Page 52 of The Highlander's Kilted Bride
“What disturbs me is his attitude,” Ainsley said. “He’s already making the assumption that he has the right to make such judgments. As if everything is settled between them.”
“No man has the right to make such a judgment about a woman, even if he is married to her.”
Ainsley leaned over and patted him on the cheek. “You really are the nice Kendrick, aren’t you?”
“I am, but all my brothers would agree with what I said. Fortunately, Charlie seems well able to defend herself from the likes of that booby.”
‘’Thank goodness. Still, it’s clear her parents are putting a great deal of pressure on her to marry—if not Richard, then someone else.”
Kade disliked the sound of that more than he should. “I can’t see her caving to those demands, no matter how much pressure they subject her to.”
“I hope you’re right. But I still worry about her future in that regard.”
He thought for a moment, trying to get a handle on his muddled emotions. “On top of that, she’s languishing away in this backwater. With a talent like hers, Charlie needs access to better teachers and opportunities than she’ll find here.”
Ainsley opened her eyes wide. “And do you have a specific teacher in mind?”
Kade refused to be baited. “There are some excellent violin masters in Edinburgh who could take her on.”
“I think you’re forgetting something, my boy.”
“What?”
“How to be a Highlander,” she replied. “That’s what Charlie is, down to the bone. Be honest, Kade. Does she seem like she’s languishing, or are you letting your own view of the matter obscure your vision?”
Again, that image of the first time he saw Charlie, when she was riding in glorious freedom, came charging into his head. “I see your point. She might not be happy anywhere else but here.”
Ainsley waggled a hand. “Maybe. But I think that with the right man by her side, Charlie could take on the world. She simply needs someone who understands her, and accepts her for who she is.”
“A tall order, it would appear.”
“Is it?” she responded in a challenging tone.
The sound of footsteps approaching allowed him to dodge her too-perceptive question. The door opened and Angus stumped into the room, followed by Charlie.
“Had to rustle the lassie up,” his grandfather said. “She was out in the stables with yon booby Campbell.”
Charlie gave Kade a shy smile and a wave of the hand by way of greeting.
He eyed her kilted attire. “With the intention of annoying him, I assume.”
“Only an idiot like Campbell would be annoyed by the sight of a proper kilt,” Angus scornfully said. “And if I can wear one, why canna Miss Charlie?”
“She certainly looks much better in a kilt than you do,” Kade replied.
“And hers is clean,” Ainsley added.
Angus was wearing his oldest kilt and the shabby Highland bonnet he insisted was a relic handed down from Bonny Prince Charlie. Charlie, however, was neatly garbed in a beautiful kilt in Stewart plaid. Over it she wore a white linen blouse and a form-fitting leather vest suitable for riding. She completed the outfit with riding boots that reached to the hem of her kilt.
When home at Kinglas or attending formal occasions in Scotland, Kade often wore a kilt. He knew exactly what went under it and what didn’t. And for a delirious moment, he was seized with an almost unconquerable desire to know what Charlie wore—or didn’t wear—underherkilt.
Moron.
“How did Richard take your appearance?” he asked, trying to banish the image of a naked Charlie from his head.
She grinned. “I think he was quite shocked, although he did his best to pretend he wasn’t.”
“It’s that fat dowry of yers,” Angus said in his usual blunt manner. “You’ll have to do more than lark about in a kilt to get yon twiddlepoop to shove off.”
