Page 19 of Taming the Scot
“I do no’ think I’m an expert, merely observant.” That was perhaps the most truthful thing that Bronwen had said since arriving.
“Tell me, Miss Holmes,” Euan interjected, leaning forward, his fingers twirling the stem of his goblet. “What have ye observed about us thus far?”
Bronwen wondered if this was a trick question. She ate a large spoonful of soup as she mulled it over. It sort of felt like a coaxing inquiry, but there was little she could do about it if it were some sort of trap. She’d best get on with answering the question so she could change the subject.
After she swallowed an oyster, she wiped her mouth and then said, “Ye’re a family that cares for one another and knows each other verra well. Hard to find, I think.”
She thought of her cousins, of her aunt. At least Emilia and Anastasia had been willing to help her, though she wasn’t certain they would have if their mother was in town. Aunt Sarah had made it clear that she did not care at all what happened to Bronwen on more than one occasion. What had happened between her mother and Aunt Sarah that could make her behave in such a way? Looking at these six sisters sitting here, Bronwen couldn’t imagine any of them doing that to their sister’s child.
“And what else?” the youngest of the brood asked.
Bronwen smiled at her eager face. What was her name again? Raine? She couldn’t be more than thirteen or fourteen. From what Bronwen had learned, Maggie had years ago decided to take up the duties of governess for her sisters. Bronwen wondered if that was something that had drawn them closer together.
“I think your brother has been doted on by all of his sisters,” Bronwen said with a teasing smile in the captain’s direction. “Including ye, Raine, I’m guessing.”
Raine’s eyes lit up. “That’s true. I often try to cheer him up.”
Cheer him up… Was the captain not happy? Bronwen shot him a curious glance, finding he was expressionless. So it would seem the wee thing had divulged a bit of information she shouldn’t have. Most people, when they didn’t want others to read their thoughts, couldn’t hide their feelings as well as Captain Euan Irvine could.
“’Tis true,” Maggie interrupted, drawing Bronwen’s attention. “He is doted on by us, but also by many other females.” His sisters laughed at that. “Euan is a charmer, to be sure, and that is one reason he needs a governess. Ye recall the incident in the parlor earlier.”
Bronwen was certain her cheeks were filled with flames now, enough to light a candle if the wick were held close enough. Because what she recalled the most was how delicious it had felt for his mouth to be so near her flesh.
“A charmer?” she goaded to draw attention away from herself. She scooped up the last of her soup, not realizing she’d eaten the entire bowl.
“From the time he was fourteen, he acted like the man of the house, which he was, but one would have thought he was much older.” Maggie gave a soft laugh and poked her brother in the shoulder. “I remember a time specifically when he invited several of the tenants over to speak with him about their disputes. When one said he didn’t want to talk to a child, Euan said, ‘What, ye think I’m too young? Let’s go have some whisky.’”
Bronwen laughed at that, imagining a strapping young lad saying such to his crofters. “And what did they say?”
“They poured me a cup and helped me into my first stupor,” Euan said with a hearty sigh. “No’ a pleasant affair, and one I was careful no’ to repeat, but I gained a bit of respect from them that day. They thought they were coming to deal with a welp, and I proved to them that I was more than capable of running things, or at least that I had the energy to learn. And it was no’ only because of the whisky,” he chuckled. “I had some good ideas too. I was observant, like ye, and was able to offer up solutions to problems they were facing.”
“Ye’re a good laird then,” Bronwen said.
Euan shrugged. “I do what I can to see that my people are well cared for, that our lands thrive.”
“So much more than that,” Maggie said. “We have Euan to thank for everything.”
“If only—” Lillie started, but a thud beneath the table stopped the words on her tongue. The lass glanced down at her soup, suddenly finding her hunger, and scooping a spoonful into her mouth.
Had someone kicked her into silence? Bronwen narrowed her gaze, resisting the urge to look under the table to find the offending shoe.
Martin took that moment to order the footmen to begin clearing the soup for the next course.
Next course… Bronwen had gorged herself on the soup. How was she to possibly eat more?
The silence grew a little awkward as they waited, and Bronwen started to squirm in her chair. Fortunately, she was saved when they were served salmon with a side of greens, covered in a lemon cream sauce. The food in her mouth was enough to keep her busy.
Trivial chatter eventually picked back up again, and Bronwen watched and listened between bites, observing how the family melded together. The sisters looked at Euan with such love and admiration, and he returned that affection. Perhaps he wasn’t the grumpy man prone to seduction she’d originally thought him to be. There seemed to be a lot more beneath the surface than what he showed outsiders, of which she’d been the day before and even that morning.
And while she was at the table with all of them, she was still a million miles away. A part of the group, and yet not. Watching them interact, she was certain of one thing—she wanted a family, and she wasn’t likely to ever have it.
By the time the dessert came round, Bronwen was so full that she couldn’t eat another bite. She felt as if she’d eaten more in the last two days than she’d had in a year. Her stomach pressed painfully outward beneath her evening gown. When one of the sisters insisted on one bite of custard, Bronwen felt obliged to agree.
However, her stomach was not obliged in the least—it rebelled almost instantly. Bronwen rose quickly from the table as her insides clenched in turmoil. She was going to be sick. Right now.
“Pardon me,” she managed to garble out as she fled the dining room into the kitchens in search of a door outside.
With her hand over her mouth and she was certain was panic welling in her eyes, Bronwen shoved through the door a scullion pointed at.
