Page 7 of Highland Renegade
Emily turned at the sound of Ian’s voice behind her. He and his brothers still wore the same clothing they had earlier in the day, which was a relief, since their own baggage had not been unpacked from the wagons yet and they remained in their traveling clothes. After what Fiona had told her, she suspected not delivering the trunks promptly was another ploy to make them uncomfortable, but obviously dressing for dinner was not a main concern.
“I am glad they were not separated.”
“Too many of our clan are still forced to hide in the hills. Some have sought refuge in Ireland.” He pointed to the girl Emily had seen on her arrival. “That one—Glenda—is my ward, since her parents were killed trying to flee.”
Emily looked at the girl seated at one of the long tables close to the dais. She appeared to be perhaps four and ten at the most and she was watching them sullenly. “It must be hard for her.”
“I’ve tried to help her adjust to the change,” Ian replied.
“And other changes, too. Hopefully, soon,” Rory said. “Lord Mount Stuart will see to it.”
Emily drew her brows together. “The son of the former prime minister, Lord Bute?”
“Aye. He’s already talking up members of Parliament to restore our name…andour lands,” Rory answered. “So ye shouldna plan to stay—”
“I am quite sure I have not been the first to tell you that you are quite rude,” Juliana interrupted.
He grinned. “Do ye nae want to add a ‘bloody’ to that?”
She glared at him. “Barbarian.”
His grin widened. “Is that the worst ye can do?”
“Please! Do not encourage her.” Emily leveled a look at her sister. “We do not intend to be rude, either.”
“Aye, well. We have manners, too,” Alasdair smiled at Lorelei and offered his arm. “May I escort ye?”
For a moment she looked flummoxed and then she smiled prettily while Juliana rolled her eyes. “I suppose you might.”
“And allow me to escort ye,” Ian said to Emily, extending his arm as well. “We have a table especially reserved for ye.”
Emily put her hand on his sleeve, not surprised that his arm felt like steel beneath it. Oddly, the sensation sent a tingle up her arm. She didn’t have long to ponder on it because she heard Juliana behind her.
“I do not need assistance,” she practically hissed.
Rory chuckled. “I just dinna want to see ye sprawl on your face again.”
“I did not sprawl!”
“Aye. Because I caught ye.”
This sounded like it was going to escalate, but before she could turn around, she heard Carr’s voice, soothing as a zephyr wind.
“If ye will allow me, Miss Caldwell, I’m sure Rory can find his own way.”
There was an audible sniff. Then, “Thank you.” Emily gave a silent sigh of relief.
“It seems my brother and your sister are peas in a pod,” Ian said as they walked toward the dais.
“Juliana can be a bit bristly.” She had her own reasons for that, but Emily wasn’t about to disclose such personal information. “But she has a kind side, too.”
“Well, a symbol of Scotland is the thistle,” Ian replied, “but it does have a pretty flower.” Before she could respond, he stopped and gestured. “Here ye are.”
She wasn’t particularly surprised that the small table he’d led her to was in a corner off to the side of the dais. After what Fiona had shared, she hadn’t expected to be seated as guest of honor on the dais. But Ian was watching her covertly, probably wondering if she were going to protest. She affected one of Lorelei’s smiles, the one she used with beaus in ballrooms. “This is just perfect. We can observe without being noticed.”
“That’s…good, then.” His expression didn’t change, but one brow lifted almost imperceptibly. “And is your room to your satisfaction?”
Given that there were better-appointed bedrooms—not to mention an actual bathing room—in the newer part of the castle, he was well aware that it was not. But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of complaining about the room or, for that matter, the lack of hot water, either.
