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“Why were you so insistent in your note that I not tell Mr. Kendrick about our meeting?” Sabrina asked.
Tilly’s silver gaze flickered away for a moment. “Don’t know him.”
“Well, you don’t know me, either.”
“You ain’t a bloke, miss.”
Sabrina had to repress the urge to put her head into her hands and start sobbing. That, however, would do nothing to solve their current dilemma.
She dredged up a smile. “Then I suppose we’d best be on our way. Poor Charlie has been in that orphanage long enough, don’t you think?”
Tilly’s smile blazed to life as she jumped to her feet. “That’s grand. It’s just off—”
The words died on her lips as she stared toward the front of the room.
Sabrina turned to see a familiar figure looming in the doorway. And she could feel his masculine ire radiating across the room.
“Drat,” she muttered.
Hannah scurried over to join them. “Oh, my lady, it’s Mr. Kendrick, and he looks right stormy-like.”
The heavy weather was coming straight for them.
Chapter Thirteen
Graeme stalked down the steps, glaring at the woman whose sole purpose apparently was to drive him into jabbering idiocy. And damned if she didn’t look annoyed at his appearance, as ifhewere the one engaged in a harebrained rescue mission.
A young woman came out from behind the counter and quickly stepped in front of him. She held up a large wooden tray like a shield. “Ye’d best think twice before chargin’ in here like a bully-boy, mister.”
Some of the customers rose from their tables. “Ye’ll nae be causin’ a ruckus with Emmy, ye ken,” one particularly burly fellow threatened.
“It’s all right, Emmy,” Sabrina piped up from the corner. “He won’t hurt anyone.”
The sturdy young woman eyed Graeme with no less disapproval. “He looks a right ugly customer to me.”
He could hardly quarrel with her assessment, since he’d been forced to roll out of bed and pull on whatever clothes came to hand. He gave the lass a placating smile, hoping to look as harmless as possible.
A derisive snort was her response.
“I promise it’s fine,” Sabrina said. “He’s with me.”
Emmy reluctantly lowered her tray, still scowling. “Verra well, but dinna try any funny business with miss, or ye’ll find yerself with a bloody great headache.”
“I already have a bloody great headache, thanks tomiss,” Graeme replied. “But I’m a Kendrick, if that makes any difference. The lady is staying with my family and is under our protection.”
Understanding dawned on Emmy’s face. “Och, yer one of them Kendrick twins, ain’t ye?”
Apparently, his old reputation was still intact. “Guilty as charged.”
The woman snorted. “I’ll bring ye a cup of coffee.”
“Thank you.”
“But no bustin’ up my furniture,” she added.
The denizens of Old Town obviously had long memories, not that he blamed her for the dig. He and Grant had brawled in more than a few pubs back in their Edinburgh university days.
“What was that about?” Sabrina asked.
