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“Your freckles are glowing. They only do that when you’re looking at him.”
Well, that was embarrassing.
“You’re right. I’m likely getting sunburnt,” Kathleen replied. “It’s so sunny today. But it’s perfect weather for the fete, thank goodness.”
“Dearest, we’ve already determined that it’s a certainsomeonewho sets you all aglow.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You most certainly do,” Sabrina firmly said. “It’s silly to keep denying it.”
“And I intend to keep denying it, or even acknowledge the need to discuss him. I mean, discuss it.”
“We need to talk about it because you’ve developed feelings for him.”
“I’m in denial about that, too.”
“Grant’s not,” Sabrina replied. “He’s mad for you, as evidenced by his behavior whenever poor David comes within hailing distance of you.”
Kathleen couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “He does become rather growly over the vicar, I must say.”
“Growly? He turns into a complete bear. I thought he was going to toss David out the window when the poor man stopped by this morning to drop off that lovely corsage for you.”
Kathleen had to admit she liked the sound of that. “Goodness, how terribly awkward.”
“Especially for me, once Graeme removed his twin from the scene,” Sabrina replied. “I had to explain to David why Grant was acting so rudely.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That the fumes from the distillery were giving our poor Grant the headache.”
Kathleen burst into laughter. “And David believed you?”
“He was highly sympathetic, and took the opportunity to lecture me once more on the evils of strong drink.”
Kathleen scrunched her nose. “Poor you.”
“At least we prevented Grant from pitching my vicar out the window.” Sabrina held up a finger. “Which brings me back to my point. You’ve grown very fond of Grant, no matter how much you might deny it.”
Kathleen returned her gaze to the field. Captain Brown was now up, the only remaining contestant besides Grant. So far, they’d been fairly evenly matched, although the captain seemed to possess a slight edge. Another reason to dislike the man.
Sabrina nudged her. “You are, aren’t you?”
Kathleen blew out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, probably more than I should.”
That almost-kiss in the vicar’s garden, which she couldn’t help wishing had been arealkiss, was proof of that.
Sabrina frowned. “But you and he would make a splendid pair, and there are certainly no impediments to marriage. Grant could easily support you. The man practically prints money.”
“I have plenty of money, Sabrina.”
“Of course. I just meant that your parents couldn’t raise any objections on that score. Grant comes from one of the best families in Scotland, too.”
Kathleen waved her arms. “We have absolutelynothingin common. He’s a boring old businessman who wants to spend the rest of his life in Glasgow—”
“He’s not boring—”
“And I want to be in Ireland, where I can live as I choose, without lectures from him on how to behave.”
