Page 30 of Taming the Scot
To get closer to him, she skirted the table, but Owen chose that moment to dart for the door. Bronwen tripped right over the animal, tumbling into Euan’s lap. The roundness of her bottom—quite a bit fuller than he would have expected, given her waifish appearance—landed squarely on his groin. He caught her, arms encircling her waist and back, her left breast crushed to his chest. God, it felt good to have her in his arms, even if it had been by accident. Their eyes locked, and the look of horror that filled her face was too much for him to bear.
Euan started to laugh, holding onto her to prevent further calamity as Owen hurried to the parlor door. “My God, that’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” he teased.
Bronwen sat up and shoved the linen napkin into his laughing mouth, glowering at him. “A gentleman does no’ laugh at a lady. Especially one who is trying to help him.”
That only made him laugh harder, and she glowered deeper. And then, without thinking, he yanked the napkin from his mouth and leaned closer to her, needing more than anything to feel his lips pressed on hers. The lass’s eyes widened but she didn’t pull away.
But just as his lips were about to brush hers, the door to the parlor burst open. They yanked apart, both their heads swiveling to see Maggie standing on the threshold, her eyes wide, mouth agape.
“Pardon me, brother, but is that any way to treat Miss Holmes? Quite indecent.”
Bronwen leapt from his lap, taking the warmth and happiness he’d felt a moment ago with her. “I agree. Ye should apologize, Captain.”
He grinned like a fool. “Why did ye interrupt, Mags?”
“A letter came for your governess.”
8
Providing escort for four of his sisters to a country dance was tantamount to torture. There were gobs of material everywhere. Lace, ribbons and muslin. He’d sat in the carriage in a sea of feminine dress and wasn’t certain he’d ever swim out of it.
Euan would have much preferred being at home with Esme and Raine, who’d balked for hours at not being of an age yet to come at sixteen and thirteen respectively. One of his ears was still ringing from the shriek of betrayal, which felt a mite too exaggerated for his taste.
It was only at Bronwen’s intervention and promise of their own dance party at Drum Castle that he’d been able to extricate himself from the female breakdown. A good swig of whisky did the trick of calming down his abused senses.
As his good friends Lorne, Alec and Malcolm were in Edinburgh, it was with some difficulty he managed a conversation with the older gentlemen present. And thankfully, given the advanced age of the majority of the crowd, the dance ended at a mostly reasonable hour, rather than the wee hours of the morning that he was used to with high society balls.
Maggie, Lillie and Skye had plenty of dances, but Amabel seemed content to fade into the wallpaper when she wasn’t chatting pleasantly with the more mature ladies present. She’d always had a rapport with the elder generation, which had helped him tremendously with their crofters and those in the village. But he would have to help her cross over the line of sister and wallflower into a potential bride at some point. After all, she was twenty-four. Once Maggie’s nuptials were handled, he’d help Amabel. One stubborn sister, content to hover over him for the rest of her days, was hard enough to deal with at a time.
Upon arriving home at Drum Castle, his eyes were drawn to an illuminated window on the west side. All the rest of the castle was dark, save for the outdoor torches by the main door and those at the gate.
Bronwen’s room.
He’d not expected to see any of the bedroom windows lit up, especially hers, with how tired she’d expressed herself to be earlier in the day, but perhaps the late hours she kept were the very reason. It might be a good idea for him to inquire if her mattress needed replacing, although they’d given her the nicest of their guest rooms.
Euan grasped Maggie’s arm as they climbed the front stairs, waving Amabel, Lillie and Skye toward the door.
“Oh, must we?” Lillie said, standing up on her tippytoes. “Sounds as if ye’re about to have a riveting conversation.”
“Inside,” Euan said. “I’m certain ye’ll hear all about it later.”
“Promise?” Lillie asked, then hurried in with Amabel and Skye.
“Mags, did ye happen to catch the return address on the letter that came for Miss Holmes today?”
Maggie raised a brow at him and shrugged out of his grasp. “If I did, it was no’ my business to see.”
He only stared at her, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for her to furnish him with the information he sought. This was no time for her to teach him a lesson. Or to evade his question out of some perceived loyalty to Bronwen, though he rather liked that she was trying to. Very endearing, actually.
Maggie rolled her eyes. “Ye have a large ego enough, brother. Let it go.”
“Ye fully understand the reason I must know.”
Maggie’s shoulders sagged. “It was from her cousin, Emilia, if ye must know.”
Euan sighed in relief. He was worried that whoever she’d run from had figured out where she was and that they’d have imminent visitors.
“And ye ought to mind your own business,” Maggie said. “That should be a lesson ye learn.”
