Page 22 of The Highlander's Holiday Wife

Braden nodded. “I should change, first.”

Donella emerged from the back hall. “No need to rush. You can change when I send Pippa upstairs. She’s much less likely to fuss if you take her up to the nursery.”

Pippa, a sweet-tempered four-year-old, was the least fussy child Braden knew.

Over the years, he’d developed excellent instincts when it came to his family. At the moment, his instincts were giving him a good thump between the shoulder blades.

“Why are you all trying to manage me?” he asked.

Donella simply gave him an innocent smile. No one did innocent better than his sister-in-law, but he wasn’t fooled.

Angus heaved a dramatic sigh. “Och, laddie, yer growin’ paranoid. That’s what comes from workin’ so hard. Yer picklin’ yer brain, which canna be—”

“Why don’t we pickle our brains with a nice whisky,” Kade said as he steered Angus toward the staircase. “I hear you just got a new batch from our Graeme’s distillery.”

“Yes, Logan says it’s quite excellent,” Donella brightly replied.

Braden followed the others up the stairs, listening to their cheerful—and disingenuous—conversation about Graeme’s thriving distillery business. The more he listened, the more he became convinced that some plan was afoot. This visit was not a spur of the moment decision by any means.

Logan was ensconced in a leather club chair by the drawing room’s fireplace, reading his paper. “Ah, finally. I thought I’d have to drink all this splendid whisky myself.”

Pippa, who’d wedged herself into the chair beside her father, shook her head. “That would be bad, Papa. Mamma would have to scold you for being a scaly hog grubber.”

Donella scowled at Angus. “You’ve been here less than an hour, and you’re already teaching Pippa cant?”

“Me? I never teach the bairns rough words.”

“Grandda, you do it all the time,” Kade said.

Joseph walked into the room, catching the tail end of the conversation. “Grandda knows all the best swear words.”

Logan snorted. “Aye, he always had a talent.”

Angus pointed a finger at his great-grandson. “Laddie boy, yer not to be sharin’ any of our secrets. It’s breakin’ the code.”

“There is no such code, and you’ve never been able to keep a secret in your life,” Braden dryly noted.

Donella eyed each of the males. “I would still like to know who is teaching my daughter inappropriate language.”

“Papa,” Pippa replied with lethal candor. “But he told me not to tell you.”

Logan winced. “Oh, bloody—”

Donella whipped up a hand. “Do. Not. Goodness, husband, I expect better of you.”

Braden snorted. “Mistake number one.”

“Of course I didn’t actually teach her,” Logan explained. “She just overheard me talking to one of the grooms.” He did his best to look contrite. “Sorry, love. I promise it won’t happen again.”

She scoffed. “It will absolutely happen again. You are a very bad man, Logan Kendrick.”

“I’ll show you just how bad I can be the next time we’re alone,” he said with a grin.

Joseph grimaced. “Ugh. Papa is trying to be romantic again.”

“Are you in trouble, Papa? I’m sorry if I got you in trouble,” Pippa said, placing her little hand on his arm.

He winked at her. “Papa is usually in some sort of trouble. Grandda might have to take me out behind the mews for a paddling.”

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