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“Thank you, Logan Kendrick,” she’d whispered in his ear. “I’ll never forget you.”
Instinctively, he’d hugged her back, her short, silky hair brushing against his cheek.
Donella had then gently kissed Logan’s cheek before hastily climbing into the waiting carriage. He’d been rather stunned by that kiss and had felt color rise to his cheeks.
Alec, naturally, had snorted out a sardonic laugh but then had sincerely thanked Logan. “We owe you a great deal, old man. You have our gratitude.”
Logan wanted not gratitude but a business deal with Lord Riddick. That discussion, however, had nothing to do with Donella and was for another day.
He’d watched as the carriage and its armed guard swiftly departed, carrying Donella safely away. It left him oddly bereft. He would miss the lass and wished he could somehow see her again.
Then he’d remembered that he was done with women. Marguerite had been the love of his life, and she’d given him a beautiful son. It was more than he deserved.
Logan guided his horse past George Square and into the more residential parts of the city. Dusk fell rapidly, as it did this time of year, and lights glowed in the windows of the houses that lined the quiet streets. Within a few minutes, he was turning into an elegant garden square, fronted by mansions built by the wealthy Tobacco Lords of the last century.
Kendrick House, the largest on the square, was lit from top to bottom. With almost the entire family in residence, he doubted he could sneak in. The Countess of Arnprior would take one look at him and command him upstairs to take a bath, as if he were a naughty boy who’d fallen into a puddle. Victoria was a bit of a stickler, who ran the Kendrick household with a firm hand. She was also kind, funny, and brilliant, and the woman Nick had needed in his life.
Victoria had been what they’dallneeded. She’d healed the fractured bonds of their family and forced Logan and Nick to confront and forgive the mistakes and tragedies of the past.
Dismounting, he tied the horse to the hitching post and climbed the steps to the portico. Before he could knock, the door opened and young Will, one of the footmen, greeted him with a look of concern.
“Are ye all right, sir?” Will eyed Logan’s disreputable appearance. “We were expecting ye home over a day ago.”
“I encountered some unexpected business on the road. Can you have one of the stable lads look after this fellow, Will? He’s had a long day.”
“Aye, sir.”
When Logan stepped inside, he frowned at the chaos. Boxes and various pieces of luggage were piled in the middle of the hall floor, while two footmen struggled to wrestle a huge trunk up the stairs. Henderson, the butler, was conferring with the head chambermaid. And the blasted dogs were barking their fool heads off in the drawing room.
Henderson glanced at him, delivered a quick set of instructions to the maid, then hurried over.
“I apologize for the commotion, sir,” he said as he took Logan’s coat. “It’s all been very sudden.”
“What’s going on, Henderson? Has the Prince Regent himself arrived for a visit?” Since Prinny was Victoria’s natural father, it was an inside joke with the family and senior staff.
“No, sir.” A rare grin split the butler’s spare features. “It’s Mr. Mac—”
The door to the drawing room opened and out tumbled two of the family’s pack of exceedingly silly Skye Terriers. The man who followed in their wake froze Logan in his tracks.
Angus MacDonald, his grandfather, came barreling across the hall. Since the old fellow was supposed to be in Canada, his appearance was a stunner.
“Laddie, we’ve been waitin’ for ye.” Angus threw his skinny arms around Logan and hugged him. Since he barely came up to Logan’s shoulder, he landed somewhere around the midsection.
“It’s grand to see ye,” Angus choked out.
Logan returned the embrace. “It’s wonderful to see you too, Grandda. And surprising.”
He had to raise his voice. The dogs, tumbling around their feet like gigantic dust balls, yapped their heads off.
Technically, Angus was Logan and Nick’s stepgrandfather, since his daughter had been the old earl’s second wife. But Angus loved all the Kendrick brothers with equal devotion. No grandfather could be more loyal—or more old-fashioned and pigheaded. Despite his stubborn ways, he had a kind and loving heart and would do anything for his family.
Anythingincluded committing murder to save the life of Royal, Logan’s younger half brother. That was why they’d shipped the old fellow off to Halifax. Royal and his wife, Ainsley, had been forced to flee as well after Ainsley shot the man who was going to kidnap her wee little daughter. Only recently had most of the legal complexities arising out of that unfortunate incident been resolved, lifting the cloud of prosecution from over their heads.
No one had expected the newly established Halifax branch of the family to return to Scotland anytime soon, since they’d all seemed happily settled in their new lives.
Angus stepped back. “Ye’re lookin’ as queer as Dick’s hatband, lad, and ye’re not smellin’ the best, either. What have ye been up to?”
Since the old man normally knocked about wearing an old kilt and worn-out leather vest, his criticism was a bit comical. With his grizzled hair, shabby tam, and grubby clay pipe, Angus often resembled a caricature of an antique Highlander. Today, though, he was as neat as a pin in breeches and tailcoat, with boots that were presentable, at least for him.
