Page 6 of The Highlander's English Bride

The woman crouched next to the slender girl, who looked to be a few years younger than her mistress. “Hannah must have fainted when I was attacked.”

“How helpful of her.”

“The poor thing obviously suffered a terrible shock.”

“You’re the one who suffered the shock. This one didn’t even scream or try to help,” Graeme said.

She started to pat the girl’s cheek. “That is disappointing, but Hannah just came up from one of our country estates a few weeks ago. She finds London intimidating.”

“Maybe you should give her a good shake. That might wake her up.”

“I don’t suppose you have any smelling salts?”

“I normally carry them right next to my pistol, but I seem to have forgotten them just this once.”

She flashed him a scowl. “There’s no need to be sarcastic.”

“Really? I would disagree.”

The whole situation was now officially beyond ridiculous. They were as wet as drowned hens, he’d lost his man, and he was beginning to grow concerned about Tommy. If the lad had taken any foolish risks, he’d never forgive himself—and Aden would probably kill him and be done with him once and for all.

“I do generally carry smelling salts, but they were in my reticule,” she said.

“Perhaps the thief will find them useful,” Graeme acerbically replied.

“Instead of making such unhelpful comments, perhaps you might do something useful instead.”

“Such as?”

“You could drip on Hannah’s face. That might do the trick.”

When he laughed, it pulled a rueful smile to her lips. “There I am being rude again,” she said.

“I canna blame you one bit,” he replied. “But fortunately your girl seems to be recovering.”

Hannah let out a moan as her eyelids fluttered open.

“Oh, my lady,” she said faintly. “I was sure you were dead.”

Ah.Not simply genteel. The drenched lassie was a member of the Quality.

“I’m fine, although quite wet,” her mistress replied. “Why don’t you try to sit up?”

When Graeme reached down to help, the maid let out a faint shriek. “He’s still here, my lady. He’ll kill us both!”

“Hannah, this gentlemansavedme from my attacker. Now do please try to sit up.”

They helped the maid to a sitting position and propped her against a tree.

“Are you sure he won’t hurt us, my lady?” Hannah quavered, peering up at Graeme. “He looks a dodgy sort.”

“Calling him a dodgy sort is hardly going to endear him to us.”

“But who is he?” the maid asked.

Her mistress glanced over her shoulder, lifting an eyebrow at Graeme.

He sketched a brief bow. “I’m Graeme Kendrick, at your service.”

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