Page 56 of Highland Renegade
“I would like to finish what I started to say.”
“I am nae sure that is a good idea, right now,” Ian said.
Donovan shrugged. “We might as well hear what the countess has to say.”
“She has plans for the distillery,” Broderick added. “Mayhap she has a plan to waylay the dragoons, too.”
Emily wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not, since his expression was neutral, but it almost always was. She decided to continue.
“First, I want to reassure you, as I did when I first arrived, that I have no intention of asking any of you to leave. I may hold the deed, but I want us to work together.” She repressed a sigh when all she got was wary looks. “And, while I do not have areasonregarding the dragoons, I find it illogical to think that King George would be sending them to take away property that—as you pointed out—either belongs to your kinsmen who took other surnames or to me. For once, my being English might be a benefit to you.”
She looked around, making a point to smile at Devon, who didn’t return the gesture. Instead, he drew his brows together. “Ye will never understand. MacGregors have been huntedby the English Crownfor no greater sin than bearing our name for more than two centuries. We are nae animals, even if ye Sassenachs think so!”
“I do not think…” She sighed, not finishing the sentence, for Devon had stormed out the door.
…
Ian caught up with Emily, her sisters, and Fiona as they left the library and headed for the solar. “Might I have a word with ye, Lady Woodhaven?”
“Of course.” She turned to the others. “I will be along shortly.” As they continued on, she turned to Ian. “Why the formal address? Everyone else goes by their Christian names.”
“I was nae sure ye would take kindly to that after Devon’s behavior. I apologize for my brother.”
She tilted her head. “Perhaps we could stroll in the garden?”
He gave her a wary look. Nothing was blooming in the garden this late in the season except a few wild clumps of heather. The day was overcast and damp, so she was certainly not seeking the warmth of the sun. However, the garden was both a place where they could publicly be seen and yet have privacy from servants. Which meant that Emily wanted totalk… An event that most men looked forward to with as much enthusiasm as having a tooth pulled. Still. He owed her that much for not creating a scene in the library where a fracas had nearly broken out after Devon’s hasty departure.
He turned toward a hallway that led to a rear entrance. “This way.”
She followed him silently until they neared a folly in the middle of the garden. It wasn’t especially extravagant or fanciful, simply a small rounded structure with five steps that led to an open-arched entrance. The whole thing was no more than a story high and made of sandstone that had been brought from the Borders. On a sunny day, the little building had a golden glow.
Ian mounted the steps and gestured to a cushioned oak bench inside. Square windows placed at seated eye level every few feet gave a circular view of the garden.
“This is lovely,” Emily said as she sat down. “I have wanted to come here, but it seemed like a special place to which one needed to be invited.”
“In a way, it is.” Ian sat beside her, leaving a proper space between them, since he doubted she’d planned a tryst. His ever-lusty groin tightened at the idea and he pushed the randy thought aside. “My father built it for my mother. She liked to come here for peace and quiet when the daily clan troubles boiled over.”
Emily gave him a sideways glance. “Like today?”
He nodded. “I apologize again.”
“Thank you, but there is no need. It is just going to take longer than I expected for your family to accept the circumstances…to accept me.” She paused. “Well, except for Devon.” She turned to Ian. “I know he was captured by dragoons and that must certainly have been horrible, but what else can you tell me about him? He seems so angry.”
Ian sighed. “Devon is three years younger than me, yet older than the others. Even as bairns, he seemed to feel things more deeply than the rest of us.”
“Then he must have taken your mother’s death hard?”
“Aye. He was a lad of ten. ’Twas the last time I saw him cry. And,” he added, “the first time he ran away.”
“Did someone go after him?”
Ian shook his head. “Da was too devastated to even notice he was gone, I think. And, with the others too young to leave alone, I didna follow him, either.”
“I understand,” Emily said. “When my parents were killed, my sisters had only me to take care of them.”
“And how old were ye?”
“Nine and ten…Juliana was three and ten and Lorelei only eleven.”
