Page 37 of The Highlander's Kilted Bride
Kade reached down to help her stand upright. “Impressive landing, Miss Stewart. That branch is a good nine feet off the ground.”
“Oh, that was nothing.” She brushed off her hands and then batted a few pieces of bark from her gown. “It’s not as tricky in a kilt. Much less fabric to manage.”
Kade suddenly decided that he would like to see her climb a tree in a kilt.
Get a hold of yerself, man.
“I can imagine,” he said. “And congratulations on a successful rescue mission. I must say, however, that I am put to shame, forced to stand by while you did all the work.”
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let you hurt your shoulder. I know it’s still healing, and your grandfather would never forgive me if you reinjured it.”
Kade mentally sighed. Of course it had been Angus who’d told her. “What else did my grandfather tell you?”
“That you were injured in a knife fight in Paris.” She frowned. “Mr. MacDonald grew quite mysterious when I asked him how you ended up in a knife fight. He claimed he was under a compulsion not to answer, which seemed an odd thing to say.”
Despite his irritation, Kade almost laughed at his grandfather’s phraseology.
“It was just an unfortunate incident with a thief,” he said. “And my injury is well healed, I assure you.”
“Not according to your grandfather,” she said, turning serious. “He said you were almost killed. I was . . . was quite upset to hear that.”
She grimaced and looked down at her feet, as if embarrassed by her show of emotion.
“My grandfather has a marked tendency to exaggerate,” he gently replied. “I was never in any real danger.”
She drew in a large breath before looking up. “I’m glad to hear that.”
He found himself caught in her gaze, which shimmered like rich Baltic amber.
“I’m right as rain, lass,” he rather gruffly replied. “In fact—”
“Charlotte Elizabeth Stewart, what in heaven’s name are you doing?”
Kade turned to see Lady Kinloch marching down from the terrace, her normally serene features hardened in lines of well-bred outrage.
“Blast,” muttered Charlie. “Get ready for hell to rain down, Mr. Kendrick.”
He choked back a laugh and turned to greet his irate hostess. “Lady Kinloch, Miss Stewart and I were just having a stroll about the garden. Would you care to join us?”
Lady Kinloch, for once, ignored him. “Charlotte, I have told yourepeatedlynot to climb trees. Now you do it in front of our guest, no less. Whatever were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I had to get Maisy out of the tree,” her unrepentant daughter calmly replied. “Mr. Kendrick offered to do it, but of course I couldn’t let him take such a risk.”
That threw Lady Kinloch off a bit. She cast Kade an uncertain glance before recovering her parental stride.
“Then you should have sent for one of the grooms, or just left that ridiculous creature up there. Really, Charlotte, climbing trees at your age. Your sister almost had a fit when she saw you.”
Charlie rolled her eyes. “So it was Melissa who grassed on me, was it?”
Her mother drew herself up, the very picture of offended dignity. “Please refrain from using horrid cant, especially in front of our distinguished guest.”
“I’m really not that distinguished,” Kade put in. “Just a regular fellow who also likes to climb trees.”
Both ladies looked at him as if he’d just sprouted a pair of ram’s horns.
“Of course you are distinguished, Mr. Kendrick,” Lady Kinloch insisted. “That is why it is all the more embarrassing that I did not get down here in a timely manner. I do apologize, but Melissa was exceedingly shocked, so I was forced to spend a few minutes with her.”
“In other words, Melissa had another bout of the vapors.” Charlie shook her head. “I do hope Colin knows what he’s getting himself into by taking the poor girl on.”
