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“It’s entirely unnecessary,” Donella had said, trying to sound firm. “I’ll be too busy planning Eden’s parties to socialize.”
“Oh, I promised Edie I’d help you with that, too. So you’ll still have plenty of time for socializing.”
“But—”
“I have my orders, Donella. You are to buy some pretty dresses and enjoy your time here in Glasgow. His lordship was perfectly clear on that point.”
And that, apparently, was that. She was to have fun, even if it killed her.
If she didn’t first die of embarrassment when she saw Logan Kendrick.
Victoria had assured her that the study was empty, so she didn’t bother knocking before slipping into the room.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she was about to head for the bookshelves that rose to the ceiling behind Lord Arnprior’s desk when she caught sight of a small boy curled up in front of the fireplace, reading a book. He suddenly jerked into a sitting position, dropping the leather-bound volume to the floor.
Donella halted in the middle of the carpet as the boy scrambled to his feet.
“I’m sorry I startled you,” she said. “I didn’t mean to barge in like that.”
The little boy tucked his hands behind his back, looking a bit wary. “That’s all right. And you didn’t really barge in.”
She waggled a hand. “Perhaps just a bit?”
That won her a hint of a smile. “Maybe a little.”
For a few moments, they eyed each other. The study was quiet but for the hissing of coals in the grate and the tick of the gilt and porcelain bracket clock on the mantel.
He was a handsome child, with jet-black hair and skin the color of bronze. His dark eyes were big and thickly lashed. He regarded her with a solemnity that seemed beyond his age, which she guessed to be about six. He was at that endearing, awkward stage when a boy was a few years out of the toddler stage but not yet old enough to enter the schoolroom.
When it became obvious that her little companion was content to stand and stare, studying her with open curiosity, Donella bit back a smile.
“I’m Donella Haddon. I’ve just arrived for a visit.”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re the almost-nun Papa told me about. You had to leave the convent. Aunt Vicky said you might be coming for Christmas.”
She mentally winced to learn he was Logan’s son. The resemblance was quite strong, including the stubborn line to the jaw and the high forehead ending in a slight widow’s peak. Then there were the gangly arms and legs that hinted he would grow up to be a tall man, just like his father.
Still, it was hard to believe that such a solemn child could be the offspring of the bold Highland warrior who tossed would-be kidnappers off bridges.
“Then you must be Joseph Kendrick.”
He came forward and bowed over her hand forcefully. Unlike his father, he showed excellent manners.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Haddon.”
She dipped into a curtsy. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kendrick.”
“You’d better call me Joseph,” he said with a shy smile. “There are an awful lot of Mr. Kendricks in the house.”
“I’ll be happy to call you Joseph, if you promise to call me Donella.”
He crinkled his forehead. “Shouldn’t I call you Miss Haddon?”
“Only if you want to. But I’m not really used to that name anymore.”
“Because you were in the convent. You don’t keep your regular names in a convent.”
“Correct,” she said, surprised he knew such a detail.
