“Thank God.” Charlie felt a bit dizzy with relief. If her carelessness had caused any harm, she would have never forgiven herself.
“Well, no harm done,” said Royal in a good-humored voice to the coachman. “You and Billy can return to your places. We’ll be off momentarily.”
Grumbling, and with one last dirty look at Charlie, Brown climbed up to his seat while the groom disappeared around the carriage.
“Truly, I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” she said to Royal. “It was most careless of me to not hear or see you on the road.”
“Please stop apologizing, Miss Stewart,” said the lovely woman who’d been standing with Kade and the little girl. “I’m Ainsley Kendrick, by the way, which I suspect you already know.”
Charlie mentally sighed. Clearly, her mother had given Ainsley a detailed description that had allowed her to easily identify the black sheep of the family by her behavior and dress.
She bobbed an awkward curtsy because, well, one didn’t generally give curtsies in a kilt. “We’ve been expecting you, Mrs. Kendrick. I’m very happy to make your acquaintance at last.”
Ainsley flashed a smile full of warmth and humor. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear, even under such unconventional circumstances.”
“I’m rather well-known for those, I’m afraid,” Charlie ruefully replied.
“Then we should get along splendidly. Allow me to introduce my family. This is my husband, Royal Kendrick.”
“We met when I was a child,” she replied. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, sir.”
Royal gave her a courtly bow, as if they weren’t standing in the middle of a dusty lane with her looking like a madwoman.
“For me as well, Miss Stewart. I look forward to renewing our acquaintance.”
Charlie mentally steeled herself to face Kade, who was now regarding her with a perplexed frown, as if trying to figure out who she was.
“And you’re Mr. Kade Kendrick,” she said. “I met you, too, although I’m sure you don’t remember me.”
She remembered, though. All these years, and she’d not forgotten one little thing about him.
Too bad for you, Charlie.
* * *
Kade stared at Miss Stewart, trying to remember who the hell she was. She regarded him with a bit of defiance and more than a bit of embarrassment. Though she’d stopped apologizing and had quickly collected herself, her high cheekbones were still glowing pink, and her narrow shoulders were hitched up in a defensive posture. Despite her embarrassment, her gaze held steady, as if willing him to recollect how he knew her.
He couldn’t help but notice her striking eyes—an unusual, velvety brown that stood in contrast to her golden hair, fair brows, and delicate complexion that held a touch of sun-kissed bronze. She was a slender lass and not particularly tall, but was obviously athletic, else she wouldn’t have been able to handle the enormous stallion that stood at her shoulder.
She was a collection of contrasts, both intriguing and slightly bizarre, a fey sprite that rode like a warrior and dressed like a Highland lad. Somewhere in the back of his brain there was a wisp of a memory.
Her full mouth curled up in a rueful smile. “It seems you do not remember.”
He began to feel like an idiot. “I’m afraid not, and shame on me. I’m assuming we were very young when we met.”
“I believe you were thirteen at the time,” Royal dryly said.
Kade frowned. “Really?”
Angus elbowed him. “Jinglebrains. Ye spent a fair amount of time with Miss Stewart, too.” He smiled at the young woman. “But I remember ye, and I’d never met such a bonny little lass. A ray of sunshine, ye were.”
Miss Stewart’s rueful smile turned into a grin that was decidedly sunny. All at once, she seemed like the kind of girl who would always surprise, turning one’s life upside down without even trying.
That little wisp in his brain began to take shape.
“That’s very kind, Mr. MacDonald,” she said. “Although I’m not sure my mother would agree.”
“Och, yer dear ma was always a bit of a stickler. I reckon she’s starched up about yer kilt-wearing and such?”
