Page 27 of Taming the Scot
“Well,” she said to Owen, who cocked his head to the side, his soulful eyes meeting hers. “Shall we descend?”
His response was his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, and she took that as an “aye.”
Outside the closed parlor doors, she made out the sounds of movement and murmurs inside. Maggie, Amabel and Lillie were going to join them for tea. The other three girls were having lessons with a tutor who came by a couple of days a week to teach them their reading, writing and arithmetic lessons. She wished she’d been here before the elder sisters. To settle herself prior to starting.
“What are we waiting for?”
She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Euan’s deep voice behind her.
With her hand over her heart, she whirled about to find him standing so close she could smell the spicy, woodsy scent of his shaving soap. “Captain, I did no’ hear ye approach.”
“Came in handy when I was overseas.” He tapped a large, booted foot. “I’m light on my feet.”
“We are no’ at war here.” She studied him, wondering how many scars were hidden beneath the handsome exterior.
“Are we no’?” He winked at her, and she didn’t know what to make of that or the fluttering in her belly.
Bronwen straightened her shoulders, crossed her arms and did a little foot tap of her own. “If ye must know, I was waiting for ye.” The wee fib came easily enough off her tongue.
“How did ye know I was no’ already in there?” He nodded toward the door.
“I looked,” she said, praying he’d not been behind her the whole time to know that was a bold untruth.
“Did ye now? Can ye see through doors?” He was trying not to laugh; she could tell by the twitch of his lips.
So he had been standing there all along, maybe even following her down the stairs. She glanced at Owen, who’d not even made a move when his owner approached. Blast it! “There is a slight crack.” She pointed to the extremely thin line of air where the two parlor doors met.
Euan chuckled, squinting one eye and trying to peer through, which she guessed would be unsuccessful. “It would seem the teacher is more nervous for this lesson than the student.”
Och, she hated him, she decided, except she didn’t. All teasing, all the time, and she couldn’t seem to pretend a single thing other than the fake lessons she was teaching. “I am no’ nervous.” Except she said it with a little wobble in her words that was so irritating.
All the jesting melted from Euan’s face, and he focused his eyes on hers. “We can do the lesson without my sisters if ye prefer. I know we are…a lot.”
Bronwen shook her head without hesitation. “That’s no’ it. I enjoy your sisters. I did no’ grow up with any siblings. And it’s been a pleasant experience.”
“Then what is it?”
The genuine concern in his gaze set off a wave of emotion within her. She was so unused to being cared about that she had no idea what to do with it or the feelings that arose from such warmth of regard. She had the strongest urge to walk into him, to rest her head against his chest, to hear the pound of his heart beneath her ear. To stay there, sinking into his courage and strength, hoping a little bit of it would rub off on her.
Bronwen cleared her throat, attempting to free some of the disquiet in her veins. It didn’t work. So she fell back on what she was good at—evasion.
“I’m just a little tired.” Once more, she skirted the truth, hating how much she’d been doing that lately. She wasn’t a liar by nature, and knowing she was here under false pretenses with everyone being so nice to her was starting to get to her. Since she now possessed a certain book, someone had already figured her out and not given her up—who could be so kind and cruel at the same time?
“We can postpone the lesson,” Euan offered, making her feel worse.
“Nay, that will no’ be necessary. I’m sure I can proceed.” She drew in a deep, steadying breath.
“All right, but if ye wish, know that it is an option.”
Bronwen nodded, reaching for the door handle to open the parlor before she changed her mind, but Euan must have had the same idea. His hand enclosed over hers, engulfing her in the warmth of his skin and the roughness of his callouses. She paused a beat too long and then yanked away.
“I’m sorry,” she grumbled at the same time he said, “Pardon me, lass.”
Bronwen indicated with her hand he should continue opening the door because she couldn’t find her voice. Euan obliged her and then gestured for her to precede him into the room, just like a gentleman. Whoever had told him he didn’t have the manners it took to get a wife was mad because he’d been charming her since the day she’d gotten there. And not in the way he teased about gaining his women. Nay, he’d been sweet and kind and thoughtful. Everything a woman could want.
“Miss Holmes,” Maggie said, standing. Amabel and Lillie did the same, the latter dropping a folded issue of Lady Edinburgh on the table beside her chair.
Owen waited for them to move, and when they didn’t, he trotted in to slump on the floor beside Maggie’s chair.
