Page 47 of The Highlander's Princess Bride
“Do you mean it, Nick?” Grant asked, looking boyishly hopeful. “You’ll really help us?”
“Of course,” he said. If he could persuade Victoria to help, at least something good would come out of his foolish impulse.
Sometimes, Nick could hardly believe the twins were old enough to start their own families—old enough to do something meaningful with their lives instead of acting like callow youths, tumbling from one mishap to the next. It had been a mistake to leave them without guidance for so long, with only Angus to ride herd.
Only last Sunday, they’d been caught breaking into the kirk with the intention of stealing the weekly collection. They’d done it on a lark, without a thought for the consequences. Nick had been forced to make a large donation to the kirk’s building fund to make up for their bad behavior,andpromise the vicar that his entire family would start regularly attending services.
As for the twins spending so much time helping Angus with estate business? Nick had serious doubts about that.
“Pah,” scoffed his grandfather, puffing on his clay pipe. “As if the laird doesn’t have better things to do than teach ye how to prance about like a pair of ninnies. It’s bloody ridiculous.”
“I quite agree, Mr. MacDonald,” Victoria said, finally finding her voice.
Clearly, things had come to a sorry pass when the poor girl had to rely on her mortal enemy for support.
“Will wonders never cease,” marveled Angus, his bushy white eyebrows reaching up to his hairline. “The Sassenach agrees with me. Well, that’s it, lads. Miss Knight willnotbe teaching ye to dance, so ye’d best get over this nonsense of acting like bloody Englishmen.”
Graeme and Grant looked so crestfallen that Nick had to swallow a laugh.
“You misunderstand me, Mr. MacDonald,” Victoria said. “I meant that it wasn’t necessary for the earl to inconvenience himself. I’m perfectly capable of teaching the twins how to waltz without his help.”
“You mean you’ll do it?” Grant asked with comical hope.
“It would seem I don’t have a choice.” Her little scowl and disapproving sniff when she glanced at Nick were adorably grumpy.
“Huzzah,” said Graeme, jumping up. He grabbed his brother by the arm and pulled him to his feet. “What do you want us to do first?”
She pointed to the space between the chaise and the window. “You should pull some of the chairs out of the way and roll up the carpet. That way you won’t trip and kill yourselves.”
“Never fear, Miss Knight,” Graeme said, “we’re as light on our feet as anything. Best sword dancers in the county, in fact.”
Royal snorted as he got out of their way. “Lumbering on your feet, more like it.”
The twins protested, but they did lumber about, dragging furniture and talking over each other as they wrestled with the carpet. Victoria peered at them with concern, as if she’d just realized what she’d gotten herself into. The twins were tall, braw lads, although still a bit gangly. Only Logan was bigger and stronger than them. He was a veritable mountain of a man, able to toss the caber with awe-inspiring ease.
Not strong enough to save Cameron, was he?
Nick slammed the door on that flood of ugly memories. No good ever came of thinking about the brother who’d fled from Kinglas years ago.
He flinched at the gentle touch on his forearm.
“My lord, is something wrong?” Victoria asked in an undertone.
“Not at all,” he said brusquely. He glanced at the twins, who waited impatiently for their lesson. “I’m just afraid the lads will crush those wee feet of yours.”
Her luminous smile seared away some of the ice around his heart. “My feet aren’t little at all. And I’ll be fine.”
“I’d be more than happy to demonstrate the steps.” He could think of few things more likely to dispel his ugly old ghosts than taking a pretty girl into his arms. It was a foolish temptation, but right now he wouldn’t mind playing the fool.
Her gaze darted away for a moment. But soon she looked back, her governess expression firmly restored. “Thank you, my lord, but I’m sure you wish to return to your correspondence.”
That she found his offer was neither welcome nor appropriate was clear. She was correct, of course, and he should feel relieved.
He didn’t.
“Later,” he said. “I have a feeling that watching my brothers learning to waltz will be more entertaining than writing a letter to my banker.”
She gave him a wry smile by way of reply before joining the twins.
