Page 21 of Return of the Scot
Jaime was able to clamp her jaw before her mouth fell open. She supposed she deserved that. No one had ever spoken to her so bluntly before. A true lady would have been offended. Might even take him to task for using vulgar language in front of her, but Jaime found she rather liked his use of uncouth tongue, for it showed he thought her more an equal than most men might have considered her.
Still, Jaime found herself pinching her cuff. “My sister was supposed to be in residence, and yet I’ve no’ had any word from her. Did ye happen to notice if she was there?”
Lorne narrowed his brow at her. “If I was at Dunrobin, and I’m no’ saying I was, mind, I would no’ have seen your sister.”
“By choice?”
“Or by Fate.”
“So she was no’ there.” Och, but she hated to play mind games.
Lorne threw his hands up in the air. “I think I’ve made that clear.”
“In no’ so many words.”
“For fear of your retribution upon the staff.”
“My retribution?” Jaime was taken aback by that. What was he insinuating about her?
“Aye, they were told, all of them, to find employment and housing elsewhere. Quite cold of ye.”
“I said no such thing.”
“Alas, they all have, or plan to, follow your instructions.”
Jaime frowned. “So let me see if I understand correctly, Your Grace. My sister was no’ in residence, and the staff have been told vacate the premises?”
“Aye, dismissed.” Lorne made a sharp cutting motion in the air that reminded Jaime of heads rolling with the swift chop of an axe.
Jaime tried to swallow around the lump in her throat, but it only felt like it was getting bigger, and it was harder to breathe.
“Thank ye,” she managed to whisper, backing up toward the door. Her shoe caught, and she lost her balance, falling backward, bracing for the tumble.
But it never came. Instead, she landed in the arms of the duke, his gray eyes boring a hole right through hers.
She felt weightless in his arms and all the more lightheaded.
“I’ve already borne the tricks of one Andrewson female, and I’ll no’ abide by tricks of another,” he growled, righting her. “Ye’d best leave. Mungo.”
The man who’d answered the door appeared as if from nowhere, opened the door, and the Duke of Sutherland lifted her and deposited her on the doorstep before shutting the door in her face.
6
“Do no’ look at me like that,” Lorne said to Mungo, whose expression gave away everything he wasn’t saying.
And then Mungo went ahead and said it anyway. “I do no’ think ye’re going to get what ye want that way.”
Lorne growled, knowing that the man was correct. If anything, now the chit would probably try to contrive a dozen other ways to steal what was his. But when she’d fallen and he’d been obliged to catch her, feeling the warmth of her lush body against his own—his suspicions were raised as to what her intentions were. Shanna would have fallen on purpose, so he had to hold her. So she could entice him with her female curves. What was to say that Jaime wasn’t doing the same? And oh, how he’d enjoyed it. Which only sparked his irritation all the more.
Mungo held up his hands. “I’m no’ an expert in ladies, but from what I’ve heard, they are no’ pleased when dismissed in such a…rude manner.”
Lorne jabbed his finger at the door. “That’s no lady.”
“But she is, Your Grace. The daughter of a viscount is a lady indeed. And she’s one ye need on board if ye’re to get Dunrobin back. Might I remind ye that it is no’ simply the castle at stake, but everyone’s position as well?”
“I do no’ need her on board. Nor do I need the reminder. I take care of those who depend on me. When I left, I told them all to stay put and that I’d take care of it. They have my word, as do ye, Mungo. I’ll have Lindsey draw up the papers and take funds from the trust. Dunrobin will be mine once more, and I’ll no’ need to deal with that hellion ever again.”
“She’s getting under your skin.”
