Page 28 of Taming the Scot
Bronwen nodded to each of the sisters, studying their faces to see if there was even a tiny bit of a hint about who might have left her the guidebook.
Was it Lillie? Seemed like something the lass would procure, given her propensity for the rag. She probably owned many books she wasn’t supposed to have. Bronwen rather liked that about her.
“Good afternoon,” Bronwen said as she curtsied, the way she’d practiced in her bedroom. She didn’t even wobble this time, and she was quite proud of that.
Then she turned to Euan, who bowed to his sisters as if he were a guest before they both proceeded to take their places around the tea table. Now, the lessons she’d learned from observing the sisters, and what she’d read in the guidebook, were about to be exposed, and she prayed she’d memorized them all perfectly well. Or that at least, the gossip amongst the siblings would cover up the inevitable gaffes she was about to make.
Miss Holmes chattered with his sisters as she poured them each tea, making the occasional glance at him. If he wasn’t mistaken, each time her gaze landed on his, a little pink tinged the bones of her cheeks, which had become less sharp since the day of her arrival.
The haunted, hungry mien had lessened as well, though she still looked conflicted in every interaction. He’d written a letter to his friend Lorne Gordon, the Duke of Sutherland—husband to Jaime, who owned Andrewson Shipping Company—asking for the address of Emilia so he might thank her for sending her cousin to him. Shortly after, he had received a reply from Lorne, along with a gift for Bronwen from her cousin, which he’d slipped under her door. Emilia had allegedly begged that her gift remain secret, and he still wondered what it was, though he guessed it was a book.
Lorne had also divulged a secret Emilia shared with him, which had not surprised Euan all that much, considering his observations. Bronwen was in trouble and had needed to escape Edinburgh, which was why Emilia had pointed her in his direction.
That was why she’d jumped at the knock at the door, why she couldn’t seem to pull herself away from the window. The poor lass expected whoever it was she’d been running from to find her. To harm her in some way. Why anyone would want to do that was beyond him. She’d only been sweet and kind since the moment she arrived. Helpful to him and embracing his sisters for all their quirks.
A fierce need to protect her filled him. Made his chest swell and burn, and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to tuck her into a shielding embrace and soothe whatever terrors plagued her.
Euan admired her tenacity. She’d needed help and, instead of merely finding it, had decided to work for it. And he couldn’t help but applaud that. From all outward appearances, Bronwen Holmes was a generous lass with a good heart.
Given her background—much of which was still a mystery—it made sense that she made so many etiquette mistakes thus far. She was not a governess, even if she seemed knowledgeable. But he’d give her high marks for trying. He grinned, watching her splash a little cream over the edge of the cup.
“Here ye go, Captain.” She handed him the teacup. “Now, hold it just so, and lift to your lips. No slurping.”
Bronwen held her pinky aloft, quite a bit higher than he’d ever seen anyone do. But as he looked at his sisters, they were doing the same thing.
“Like this?” He tried to keep a straight and serious face as he lifted his pinky while he sipped.
Bronwen nodded approvingly. “Aye, like that.”
Maggie, Amabel and Lillie glanced between him and Bronwen, their faces void of what they were thinking, thank God. He’d told them over breakfast, since Bronwen wasn’t present, that she was not a governess but a lass in need of help. They were to go along with her lessons if only to keep her ruse up, so she felt safe until they could uncover what kind of misfortune had befallen her and how they could help her.
“Now for the sandwich.” She picked up a cucumber sandwich and passed him one with her fingers instead of on a plate, but Euan simply took the sandwich rather than utter a word.
“What if I do no’ like cucumbers?” he asked, pinching the sandwich between his fingers as she had.
“Who does no’ like cucumbers?” She frowned at him.
“The Duke of Sutherland loathes them.” Euan grinned.
“Really?” She stared at him with true interest, then down at her sandwich, inspecting it as if it were something strange. “That is not something I’ve ever heard before.”
Euan shrugged and chuckled. “Do no’ fash. I like them quite well.”
“I’m no’ certain that I do,” she said softly. Then she took a little nibble, biting around the sandwich in a ring.
When she caught him staring, she indicated that he too should eat his sandwich. He popped the whole thing in his mouth.
Bronwen swallowed her bite and gaped at him. “Och, nay, Captain. That is something ye might do on your own, but in the presence of ladies, ye must eat with delicate intention.”
“Delicate intention?” He grinned with amusement. “Just as ye have?”
“Aye.” She nodded and nibbled again.
Euan picked up another sandwich triangle and nibbled off the edges. “Am I doing it right?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, tilted her head. Her hands fell to her lap, where Owen quickly started to lick her fingers. “Are ye mocking me, sir?”
“I would never.” But he couldn’t help the teasing glint that surely showed in his eyes.
