher? We promise ta be the best pupils ye ever had, and mayhap we can even teach ye a thing or two.”

  Miss Knight’s only reply was a choking noise that sounded like someone was strangling her.

  Chapter Four

  Victoria’s breath caught as she realized the magnitude of the task looming before her. Both Sir Dominic and Alec had been deliberately vague in describing her new duties, and now she knew why. To live in a remote Highland manor with a family of brash men would be daunting. While the earl was obviously a gentleman, though grim to the point of unwelcoming, Mr. MacDonald was another matter entirely. Unwelcoming couldn’t begin to describe his behavior.

  But it was now also clear she was actually expected to teach the Kendrick brothers—well, something. And, good Lord, who knew what other ghastly surprises were in store when the rest of the brothers finally surfaced?

  “These must be the twins,” Alec said, stating the obvious. The young men were the proverbial peas in a pod.

  Her cousin had stood and inserted himself between her and the strapping young brothers, as if to protect her. At the moment, however, the only people needing protection were the twins. She was sorely tempted to box their ears for behaving like utter cads.

  The earl rose, looking rather like Zeus, with thunderclouds roiling about his head and lightning sparking from his noble brow. “Yes, I regret to say these sorry specimens are my brothers.”

  He stalked over, crowding the twins step-by-step toward the fireplace. By the time the young men’s shoulders hit the edge of the mantelpiece, their mischievous expressions were more those of sheepish boys in a great deal of trouble.

  “We were just excited to meet the lassie,” the twin on the left said, the obvious leader. “We meant no harm at all, Nick.”

  “Aye,” chimed in the other one, nodding his head so vigorously his unkempt red hair flopped in front of his eyes. “No harm at all.”

  “First of all, you will cease using that absurd brogue,” the earl ordered. “You were raised in a gentleman’s household, and you will speak and act like gentlemen. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Nick,” they said in chorus. Their almost incomprehensible accent had already diminished, now simply coloring their voices with a hint of the Highlands. Victoria suspected they’d been putting it on, probably to annoy her.

  Who in his right mind could expect her to tutor these grown men? That was not what she had agreed to in coming here.

  “Secondly,” Arnprior continued, “you will not refer to the lady as either lassie, Sassenach, or any other disrespectful term. You will address her as either Miss Knight or ma’am. Is that clear?”

  Two red heads bobbed in unison. “Yes, Nick.”

  Arnprior nodded tersely and took a few steps back. The twins’ shoulders came down from around their ears. They were obviously a handful, but it was clear they respected their older brother—perhaps even feared him.

  Victoria shifted in her chair, suddenly uneasy. The earl was a stern man who demanded respect, as she would have expected from someone who’d commanded a military regiment. But she hoped he wasn’t cruel or angry, because she’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. Even the lure of money or a sterling recommendation couldn’t compel her to stay under his roof if such was the case.

  Arnprior propped his hands on his hips, perusing his brothers with a look that now spoke more of resignation than anger. “And I suppose you were so eager to greet Miss Knight that you couldn’t take the time to change instead of coming here looking like unwashed field hands?”

  “The lads were just muckin’ about with a bit of honest work,” said Mr. MacDonald. “There’s no need to be naggin’ at them.”

  The old man had been surprisingly quiet the last few minutes. Perhaps even he’d been startled by the earl’s fury and had thought better of getting involved.

  Arnprior shot him a hard look. “And where, pray tell, have they been mucking about? More to the point, were you mucking about with them?”

  “Aye. I took them to old MacBride’s. He needed help with some of his sheep pens, and the lads offered to lend a hand.”

  “Repairing sheep pens?” Arnprior said sardonically. “That doesn’t sound like the lads. Normally, they’re getting into the kind
of trouble that requires me to make financial restitution to some unfortunate soul.”

  “Nick, old man, there’s no need to embarrass us in front of the lady,” protested one of the twins.

  “Gosh,” said the other with a comical grimace. “You’re making us look like a pair of jingle brains.”

  The earl snorted as he took in their pleading expressions, then flicked a glance to the stone-faced Mr. MacDonald. A fraught silence stretched out, broken only by the crackle of flames and the hissing of resin in the grate.

  The twins, now rather red-faced, peered nervously at their grandfather. Clearly, there was something amiss, something Victoria thought the earl was trying to puzzle out.

  “Let it go, Nicholas,” the old man finally said. “At least for now.”

  Turning from his grandfather, Arnprior lightly cuffed the nearest twin on the shoulder. “You’re both daft lads. And you’ll be the death of me yet.”

  His brothers grinned at him with affection and relief. “We know, but you love us anyway, don’t you?” said the cheekier one.

  Arnprior let out a short laugh. “God knows why. Now, come meet Miss Knight properly, and remember your manners.”

  When he turned back to her, the storm had fully passed and a glint of humor now lightened his gaze. The gleeful smile the twins exchanged behind his back, as if they’d just pulled one over on their big brother, also went a long way to relieving her concerns about Arnprior’s temperament. She suspected his stern demeanor was necessary to keep his chaotic household under some semblance of control.

  Since Victoria also hated chaos, she sympathized with his desire to impose order.

  “Miss Knight, I would like to introduce my brothers. This is Graeme,” the earl said, gesturing to the brasher of the two. “And this is Grant.”

  Graeme’s bow was the more flourishing, as was the smile he flashed. He would be the bigger problem, since he clearly fancied himself a charmer.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Knight,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”