“Aye, and let that be a lesson to ye,” Angus suddenly piped in. “No good can come of larkin’ about with Frenchies, and an opera singer to boot. What were ye thinkin’, lad, to be tricked by such a one as that?”
Their grandfather had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entire discussion—so much so that Kade had forgotten he was in the room.
Angus was settled near the fireplace in his favorite wingback chair, looking predictably disreputable in his scuffed boots and tatty old kilt. With his wrinkled features and puffball white hair, he was beginning to resemble a Highland version of Methuselah, benignly smoking his pipe.
But Grandda’s blue gaze still held a sharpness that belied his age. He’d insisted on coming along for the interrogation. Ever since Kade was a wee lad, Grandda had watched over him like a she-wolf with a lone pup, and he obviously had no intention of relinquishing the post now.
“Marina is Russian, not French,” Kade said. “And she tricked me because she is a very good spy.”
“Fah.” Angus stood and started to drag his chair over to the desk, scattering ashes from his pipe in his wake.
Kade jumped up, wincing at the pull to his healing wound. “Grandda, let me get that for you.”
“I dinna need ye treatin’ me like I’m an invalid. That would be ye, and I’ll nae have ye hurtin’ yerself more than ye already are.” Angus thumped his chair down beside him. “Anyway, Russian, French, they’re all the same, and not for ye to be larkin’ aboot with.”
“I wasnotlarking.”
“Still, one does not expect an acclaimed pianist to engage in nefarious doings. And that’s especially true when that pianist is a Kendrick,” Nick said.
“I’m hardly the first spy in this family,” Kade pointed out. “And may I remind you thatI’mthe victim. Marina stabbed me, not the other way around.”
Angus puffed vigorously on his pipe, sending smoke billowing over Kade. “Like I said, that’s what ye get for larkin’ aboot with French opera singers.”
Argh.
Kade waved a hand in front of his face. “I’m supposed to be recuperating, not getting asphyxiated.”
Angus ignored his protest. “I canna think that Vicky will be best pleased to hear of this. Yer her favorite, ye ken, and still her wee innocent laddie.”
Victoria, Countess of Arnprior, was Kade’s former governess, and had arrived in his life when both his physical and emotional states had been precarious. She’d quickly become more than a teacher, loving and protecting him with a fierce loyalty. The day she’d gone from governess to Nick’s wife had been joyful for all of them, but she and Kade had always held a special bond.
Now Kade did not relish the prospect of facing his sister-in-law. Vicky had been down in the village this morning and so had missed his arrival.
“I’m actually her favorite, ye ken,” Nick dryly said. “But your point is well taken, Grandda. Victoria does not need to know the specific details of this unfortunate affair.”
Royal waggled his eyebrows. “Emphasis on ‘affair.’”
“You’re a tremendous help,” Kade sarcastically replied.
“And she will hear nothing salacious,” Nick sternly ordered. “Victoria is distressed enough by the fact that you received a near-fatal wound under somewhat murky circumstances.”
Kade waved a dismissive hand. “The wound was only mildly infected. Braden took care of it as soon as I returned to Edinburgh.”
Unfortunately, his minor infection had grown worse during his travels to Scotland. His brother—a ruthlessly efficient physician—had cleaned the wound and poured noxious potions down Kade’s throat, all while delivering stern lectures on the idiocy of musicians pretending to be spies. Kade was closer to Braden than anyone in the world, but he’d been more than a little relieved when he’d finally been released from his brother’s care.
“Braden wrote that you suffered several days of fever,” Nick said.
Kade shrugged. “I’m perfectly fine now, so no harm done.”
Nick shook his head. “You cannot blame us for feeling anxious, Kade. You and fevers have never had a good history.”
“Aye, that,” Royal quietly added. “We’d never recover if we lost you, lad.”
And there it was, the Kendrick specialty. Anxiety and love combined to tremendous effect, producing the maximum guilt in the intended recipient.
“I haven’t been sick in years,” Kade replied. “And, again, can we please keep explanations as brief as possible for Vicky?”
Nick gave a brisk nod of approval. “Victoria doesn’t need to know the sordid details, especially in her delicate condition.”
