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“And splendidly, too,” Victoria said without batting an eyelash. “Nicholas would have been lost without you.”
The family maintained the fiction that the old fellow had done a bang-up job.
“Graeme has other talents,” Victoria said to Angus. “His work was invaluable in helping to clear your name after, er, after that regrettable incident with the Marquess of Cringlewood.”
“Do you mean the scalySassenachthat Aunt Ainsley almost killed?” Joseph asked.
Logan almost spit out his mouthful of whisky. It took him a moment to wrestle it down his gullet. “Joseph, who told you about Cringlewood?”
“Grandda. He said the scalySassenachtried to kidnap Auntie Ainsley and Tira. And he almost killed Uncle Royal, except Auntie Ainsley shot him.”
“And what else did Grandda tell you?” Victoria asked in a deceptively mild voice.
“Oh, nothin’ worth mentionin’,” Angus hastily butted in.
Joseph frowned at his great-grandfather. “But you told me you killed the other badSassenachwith your dirk. That’s why you had to leave Scotland so fast.” He glanced at Logan. “You were there too, Papa. Grandda said you threw a man out a window.”
Trust Angus to embellish any story.
“I just pushed him against a wall.” Logan had used quite a bit of force, but Joseph didn’t need to know that. “And your grandfather did not kill anyone with a dirk.”
Angus pointed his pipe at him. “But Ididkill him, ye ken.”
Joseph beamed up at his grandfather.
Logan pressed a hand to his eyes. “I cannot believe you told him all that.”
“I dinna like to lie,” Angus said in a pious tone, “especially not to bairns. Sets a bad example.”
With the exception of Kade, who was trying not to laugh, everyone stared at the old man with disbelief. Angus was the most accomplished liar in the family—probably in all of Scotland.
“Thankfully, those sad events are now behind us,” Victoria said, clearly anxious to redirect the conversation. “Graeme was tireless in helping to track down the rest of Cringlewood’s men and gather evidence for the magistrate. In fact, my brother thinks he would make a splendid investigator.”
That was high praise indeed. Victoria’s half brother, Aden St. George, held a rather mysterious senior position at the Home Office and wielded a great deal of influence at the highest levels of government.
Graeme actually blushed. “I just wanted to help.”
“And I’m that grateful to ye, lad,” Angus said. “It’s no fun havin’ a murder charge hangin’ over yer head.”
“Perhaps we can talk about something else, Grandda,” Logan said, aware that his son was hanging on every word of the wildly inappropriate conversation.
The old man rolled his eyes.
“How is little Tira?” Victoria asked Joseph.
“She’s all right for a baby, but she’s noisy and still spits up sometimes.”
“Not such a baby now,” Angus said. “She’s almost three and poppin’ up like a weed.”
For a moment, the old fellow looked stricken. He’d helped raise Ainsley and Royal’s daughter from birth and was devoted to the little lass.
Joseph wriggled closer and took his great-grandfather’s hand, squeezing it in silent comfort. The boy had a grand, kind heart, just like his mother, and Logan felt his throat grow tight.
“Auntie Ainsley said I had to take care of Grandda, because he would miss Tira something fierce,” Joseph said in a serious tone to Victoria.
Angus smiled. “I do miss her, but I’m glad to be with ye, laddie. And glad to be home with my family.”
“And what about Aunt Ainsley?” Logan asked Joseph. “Do you like her?”
