To Catch a Highlander (26 page)

She shrugged. "I didn't sleep well."

"You haven't slept well since you won back the deed." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I'd have thought that would be cause for celebration, myself."

"It's the rain. It's been going on for three days straight, and it's making me blue as a megrim."

Red patted her hand. "Lass, you haven't been sleeping or eating. You're wasting away, ye are."

"You," she corrected. "And once this rain stops, things will go back to normal."

"It's not the rain, Sophia."

"Then what is it?"

"Dougal MacLean."

She yanked her hand from her father's grasp. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You have feelings for this man," Red insisted.

"I do not!" she said hotly. "Dougal MacLean is an arrogant, conceited, hard-headed arse."

"Your mother, bless her soul, often said the same of me. Still does, in fact, in her own way. But that doesn't explain why you're pining away."

"I am
not
pining away."

"Very well. Then what
are
you feeling?"

Sophia twisted her hands together. "I'm… I'm embarrassed. I was angry and hurt, and so was he. I didn't have the chance to explain why—" She flushed. "It's not important."

"It is important, or you wouldn't be so upset. Lassie, there's only one thing to do: go after him."

Sophia blinked. "What?"

"Go after him and have your say, whatever that is. Time's passed, so you'll both be calmer. Perhaps he'll be in more of a mood to listen."

Tears filled her eyes. "No," she said quietly. "He'll never be in the mood to listen to me. Red, I—I cheated."

Red blinked. "Ye did what?"

"Not when Dougal and I were wagering on the house, but afterward, when—" She caught her father's gaze and blushed. "It doesn't matter."

"What were you wagering on?"

She sighed. "A kiss."

"Damn it to hell!" Red clamped his lips together for a long moment before asking, "And what were you wagering this kiss against?"

She bit her lip.

"Och, lassie," Red moaned.

"Now you know why I cheated. I didn't wish to lose. I was afraid I might like it too much."

Red slapped a hand over his eyes and muttered under his breath, "Och, Beatrice, what do I say to that?" He dropped his hand. "Look, I don't know if this is the right thing, but—some people might think it is, so I'll take a chance. MacLean is at his sister's house, which is a mere day's ride from here. Pack your bags, and tell him what you need to tell him."

She twisted her hands together. "And the deed?"

"What of it?"

"I think… I think he deserves to keep it. We did everything to attempt to trick him. At the time, it seemed important, but now…"

"Lassie, do you mean that?"

She nodded. "We could sell the brandy in the cellar and use it to begin again somewhere else."

"And you'd do that? Move away from this house?"

"At one time, I thought the house was everything, because it represented Mama. Now I wonder if perhaps you and I aren't what represents her the most."

Red clasped his hands to his chest and looked at the ceiling. "You were right all along, my love!"

Sophia frowned up at the ceiling. "Red, what—"

"Never mind. Lass, I agree with you completely. If it'll give you some peace, then give the deed to MacLean, and speak your mind."

"And then?"

He took her hand. "And then come home, and we'll pack our things." He smiled and released her. "Now, go. Tell Mary that she and Angus are to travel with you and to watch you like trained hounds."

"But I can't just show up on MacLean's sister's doorstep and demand to see him! It would take me a whole day to get there, and—"

"Yes, you can. And what's more, I daresay his sister will invite you to stay. She's known for her generosity, but if she doesn't, I know plenty of people around
Stirling
. I'll write the directions to one of them for Angus in case that should happen."

Was Red right? Would she never have any peace if she left things as they were? What if MacLean wouldn't listen to her? What would his sister think if she showed up uninvited, looking like some sort of brash female chasing down Lady Kincaid's brother?

Sophia's cheeks burned at the thought, but no more than her heart ached. What a horrid coil.

The culmination of the passion that had simmered between them since their first meeting had been inevitable; she'd known it and had desperately wanted it.

She only wished it hadn't come in the midst of such a horrid misunderstanding.

And if she didn't explain everything to him, he would forever think the worst of her. And that was the most painful part.

She swallowed and said, "Red, you are right. I'll tell Mary to pack right away."

"You'll take Angus with you, too. For protection."

She started to protest, but he held up a hand. "If you leave within the hour, you can make it by nightfall. With this rain, I wouldn't wait longer. The stream is close to covering the bridge already."

Sophia had to smile. "Anxious to get rid of me?"

"Aye. I'm tired of seeing your long face over the breakfast table."

She laughed a little. "Red, I don't understand. Why are you so insistent about this?"

"Because if anyone knows the cost of lost opportunity, it's me. Sometimes you have to grab life by the horns and ride it, even if it tries to throw you. I don't want to see you spending the rest of your life wincing every time you say this man's name."

Which she would do. She felt stripped, exposed, raw. Red was right; if she didn't have her say to Dougal, she'd spend the rest of her life regretting it "Red I love you."

He beamed. "You ought to. I'll expect you back within a few days with a full report."

"Of course. But who will care for you while I'm gone?"

"I'll stay with the squire."

She stood and dropped a kiss on his cheek. "Good. I'll go and pack now."

"When you get to Lady Kincaid's house, don't leave until you've had a chance to talk to the man, even if you have to drag him by the ear. It may take a bit of persistence."

Sophie grinned, feeling better already. "That I have in abundance."

A man who thinks he doesn't need women is a man damned to cold sheets, lumpy porridge, and the bitter taste o' loneliness.

Old Woman Nora from
Loch Lomond
to her three wee granddaughters one cold evening

"I am quite out of patience with him." Fiona Kincaid set her teacup on the small tray with a decided click. "Dougal's been in a horrid temper since he arrived."

"I like him better this way." Fiona's handsome husband retorted. "He barely said a word over breakfast."

She gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm surprised you two don't get along better, as you're very similar." Jack's flat stare made her add hastily, "In
some
things."

"In
very few
things." He glanced out the windows at the wet garden. The rain had fallen so hard that many of the flowers had been beheaded, their wet petals strewn over the puddle-filled paths. "It's been two days, and it's still storming."

Fiona poured more tea into her cup. "The weather definitely came from him. I could feel it the second he arrived." She made a face. "I had quite given up on him showing for our house party; almost everyone has already left."

"I hope they all leave soon." Jack's gaze traveled possessively over Fiona. "I don't want you subjected to hostess duties any longer than necessary."

She smiled at her husband. "Other than Dougal, we've only four guests left, so there's not much for me to do. Unfortunately, most of the eligible ladies have gone, which leaves Dougal without a dinner partner. Seating will be awkward."

"Seat him beside the judge's wife. That would make her happy, at least."

"I will do no such thing!" Fiona said hotly. "That woman is a virago. I only invited her because her husband has been doing some wonderful work with the orphanage in
Hampton
, and I wished to re-create his methods here in
Stirling
."

"From the way Mrs.
Kent
kept asking when Dougal would arrive, I suspect there's a bit of history between them."

"I wouldn't be surprised. To give him credit, Dougal hasn't been encouraging her, though he could hardly do so with her husband present."

"If he were interested, Dougal wouldn't let that trivial detail keep him away." Jack caught his wife's reproachful look and laughed softly, caught her up hand, and pressed a heated kiss to her soft palm, then curled her fingers over it "Fiona, my love, as much as I adore you, I cannot stand your brothers. Any of them."

"Gregor is much nicer now that he's married. Even you must admit that."

"Only when
Venetia
is with him. When she's not, he's as annoying as ever."

Fionas lips quirked into a smile, her green eyes gleaming. "Rather like you, I hear."

"Who has been carrying tales?"

"Everyone." She placed her hand on her husband's cheek and smiled up into his blue eyes. With his dark auburn hair and devastating good looks, "Black Jack" Kincaid had once been the scourge of
London
's polite society. Now he was her own personal scourge, one she couldn't imagine living without.

He chuckled and dropped his napkin onto the table. "I believe I shall go to the nursery and read a story to our son. Would you like to come with me?"

She smiled and stood, taking her husband's arm. "Of course! He's getting so big. I can scarcely remember when he was a wee babe, and—"

A soft knock sounded on the door, and Perkins, the butler, entered. "Pardon me, but a Miss MacFarlane has arrived for your brother, Lord MacLean. Unfortunately, he has not returned yet."

"Returned?" Fiona frowned. "Where has he gone?"

"I believe your brother went for a ride immediately after breakfast." The butler looked disapprovingly out at the rain.