No one could have anticipated Keira’s plans. His daughter seemed to have the ability to come up with a new plan in the heat of the moment, so no one had guessed that she might like to go hunting with her father. After all, she went to other functions with him, so why not hunting?
Ruaridh had always known that the little girl’s restless nature would be the end of him. He had watched grown men tire out while trying to keep up with her. It had always been his fear that one day, in their moment of exhaustion, she would slip away from them. And it had happened, almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy.
It was an incident that most men in the castle felt a little bit guilty for, but in the end, he was just grateful that they had gotten her back unharmed. He did not think he would have survived it if things had gone awry.
“I agree with ye. It seems I have him to thank for the torture I have to endure,” Ruaridh muttered.
Logan did not know if he should laugh or pity his friend. It was definitely amusing to watch the usually stoic Laird being undone by a lady. It was the first time he saw him being mellowedby another woman other than his grandmother and his little daughter, who had him wrapped around her little finger.
Violet had the power to tie the Laird in knots and steal his ever-present peace. Considering the heat Logan could sense between them, he understood Ruaridh’s need to marry her as a lasting solution to his obsession.
He should know, he felt something similar for a certain lady who refused to return his advances, even though they felt a sizzling attraction to each other.
The feeling could be heated and evoke that sense of helplessness, and not many people liked to show such vulnerability, even if it was with someone who shared the same feelings.
Fortunately, Ruaridh did not have to battle that with Violet. She had never hidden her attraction to him; they just had a spot of her fear to deal with.
Acknowledging that attraction was a step in the right direction, Logan suspected that if they spent more time together, they would be able to erase the invisible obstacles to their union.
“Me Laird,” he called, waiting until he had the other man’s attention before continuing. “I think I might have a solution to yer problem.”
“I am all ears,” Ruaridh replied, looking up from the accounts he had been balancing at him.
“Court her, Me Laird,” Logan suggested.
“Court her?” Ruaridh repeated incredulously, as if the man had suggested that he dance a jig half-naked in public.
“Aye, court her like a love interest. It is what one does with a lass one hopes to marry. Flirt with her, give her a lot of yer attention, fan her interest in ye into flames so that she would be more willing to consider yer suit.”
“I havenae paid court to a lady in years,” Ruaridh huffed in frustration. “The last time I paid court to a woman was when I was wooing me late wife.”
“Well, for the sake of yer sanity, ye need to dust off those skills and polish them once more for battle,” Logan replied. “Get to ken her as a person—her likes and dislikes, and what she is most passionate about. Let her get to ken ye as well.”
“She kens all there is to ken about me,” Ruaridh argued.
“Nay,” Logan replied with an indulgent smile. “She only kens the parts of ye that ye have showed her—the grumpy Laird, Keira’s faither—and the part of ye that desires her. She doesnae ken the other things—yer family, how ye came to be who ye are now, the things ye do when ye arenae being the Laird, yer favorite meals.”
“She doesnae need to ken all of those things now. She will learn them as we spend our lives together.”
“Aye, but kenning now might help make her more at ease with ye. She would find it easier to trust ye when ye daenae seem too much like a stranger. After all, these are simple things one should ken about their lover, and if ye really want to marry her, ye would do anything within yer power to convince her that it would be worth her while. Ye have to fight for her heart.”
And that was what this was: a battle for Violet’s heart, one Ruaridh did not want to think of the possibility of losing.
Now that he thought about it, this was probably his best bet at winning her heart—using her desire for him to seduce her until she had no choice but to surrender. The plan might be a bit diabolical, but it was needed, so he just had to map out the process.
He was pulled out of his reverie by the sounds of giggling, feminine and happy, drifting up to the room.
“What is that?” he asked, standing up from his seat to go look out the window.
The sight he was met with was as strange as it was bewildering. Grannie Ava, Keira, and Violet were dressed in bright-colored dresses and seated in a semicircle on a blanket right there in the garden, with plates and spoons and tiny cups strewn between them.
He recognized the cutlery, which spiked his irritation. It appeared that the women in his household never ran out of things to torture him with, and this time, they had come up with something so ludicrous that he suspected it was Violet’s idea.
They were having a tea party, right there in his garden, complete with a tea set and the dresses and manners.
Since he knew Violet did not come to the Highlands with a tea set, it only left one explanation.
Leaving the window, he stepped out of the room and went down to find his way to the garden.
