Page 38 of Sinful Scottish Laird
Somerled did not.
Cailean moved to pull the boat onto shore with Lady Chatwick in it. “Oh dear, the oar has broken,” Lady Chatwick said as he helped her out of the boat. “Will one suffice?”
“You have none,” Cailean said as he helped her onto higher ground, then pointed to the loch, where the second oar was floating serenely with the current, on its way to the sea if it was not caught by the shore.
“We’ll have to carry it,” Somerled said stiffly as he splashed out of the loch. He avoided Cailean’s gaze, his cheeks flushed with the shame.
“What good fortune that we would find Arrandale here to help us,” Lady Chatwick said and smiled up at Cailean. “It’s a great surprise,” she said sunnily. “I thought perhaps you’d fallen off a hill or had been eaten by wolves for we haven’t seen you at Auchenard in an age.”
“I’ve no business at Auchenard,” he reminded her.
“No one hasbusinessat Auchenard,” she said, “and yet Mr. Irving MacDonald and Mr. Somerled have been kind enough to call.” She glanced at Somerled, who returned a tight smile.
“Then you’ve been well occupied and didna need my call at all, aye?”
“Oh, I have beenverywell occupied,” she said pertly, her gaze narrowing slightly. She turned away from him. “We were just rowing in,” she said. “Mr. Somerled says it will rain. Will you come and join us for tea?”
“No.”
“No?” she echoed over her shoulder, clearly surprised someone might possibly refuse her invitation.
“I need to fish.”
“But Mr. Somerled can’t carry the boat on his own. And we’ve plenty of fish!” she exclaimed. “My uncle is quite obsessed with it, and every morning he returns from the lake with a string of them.”
Did her smile have a hint of challenge in it?
“Perhaps the laird has other things he must attend to, aye?” Somerled suggested.
Well, then.Cailean slowly turned his head to Somerled, who stood soaked from the crotch down. “No, I’ve naugh’ to attend.”
“Wonderful!” Lady Chatwick said happily. “Shall we, gentlemen?”
Somerled clenched his jaw and turned around. “I’ll take this end,” he said, gesturing to the boat.
They hoisted the small rowboat above their heads and walked around the bend and through the trees the short distance to Auchenard. They stored the boat in the small inlet where it was kept. By the time they’d secured it, Mr. Kimberly was striding down to the water’s edge.
“Uncle, look who has come!” Lady Chatwick said brightly as she dabbed at her chest with a handkerchief. “We had a bit of an accident. The oars were lost.”
“The oars were lost!” her uncle echoed loudly.
Another rumble of thunder sounded closer, and a gust of wind lifted the hem of Lady Chatwick’s gown.
“Oh, and Lord Arrandale wasn’t able to fish,” she said, ignoring the worsening sky. “Surely we’ve enough to share with our neighbor?”
“I salted some very fine trout this morning,” her uncle said proudly. “Come up, then. The sky looks as if it will open at any moment.”
Lady Chatwick looped her arm through her uncle’s and began to walk up the lawn to the lodge, chattering about the boat, the loch, the crash and broken oar as if she’d read the tale in a novel, while the two men trailed behind.
Somerled stalked along behind her like a sullen lad. Cailean mentally kicked himself for having let his pride get the best of him, but he was enjoying Somerled’s pique so much that he carried on, bringing up the rear.
Rowley met them on the terrace with Lord Chatwick, who stood shyly with his hands behind his back. Somerled ignored the lad altogether, but Cailean smiled down at him, put his hand on his shoulder. “Have you practiced your caber toss, lad?”
Lord Chatwick shook his head. “I’ve no one to help me.” He glanced warily at Somerled, who was speaking to Mr. Kimberly, almost certainly explaining how it was not his fault the oars were lost.
“Mr. Somerled had an unexpected swim,” Cailean muttered, and Lord Chatwick smiled.
Miss Hainsworth emerged from the lodge then, hanging out the door as if afraid to step onto the terrace. “Come in, all of you! It will storm at any moment and you’ll all catch your death!”
