Page 23 of Taming the Heiress
"Oh ma leddy," Mrs. Berry protested, "Please, dinna let the man think I am Lady Strathlin!"
"He already thinks it," Meg said, noticing that Thora hastily retreated, having delivered the news, and now crossed the beach to join Elga, holding small Anna. "Just let it be for now, Mrs. Berry," Meg went on. "I will tell Mr. Stewart the truth... later."
"Well... fine for now, but I canna talk to a man when I'm in my swimming costume!"
"You do not need to speak with him. I will tell him that you value your privacy." Meg glanced over Mrs. Berry's shoulder at Dougal Stewart, who walked toward them.
"Oh, verra well. I'll just go back in the water for a bit." Dropping the blanket and lifting the stiff skirt of her black, long-sleeved bathing tunic, worn over knickerbockers and high laced slippers, Mrs. Berry walked down to the surf's edge. Meg smiled a little watching the governess's haughty posture as she eased herself into the waves. Berry rather liked playing a baroness—and might do a better job of it than Meg herself, she thought.
As Stewart walked closer, Meg steeled herself. Could she look at him, speak to him this time without feeling that ache of loneliness and wanting, without remembering tenderness and betrayal?
She realized again how much the father resembled the son, despite Iain's hair being blond like her own. They had features and eye color in common—and charming smiles. Iain would someday develop his father's build, with long muscled legs, a powerful torso, wide shoulders. She would give the man his natural beauty. At least their son had inherited that.
Iain called out and held up another shell for her to see, and she picked up her leather-covered book and walked over to him, bare heels sinking in damp sand.
"Oh, that one is lovely, Iain," she said, as he dropped a broken conch into a bucket. Together they bent to study some tiny, nearly transparent fish in the water. Lifting her skirts, Meg stepped into the water and laughed with her son as the little fish tickled past their ankles.
"You must draw these in your book," Iain said.
"I will," she said. She set the brown leather volume on a dry shelf of rock.
"Hello, Mr. Stooar!" Iain said. Meg turned, heart slamming.
"Good day, sir," she said stiffly.
"Miss MacNeill, good day to you." Today he wore a dark gray suit with a blue brocade vest and a black neckcloth. He looked as if he had come calling. He smiled at Iain. "Did you collect all these shells yourself?"
"Aye, look!" Iain set his wooden bucket on a rock. Dougal Stewart leaned forward, holding out his hand while Iain lifted a few slimy snails and plopped them into the man's palm. Stewart admired them and put them back. Then Iain handed him a few tiny crabs, and he and Iain laughed to see one of those endeavoring to escape.
"Oh, I think this fellow deserves a chance," the engineer said, and set the crab down near the water. "Go on, wee mon, back to your family." Inspired, Iain set the rest of his captured crabs free. He and Dougal bent to watch them scuttle away.
Dougal Stewart rinsed his hand in the water, splashing near Meg's bare toes, for she still stood in the shallow pool. Aware that he stared at her feet, she dropped the hem of her skirt so quickly that it soaked in the water.
Why bother with modesty now? she thought. The man had seen all of her—she had no physical secrets from him. Looking up into his gray-green eyes, she saw that he recalled just that, and she felt herself blush fiercely. Ducking her face under the shade of her straw hat, she stepped away and sat on a rock, covering her limbs and feet with her brown skirt and petticoat.
"Is that why you came to this side of the island, sir?" she asked coolly. "To rescue crabs and snails?"
"I'm glad to be of service to someone. At least the snails and crabs on Caransay will think kindly of me."
She gave him a sour look for that.
"I was just out for a stroll on a bonny day," he said. He bent to pick up a shell, which he offered to Iain.
"Doing more puzzles in your head?" She wanted to seem cool, detached, but seeing him with Iain made her heart beat faster. He wiped sand from his hands, then brushed Iain's hands.
That melted her heart. But she could not surrender. She frowned, looked away.
"I see that Lady Strathlin has come to Caransay," he said.
"Mmm," she said with studied disinterest, as she pressed some of the water out of the sopping hem of her skirt.
"Now that she is at Clachan Mor, perhaps I can call on her soon." He glanced toward the water, where Berry paddled contentedly in the gentle waves, her swimming costume ballooning around her. "I seem to have found her at a most inconvenient time."
Iain giggled. "You found her! Hasn't he, Cousin Meg?"
She glanced down. "Iain, the hole you dug over there is filling fast with water. You had better go save it."
Iain started off, turned. "May I wade in the water, Meg?"
