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Angus took Gillian’s arm, and the two reluctantly retreated from the field of battle.
They’d barely departed before Trim started waving a frantic hand. “Now we’ll see what’s what,” he said in a snippy tone.
Grant glanced over his shoulder, then back at Trim in disbelief. “You really called a constable over a broken window?”
“Have you forgotten that I was attacked?”
“Mr. Trim,” Kathleen firmly said, “you called the constablebeforemy sister kicked you. And she only kicked you because your language was offensive.”
Grant’s gaze returned to her. “Was it now?”
“He was being very nasty to Kathleen when she was sincerely trying apologize,” Jeannie said.
Grant studied Trim with aristocratic disdain. Kathleen had never seen him do aristocratic disdain. She quite enjoyed it.
“What sort of man calls the constable on a young girl and her sister for playing a game in the park?” he asked with undisguised contempt.
Trim, who’d begun to recover his countenance, flushed red again. “We’ll see what the constable has to say, sir.”
The lawman trundled up, a bit out of breath.
“It’s about time,” Trim angrily said.
Grant smiled at the constable. “Mr. Hugo, I’m afraid you’ve been called out for nothing.”
The genial-looking, middle-aged man heaved a sigh. “Och, Kendrick business, is it? Is yer twin lurkin’ about? Ye two were a whole pile of trouble, back in the day.”
Kathleen perked up. “Really? That sounds interesting.”
The constable gave her a sly grin. “I could tell ye a story or three.”
“This is ridiculous,” huffed Trim.
“It certainly is.” Grant nodded at Will, who’d been standing by, ready to lend assistance. “Will, please take Mr. Hugo to the house for a dram. Angus will be pleased to see him.”
The constable brightened. “Now, that’s a fine suggestion, sir. Thank ye.”
“But—”
Trim’s protest withered under Grant’s lethal gaze as Will promptly took the constable off to the house.
Impressed by Grant’s efficient handling of the situation, Kathleen smiled at him. “Now what?”
“Now we all apologize to Mr. Trim, arrange to fix his window, and go home.”
“But he grabbed me,” Jeannie protested.
“You kicked me,” Trim snapped.
Grant went back to looking flinty. “No gentleman should lay a hand in anger on a woman, much less a girl. Do I truly need to remind you of that?”
When Trim fumed in outraged silence, Grant turned to Jeannie. “Maybe everyone got a wee bit fashed and overreacted?”
Since Jeannie was beginning to look mutinous again, Kathleen nodded. “Yes, I think wealloverreacted, for which I certainly apologize.”
Grant crouched down to meet Jeannie’s gaze. “Lass?”
She finally relented. “I’m sorry, too.”
