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“Which is to say, not fashionable at all,” she joked, trying to cover.
His reply was cut off when the door opened and a brawny young man hurried out, barely avoiding them. His thick shock of blazing red hair was instantly andfatallyrecognizable to Donella.
She could only pray he wouldn’t recognize her.
“Och, excuse me,” he said. “I didn’t see ye—”
When he stuttered to a halt, his eyes going wide, Donella knew her prayers had gone unanswered. The young man gaped at her with utter astonishment.
All she could do was stare back in horror at the face she’d not seen in years. She would never forget it, nor would she forget the shameful secret his presence conjured up like a howling ghost.
“Is there a problem, sir?” Logan asked.
The sarcasm in his tone apparently did the trick. Roddy Murray awoke from his stupor and flashed Donella a wide smile that only served to increase the panic crackling through her brain.
“Miss Donella,” Roddy said in his deep brogue. “I heard ye were out of the convent, but I had no idea ye were in Glasgow. We just got to town a few days ago, so I reckon it’s no wonder I hadna heard about ye bein’ here.”
Her wits finally started to thaw. His comment surprised her, since the Murrays hated anything to do with the city. Generally, they tucked themselves away on their estate in one of the more remote corners of the Trossachs. And yet here they were, only a few weeks after her attempted abduction. That seemed entirely too coincidental, especially since Uncle Riddick had sternly warned the Murrays to stay away from the Haddons in general and Donella in particular.
Still, Roddy did seem genuinely surprised—and pleased—to see her. Had he not even been aware of that insane episode or known about her uncle’s warning?
“Is your entire family here in Glasgow?” she managed.
“Aye. We’ve all come down for a spell, visiting with my mother’s sister, ye ken.”
“Your father, too?” she prodded.
Mungo Murray was the most likely suspect behind the abduction. Good-natured Roddy was incapable of designing any sort of complicated plan.
He looked confused, which wasn’t unusual. Confusion was Roddy’s natural state. In Donella’s experience, most girls had been willing to overlook that unfortunate fact because he was both handsome, good-natured, and his father’s heir.
“Where else would he be?” Roddy answered.
An upsweep of nausea forced her to close her eyes and suck in a breath. All her old sins had finally caught up with her.
“Are you all right, lass?” Logan asked.
She opened her eyes to meet his concerned gaze. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”
He switched his attention to Roddy. “And who are you?”
Roddy blinked, obviously perplexed by Logan’s rude behavior.
“Just a family friend from the old days,” Donella blurted out. “It’s getting late. Don’t you think we should look for Joseph?”
Roddy looked like a kicked puppy. She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt.
Somehow, he mustered a smile and held out a hand to Logan. “I’m Roderick Murray, sir, of the Murray Clan. As Miss Donella says, an old friend.”
Logan’s hand froze in midair. “Murray?”
“Aye, sir. Roddy, to my friends.” He grinned at Donella. “Ye always called me that, ye ken.”
Donella had once read a book in which several characters were swept away by a monstrous tornado. When Logan’s outstretched hand curled into a fist, she found herself wishing to see one whirling down the street.
Logan began to crowd Roddy in the doorway. Horrified, Donella wedged herself between them.
“Yes, I do remember,” she said in a dementedly bright voice. “But we were very young, you know.”
