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He gently tapped her cheek. “Good for you, sweet lass.”
“Matthew, is everything all right?” called a querulous voice from the steps of the Trim house.
Kathleen glanced over to see an elderly man wearing a shawl and leaning on a cane as he peered at them.
“Everything’s fine, Mr. Trim,” Grant called. “Lady Arnprior will visit with you later today, to see how you get on after this unfortunate incident.”
“Her ladyship is always welcome,” the old man said. “Matthew, come back inside. All this standing about cannot be good for us.”
“But, Father,” young Trim protested, “this whole business—”
Old Trim waved his cane. “If Lady Arnprior is satisfied, then so am I.”
“Oh, very well.” Young Trim glared at Kathleen. “But Iwillbe writing to Lady Gorey to inform her of this afternoon’s distressing events.”
He stomped off, followed by his footmen.
Kathleen rubbed her forehead. “Well, that’s just splendid. Helen will besopleased.”
“Sorry, Kath,” Jeannie said in a small voice.
She dredged up a smile. “It’s not your fault, dearest. Except for the kicking, but one can hardly blame you. That man was positively dreadful.”
Grant nudged them toward the house. “Perhaps we could move this inside, away from our audience.”
Mrs. Buchanan and her sister were still observing from their doorstep.
“It really was just a ball through a window,” Kade said. “And Kathleen did her best to apologize.”
“Not much success there, I’m afraid,” Grant said.
“I’m not used to being the coolheaded one in a crisis,” she said. “It threw me off.”
He snorted. “At least you didn’t pull a knife.”
“Aye, it’s a mess,” said Kade.
“Especially when that old twiddlepoop writes to Mamma,” Jeannie morosely added.
“And Mrs. Buchanan saw the whole thing from start to finish. You know what a gossip she is.” Kade brightened. “But the old gal is fond of you, Grant. You can give her a visit and butter her up. Try to contain the damage, as it were.”
Coming from such an old sobersides, Grant’s quietly muttered oath was remarkably colorful.
Chapter Nine
“Grant, be a good lad and fetch me another dram,” Gillian said. “This has been a most annoying day.”
“Partly thanks to you, pulling a knife on Trim like that,” he sardonically replied as he took her glass over to the drinks trolley.
“Nonsense. I was merelyaboutto pull my knife. Your heroic entrance forestalled that need.”
Grant threw her a disbelieving look. “Gillian, I saw the damn thing in your hand. So did Matthew Trim.”
“Oh, well,” she said with an insouciant shrug. “He was a dreadful ninny, you must admit.”
“Ye can hardly blame the lass,” Angus said from his customary seat by the drawing-room fireplace. “Young Trim was itchin’ for a fight.”
Royal, who was lounging across from him, scoffed. “You didn’t need to scratch that itch so thoroughly.”
