Page 101 of The Highlander's English Bride

He’d just caught sight of his twin at the bottom of the room, making his way toward their table. Alarmingly, Grant was alone.

“Where’s Grandda?” Graeme asked when his brother arrived. “I thought he was with you.”

Grant took the empty seat next to him. “Well . . . he rather got away from me.”

Nick frowned. “What does that mean?”

Grant jerked his head toward the opposite side of the ballroom, where King George was sitting. Vicky and Sabrina were still with him, as was . . .

Angus.

The old fellow was planted directly in front of the king, talking a mile a minute and waving his arms. As one, the family members stared at the scene of impending mayhem, bereft of speech.

Ainsley recovered first. “I feel a swoon coming on for the first time in my life.” Clapping her fan shut, she leaned over and jabbed Grant’s hand. “How could you let this happen, you nincompoop?”

“That actually hurt.” Grant rubbed his hand. “Look, have you ever tried controlling my grandfather? He was right behind me, but when I turned around the slippery old codger was gone.”

“Are we absolutely sure he’s not got a ceremonial dirk or knife?” Royal asked.

“Darling, this is no jesting matter,” Ainsley said.

“Who said it was a jest?”

Sighing, Nick rose. “I’d best go see if I can smooth over whatever madness he’s no doubt spouting at the king.”

Graeme stood, too. “I’ll go with you. If nothing else, I can bodily cart him off.”

He was only half joking. Thanks to Angus, the family could be facing social annihilation.

Ainsley scowled up at Graeme. “This is all your fault. You should have known Angus would do something like this.”

“We can apportion blame later,” Nick said. “For now—”

Graeme peered across the room. “Hang on. I’m not sure there’s actually a problem. In fact, they just seem to be chatting. Quite amicably, it appears.”

Royal also stood and stared across the room. “Good God, you may be right.”

As they watched, dumbfounded, the king roared with laughter and clapped Angus on the arm. Their grandfather chuckled and then pointed at the dancers twirling before them. He seemed to be explaining something while George attentively listened.

“This cannot be right,” Nick said.

“I still think we need to go over there. Just in case it goes sideways,” Graeme said.

“We’ll stay here and hold down the fort,” Grant said.

“And hide under the table if Angus erupts,” Ainsley added.

Graeme and Nick were barely halfway across the room when Sabrina rose from her seat next to the king and offered it to Angus. The old fellow immediately accepted and recommenced a lively conversation with George.

Sabrina exchanged a few words with Vicky, who was looking utterly bemused, then glanced up and met Graeme’s eye. Flashing a wry smile, she held up a finger, clearly telling them to wait.

It took but a few moments for her to slip through the crowds to join them at the edge of the dance floor.

“Not to worry,” Sabrina said with an impish smile. “No Angus eruptions on the horizon.”

For a moment, Graeme gave in to the selfish impulse to drink her in. She reminded him of sunshine in her cream-colored, spangled gown, with her guinea-gold hair tumbling gracefully down her neck. He had to resist the urge to tug on one of her glimmering curls. In fact, he wanted to tug her into a dark corner, where he could explore every inch of her sweet body.

Aye, she’d bewitched him, all right. Graeme could only be grateful there were no dark corners nearby, and that his big brother was there to play chaperone.

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