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And in a flash, it occurred to Kathleen that she’d not fought hard enough for her stepsister, notnearlyhard enough.
“Of course, love,” she said. “And if you want to take home a dog, we can talk about that later, too.” She smiled. “Although I think we can guess how Mamma would react to that.”
Jeannie’s pretty features lit up with joy. “Oh . . . oh, that’s wonderful, Kath. Thank you.” She stared earnestly up at Grant. “And thankyou. I promise I’ll take very good care of Daisy.”
“I have no doubt of that,” Grant said as he rose.
For such a big man, he moved with true masculine grace, his long, muscled legs flexing as he stood.
“You’re staring, pet,” Gillian murmured.
Kathleen felt her skin flame as she tried to ignore her friend’s warning.
“Thank you, sir,” she said to Grant.
His gaze lingered for few moments on her face, probably taking note of her freckles. They always glowed like beacons when she blushed, much to her lasting frustration.
“It was nothing,” he said before moving away to speak to Lord Arnprior.
“I think he likes you,” Gillian said in an unfortunately loud stage whisper.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Kathleen hissed.
Gillian grinned, but refrained from further comment when Henderson returned to the room.
“Dinner,” he said, “isfinallyserved.”
Chapter Six
Kathleen fiddled with her empty teacup as the ladies waited for the gentlemen to rejoin them in the drawing room, only half listening to the conversation.
Initially, she’d been pleased to be seated next to Grant at dinner. His kindness toward Jeannie had been touching, and had even made her feel a bit wobbly around the knees. Beneath that stoic exterior lurked a man of both perception and heart.
As a dinner partner, however, Grant Kendrick had been a decided failure.
Naturally, he’d been polite, tilting his head with a thoughtful frown whenever she’d asked him a series of what she thought were interesting questions. Unfortunately, all his replies had been succinct to the point of terse. By the time they’d reached the meat course—the fricassee of veal that had replaced the late, lamented joint of beef—Kathleen gave up trying to draw him out. If Gillian hadn’t taken pity on her to talk across the table, it would have been a silent march through the cheese and dessert course.
When Lady Arnprior had finally risen from the table, Kathleen had breathed a sigh of relief. Grant had cut her a sharp glance before his expression again turned politely bland as he pulled back her chair. He’d then resumed his seat without a backward glance as she left the room.
Why she should let that bother her was a mystery, since the man was obviously a dead bore. Then again, perhaps he foundherboring, or simply a pest with her lighthearted questions about the city and his family. She now realized that sort of thing could very well irritate a man of such serious temperament.
Perhaps a few cogent commentaries on Plato’sRepublicwould have done the trick.
When Gillian tapped her on the arm, she almost dropped her teacup. Her friend nimbly snatched it away and put it on the table in front of the chaise.
Kathleen crinkled her nose. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“Victoria was asking if you’d like another cup of tea.” Gillian’s mouth curved into a sneaky grin. “But you were obviously thinking of something else. Orsomeoneelse?”
“Whatever it was, it’s not worth remembering,” she firmly replied. “Thank you, but no, Lady Arnprior. After that wonderful dinner, I don’t think I have room for anything else.”
“Please call me Victoria, or Vicky,” said her ladyship. “After tonight’s disaster, it’s safe to say you’ve been initiated into the family.”
“Your staff made a splendid recovery, though.”
“Thanks to Henderson, really. He all but cooked the rest of the dinner himself.”
Jeannie, again on the floor with the dogs, flashed a grin. “I thought it was quite lovely and the most fun I’ve had in years.”
