Page 41 of Return to Clan Sinclair
“Ardan and Breandan will be there,” the duke said, grinning. “But I’ll be right beside you. Ceana needs to see a friendly face when she’s rescued, not an ugly one.”
He only nodded, but when this was over, he and the duke might be going a few rounds.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Ceana didn’t know who was more surprised when a strange man opened the carriage door and stared at her.
“You aren’t one of my brothers-in-law,” she said. “Are you even from Ireland?”
He didn’t answer her, only turned to her abductor, standing there hat in hand.
“You stupid bastard,” he said calmly. “This isn’t Virginia.”
In the next moment she realized who he was.
To her surprise, Paul Henderson wasn’t unattractive. In fact, he was quite distinguished-looking, with silver hair and a youthful face. His brown eyes held an emotion she couldn’t discern. Perhaps it was impatience. Or even casual cruelty, like a man who could run down a dog in the street and not even bother to look back.
When he smiled at her, Ceana felt fear like a kitten’s claws traveling up her spine.
“Who are you, madam?”
“My name is Ceana. I’m Macrath Sinclair’s sister.”
He blinked at her slowly like a lizard. Thanks to Darina, there were a few in their menagerie at home. All of them looked friendlier than Henderson.
She unpinned her locket and showed him the pictures.
“These are my daughters, Darina and Nessa. They’re in Ireland right now, at Iverclaire, where I live. Darina is almost ten and Nessa is seven. I would very much like it if you would release me so I can go home to them.”
He didn’t say a word. Instead, he flicked a hand at the giant, turned and led the way to the back of the manor house.
She sent a glance toward her abductor, to find him staring at her. A glint of something was in his eyes. Intelligence or compassion? Either way, it was too late for that.
The giant grabbed her elbow and escorted her inside the house.
The kitchen was cavernous and empty, smelling of onions. If Henderson had a cook, she wasn’t in evidence. Nor was a maid, from the state of things as they followed him. Dust covered the table in the hall, and the windowpanes were streaked from the last rain.
Henderson escorted her to a sitting room he’d evidently prepared with Virginia in mind. She’d never seen so many roses, all stuffed into vases of every size and description.
She loved roses but the scent of all of them, red, pale pink, yellow, was nearly taking her breath. Her sister-in-law loved roses, but this was a bit excessive.
He turned and walked across the room, rudely sitting in a wing chair before motioning her to the settee.
“Where is Virginia?” he asked.
“At Drumvagen,” she said.
He didn’t say anything for a moment. “I remember you,” he said. “You used to visit her in London.”
She didn’t recall him, but she inclined her head in recognition of the past.
He flicked his hand in the air and the giant vanished with what she thought must be a sigh of relief. Evidently, he wasn’t going to be punished for his mistake, or at least not in front of her.
“I would really like to go home now,” she said.
“Would you?”
She nodded. The kitten’s claws were digging in.
