Page 43 of The Lyon and the Unicorn
“Careful, lass.” Murdo caught her hand. “I wouldn’t want ye tumbling out.”
The carriage hit a rut and lurched sideways, and she fell into his arms, laughing. Unable to resist, he lowered his mouth to hers. The duchess averted her gaze, but the smile on her lips spoke of her approval.
In fact, both the duke and duchess approved. When the duke had ordered Murdo into his study, he’d imagined the older man challenging him to a duel. But, after questioning Murdo’s intent, he grasped Murdo’s hand in a surprisingly firm grip and told him that were he to make Clara happy, then he had his blessing.
The moment had then been tempered by a soft-voiced affirmation that, were Murdo to harm a hair on Clara’s head, the duke would hunt him down and shoot him like a dog.
But if anything, the threat—or rather,promise, given the determination in the duke’s eyes—made Murdo respect him even more. Irrespective of whether Clara was his daughter by blood, the man loved her with a ferocity capable of bringing a battalion to its knees.
As the carriage reached the castle and drew to a halt, Clara stiffened and straightened in her seat.
A lone woman stood before the entrance. She came forward as Murdo opened the carriage door.
“I was wondering where ye’d got to, lad,” she said. “Yer letter said ye’d arrive before noon, and it’s after six.”
“We stopped for luncheon at an inn.”
“The Covenanter in West Newton?” She shook her head. “Why waste yer money when there’s a perfectly good meal waiting for ye at home?”
“Forgive me, Joan,” he said.
“It’sMrs. Grantwhen we have guests, lad,” she said. Then she pulled him into an embrace. “Welcome home. Well, where is she? Let me take a look at her.”
Murdo exited the carriage then held out his hand. “Ye can come out, Clara.”
She climbed out, slipping on the bottom step. Blushing, she dipped into a curtsey.
“Pleased to meet you,” she said.
“Och, lass, I’m only the housekeeper!” Joan said. “Let’s take a look at ye, then. Aye, ye’re a bonny thing, all right. I can see why ye’ve captured the young master’s heart.”
“This is Clara,” Murdo said. “My fiancée.”
“I know that from yer letter,” Joan replied. “Though ye’d best wait until the laird’s taken a look at her before ye address heras yer fiancée.” She smiled at Clara. “For appearance’s sake, no more, lass.”
Clara’s mother emerged from the carriage. Compared to her blushing, nervous daughter, the duchess exuded a dignity that commanded respect, and the housekeeper lowered into a curtsey.
“This is my fiancée’s mother,” Murdo said, “the Duchess of Pittchester.”
“I-I hope ye enjoy yer stay here, ma’am,” Joan said.
“I’m sure we will, Mrs. Grant,” the duchess replied.
“Well, come inside and I’ll send Brodie to see to yer trunks.”
“Isn’t Duncan about?” Murdo asked. “They’ll be too heavy for Brodie.”
“Duncan’s been on the moors all day. Callum can help Brodie.”
“Where’s James?” Murdo said. “Or my da? I thought they’d be here to greet our guests.”
“Yer brother will be with Duncan. As for yer da, he’s visiting the McCallum. Furious he was when he left, so I daresay he’ll not be back until morning, now.”
“Why was he angry?”
“He insisted James accompany him, to see Shona McCallum. But James disappeared before breakfast. I swear those two will come to blows before James settles down. But yer da will be delighted ye’ve chosen a bride—and ye’ll be wed in time for the Lughnasadh festival.” She patted Murdo’s arm. “I always said ye’d beat yer brother to the altar. Perhaps there’ll be less need for James to take a wife, now.”
“James will do his duty,” Murdo said.
