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You’re daft, man.
Girls didn’t shimmer or float, or any other stupid image his brain kicked out.
Shewasvery bonny, just as his grandfather had said. With wide-set, pewter-gray eyes, narrow cheekbones, and a sharp little chin, her face looked more elfin than human.
Except for her mouth, which was definitely human and very lush, with a Cupid’s bow curve and a full lower lip. Set against her ethereal features, it made for an intriguing contrast.
Grant liked intriguing. He decided he liked pink gowns and spangled ribbons, too.
The young woman drifted to a halt a few feet away, her mouth tilted in a crooked half smile, as if unsure of her reception.
“You’re starin’, laddie,” Angus whispered.
Of course, what his grandfather considered a whisper could be heard half a block away.
Stop acting like a dolt.
He dredged up a smile. “I take it this is one of our guests. Perhaps you could introduce me, Grandda.”
“That would be preferable to us staring at each other like boobies,” the young lady responded.
The vinegary reply was offset by her light voice and an appealing trace of a brogue—not Scottish, but Irish. That was also intriguing.
After a fraught pause, Grant nudged his grandfather. “Angus?”
“Och, I’m forgettin’ my manners. Happens all the time, ye ken.”
When the girl smiled—a real smile, this time—Grant almost forgot his own name.
“Lady Arnprior warned me that you didn’t have any manners,” she said to Angus. “So I shouldn’t mind if you say something outrageous.”
Good God.
Angus gave her a wink. “I’ll be havin’ a wee chat with her ladyship, defamin’ me like that.”
The girl laughed. “Oh, drat. Now I’ve got us both in trouble, haven’t I?”
“Nothin’ we can’t get out of together, lass. Just follow my lead.”
She dipped him a saucy little curtsy. “I will be sure to do so, Mr. MacDonald.”
“A-hem,” Grant said.
Angus gave a fake start. “I almost forgot about ye. Miss Kathleen Calvert, allow me to introduce my grandson Grant Kendrick.”
Grant bowed. “Miss Calvert, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to Kendrick House.”
“Thank you, sir.” She tilted her head back, studying him with a thoughtful frown. “I thought Lord Arnprior was tall, but you’re almost a giant. It’s all the clean living, I suppose, not to mention the log tossing. I’ve been told that Scots are fond of log tossing. By your size, I would say you do quite a lot of it.”
Grant’s mind blanked for a moment. “Er, is that a question?”
Miss Calvert studied him for a moment before letting out a sigh, as if disappointed. “I suppose we should go in. The others are waiting.”
When she calmly walked off toward the drawing room, Grant turned to his grandfather. “What just happened?”
“Ye got rolled up, son, that’s what happened. Ye’ll have to do better than that.”
“Do better at having bizarre conversations? That’s your forte, not mine.”
