Page 13 of Taming the Scot
The maid barely flinched at all. She simply nodded. “Aye, miss.”
Well, that was indeed much easier than she’d imagined it would be. Bronwen had managed to pass the first day without anyone the wiser to her true self. She prayed tomorrow would be the same.
4
Euan expected the first of his lessons to begin well past dawn, closer to noon. His sisters slept late into the morning, and it was typically the time when the castle was the quietest, and he could get some work done. Or just reflect.
But after his morning walk outside with Owen and completing his breakfast at seven o’clock, he was informed that Miss Holmes awaited him in the parlor. That meant she’d woken before him and had already eaten breakfast. That only added to the mystery of his new governess, and he found himself quickening his step to get to her.
“Good morning,” he said as he entered the parlor.
Miss Holmes was staring out the window. With her back to him, he could see how very slim and fragile she appeared. As if before coming here, she’d been half-starved. The energy he felt from her, which he’d chalked up to nerves, perhaps it was also hunger and determination. There were so many pieces of her he didn’t quite understand, and his curiosity seemed to grow each day.
There’d been a whimsical look on her face when she turned toward him, the last vestiges of her morning ruminating, which she quickly arranged into something more severe upon meeting his gaze. What was Miss Holmes hiding?
“Good morning, Captain,” she said, her tone clipped. She marched away from the window in a way that made him think she had to concentrate on each step.
Today her day gown was a light gray, with the slightest shimmer that made it almost silver and made her eyes appear bluer than the gray they had the day before. She was beautiful but in a way that was different than most of the aristocratic women he met.
“Are ye ready to begin your lessons?” No small talk. The lass wanted to get right into it.
He straightened, offering her a smile, hoping to soften her brittle edges a little. “I am, Miss Holmes.”
She didn’t crack a hint of a grin in return. She was so very uptight. “All right. I have entreated the help of your sister, Maggie.”
Euan glanced about the room for his sister, surprised that he’d missed her, but Maggie was not present.
Miss Holmes waved her hand toward the door. “She’ll be there when we arrive.”
Arrive? “Are we no’ already here?”
Her eyes were pinched as if she had to explain this to wee bairn. “Nay, we are no’.”
How odd. “And where are we going?” Euan crossed his arms over his chest. If the lass was going to be so evasive, then he was going to demand answers.
“Outside,” she said matter-of-factly. “Have ye any visiting cards?”
“They are at my house in Edinburgh. I do no’ do much visiting here in the Highlands.” That wasn’t exactly true. He visited his crofters often, but they did not require that he arrive with a calling card.
She frowned, the plushness of her pink lips turning down. How had he not noticed how full they were before? A stark contrast to the sharpness of her cheeks. “But how are we to pay a call without one, Captain? Ye are quite remiss in leaving them behind.”
Euan was thoroughly confused. But he walked over to the writing desk, opened the letterbox on top and rifled through the contents. “Aha,” he said, plucking out the invitation he’d saved to Alec and Giselle’s wedding. “Will this suffice as a stand-in?”
Bronwen stared at the invitation, her frown still in place. She reached for it, grasping the corner with her thumb on top and the fingers underneath brushing against his own. He was surprised at the naked touch—ladies always wore gloves. More so, he was stunned to find her fingers rougher than those of most ladies. Her nails looked to be bitten down to the quick. She had hands that worked. Fingers that showed signs of fretting. Each added to the puzzle that made up his governess.
When Miss Holmes saw him gaping at her hand, their gazes connected, and her eyes widened as if she’d only now noticed they were bare. A myriad of thoughts passed over her face, and he wanted to soothe whatever worry she seemed to harbor.
She yanked away, turning toward the settee. She lifted her gloves from where she’d deposited them and tugged them on in a jerky, unpracticed fashion.
“Aye, this will work, for now. Apologies for no’ having my gloves on. I was…hot. Let’s go.” She snatched the invitation and stomped toward the door and then yanked it open, heading for the front door, opening that one too.
She was so fast that he had to rush to keep up.
They stepped out into the sun, and Miss Holmes shut the door behind them. Dew made the grass surrounding the castle glisten in the sunlight. She gazed up at the sky, closing her eyes briefly as the sunshine touched her smooth skin. Euan watched her, slightly fascinated by this acerbic creature who seemed to have a dreamy side that she attempted to keep hidden. Except it was the second time this morning he’d caught her in a moment like this. When she opened her eyes, seeing him staring, she immediately frowned—and he tried hard not to laugh.
Miss Holmes cleared her throat, her hands folded in front of her. “Now, we must face the door,” she said. “Like this.”
She stood stoically, chin lifted, spine straight. Euan had the insane urge to tickle her to see if he could get that veneer to crack.
