Page 27 of Sinful Scottish Laird
“He means to show me how to toss a caber,” Ellis said.
“A what?”
“It’s a tree trunk, Mamma,” he said as if it were quite common knowledge.
“A tree trunk,” she repeated and glanced at Cailean. “You might show him how to toss something a bit more manageable, mightn’t you?”
“A Highlander doesna toss things that are manageable—we leave that to the lassies and theSassenach. Lord Chatwick and I have discussed it, and we have decided that we shall toss a caber or be damned trying. Is that no’ so, lad?”
“It is,” Ellis said, looking suddenly and fiercely determined.
Lady Chatwick smiled and put up her hands. “Far be it from me to interfere with the work of men. Ellis, darling, it’s time you had your supper. Will you go and find Mr. Tuttle?”
“Aye, Mamma,” he said. He stood up, bowed stiffly to Cailean and made his way across the room.
Lady Chatwick watched him go, then glanced up at Cailean, her eyes wide with surprise. “Aye?He said aye!”
“There is hope for him yet, then.”
She smiled warmly, and Cailean felt it swirl through him. “Thank you,” she said. “And I mean that quite sincerely. He’s been despondent, really. The landscape is intimidating so he doesn’t venture far. He’s charted all the stars so—”
“He’s what?”
She laughed softly. “He’s developed an interest in navigation.”
Because of Spivey?
“And, curiously, rocks,” she said with a lopsided smile. “He’s collected several. I’m very happy that he has something to look forward to. Although, I am a bit concerned that he might harm himself tossing tree trunks about.”
“Milady?”
Lady Chatwick shifted her smiling green eyes from Cailean to the butler.
“Supper is served.”
“Yes, thank you.” She turned back to Cailean and stepped a little closer, tilting her head back to look him in the eye. “My son has a delicate nature. Please remember it.”
Cailean leaned slightly forward, bending his head over hers. “And he’ll be a delicate man if you donna let him away from your side.”
Her smile deepened. “Are you now advising me how to raise my son?”
“I’m advising you to allow him to toss a caber or two.”
She lifted her gaze from his mouth, her smile sparkling in her eyes and in Cailean’s blood. “Have you any further advice for me, Arrandale? Or have you delivered it all?”
His looked at her, at her smooth skin, her cheekbones. And her mouth, painted red for the evening. He tried to imagine the faceless English captain kissing those lips and felt a slight hitch in his gut. “Aye, I do. Keep close watch of your purse.”
Now the dimples appeared. “Why,thankyou, sir. I cannot imagine how I’ve carried on as I have without you to direct me.”
Cailean couldn’t help his smile. “Neither can I.”
She smiled with amusement. Cailean could feel a draw of energy from somewhere deep within him, which was broken the moment she looked away. “Please excuse me—I must play the part of gracious hostess now.” She glided away from him, her skirts brushing against his legs as she passed, the scent of her perfume lingering in her wake. Her fingers trailed over the back of the settee as she moved to her uncle’s side to announce supper was served. Oh, this woman—she knew very well how to tease a man without as much as lifting a finger.
“Astonishing, is it no’?”
Cailean looked to his left. Mr. Murray had sidled up to him and was eyeing Lady Chatwick shrewdly. “What is?” he asked.
“That she has come to the Highlands at all, aye? Seems passing strange to me that a lady of her means and situation would waste as much as a day in these hills. I suppose she means to negotiate a devil’s bargain and trade Auchenard for a husband.” He sipped smugly from his whisky. “It meets all the stipulations of her husband’s will.”
