Page 125 of The Highlander's Kilted Bride
Ainsley’s assessment, while it made perfect sense, twisted his heart. To him, Charlie was like music, the most beautiful he’d ever heard.
“You know, you’re more than just a pretty face,” he said. “You’re actually quite perceptive for aSassenach.”
She snorted. “You are a dreadful boy. But now, I must be off. If we leave too late, we’ll no doubt get stuck on some dreadful moor full of annoying Highland ghosts.”
“Tira would like that.”
“And I would not.”
They stood, and Ainsley reached up and brushed a kiss across his cheek. “I’ll make your goodbyes to Royal and Tira, since you’re looking worse for wear.”
He smiled. “Thank you. And thank you for your advice.”
“See that you apply it. And keep out of trouble, Kade, you and Charlie both.”
“Aye, that.”
“Do not leave here until she promises to marry you.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Ainsley rolled her eyes and swept from the room.
CHAPTER18
Charlie snuck past her mother’s bedchamber and made her way along the pitch-dark hall. All was now quiet. The family was abed after repeated assurances by her father that the Kinloch Fiddler was gone for good.
Papa had buttonholed her earlier in the evening, extracting a promise to ensure just that.
“You’ve already managed to send Richard scampering off,” he’d said, “so there’s no need for your continued antics. I love you, Charlotte, but I will throw you off the tower if I hear one squeak from your blasted fiddle tonight.”
Since her deranged scheme had yielded the proper result, Charlie had meekly promised that the Fiddler was forever consigned to the grave.
But while the Kinloch Fiddler’s days were over, the family’s troubles were not. She hadn’t a clue how to get through to Johnny, and scabby Sir Leslie hung over their heads like the Sword of Damocles. Plus there was the still-missing brooch. She needed help, and from the only person capable of providing what she required.
Kade.
After their torrid and ultimately embarrassing encounter in the music room this morning, Charlie had made a point of avoiding him. He’d not been pleased about that. Whenever she’d glanced his way this evening, his narrow-eyed gaze had promised a reckoning would soon be at hand. But if there was to be a reckoning, she preferred it to be on her terms.
And perhaps that might include a few more kisses?
Charlie mentally winced at her own foolish thoughts. At her age, one would think she’d have better self-control.
She turned into the guest wing, which was dark save for one ray of light filtering out from beneath Kade’s door. He was probably working.
Thank God.
The thought of sneaking into his bedroom and waking him up had given her distinct pause—especially after her brain had been seized by the image that he might be sleeping in the altogether. That was almost too stimulating to contemplate.
She inhaled a deep, calming breath and then tapped on the heavy oak door. Several agonizing seconds crept by until finally she heard a footstep. The door quietly swung open—thank God for well-oiled hinges—and Kade loomed over her. He’d discarded his frock coat and vest but was still dressed in trousers and shirt.
His eyebrows rose in a sardonic tilt as he took in her kilted attire. “The Kinloch Fiddler, I presume?”
“Shh,” she hissed, pushing him back inside and stepping in. “Papa will have my head on a platter if he finds out I’m here. I promised to behave myself, at least for tonight.”
“I’m not sure sneaking into my bedroom in the middle of the night falls under the heading of proper behavior, at least by your father’s standards.”
“Yes, it’s quite shocking of me. But it couldn’t be helped.”
