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Argh.And his family still wondered why he spent all his time at the office.
Royal, smothering a laugh, decided to take pity on him. “Is Jeannie reconciled to her early return to London?” he asked Gillian.
“I thought she was, yet now she’s resistant again. We tried to discuss it with her after dinner, but . . .” Gillian wriggled a hand. “I’m ashamed to admit I beat a hasty retreat and left poor Kathleen to deal with the rebellion.”
“Of course the wee lassie wishes to stay with us,” Angus said. “We’re a damn sight nicer than her own mother.”
Gillian nodded. “Sadly true. Lady Gorey will probably lock the poor child away on some remote country estate.”
Vicky grimaced in sympathy. “That’s dreadful. Perhaps—”
Kathleen hurried through the door. “Please don’t get up, gentlemen. It’s dreadfully rude of me to be late for tea, but Jeannie was quite upset.”
Nick led her to an empty armchair. “No apologies are necessary. May I fetch you a sherry, perhaps, or even a whisky?”
She flopped down with an endearing lack of formality. Grant had to admit that such naturally graceful charm was one of the many things he loved about her.
Loved.
His brain stuttered over the word until he regrouped and told himself to stop thinking like a feckless moron.
Kathleen gave Nick a grateful smile. “A brandy, please. In fact, perhaps you might bring me the entire decanter.”
“Something wrong, Grant?” Angus asked in an innocent tone. “Yer looking a wee bit fashed.”
“The only thing I’m fashed about is my empty glass,” he said, starting to rise.
Nick plucked the glass from his hand. “I’ll fetch it. You sit and talk with Kathleen.”
Kathleen looked startled. “Talk to me? About what?”
“Ah . . .” Grant started.
“About his apology,” Gillian said. “Which he’ll be making right now.”
Good. God.
Kathleen looked perplexed for a moment. Then her brow cleared. “You mean about this afternoon? No apology is necessary. In fact, I’m the one who should be apologizing to all of you for causing trouble.” She crinkled her nose at Grant. “Sadly, a great deal of trouble.”
She looked so adorably rueful that he had to smile. “Och, dinna fash yourself, lass. We’ll get it sorted.”
“I have a suggestion, Kathleen,” Vicky said. “Why don’t you and Jeannie simply continue to stay with us? I am happy to write to your stepmother and extend the offer.”
“That’s so kind of you, but when Helen gets wind of what happened . . .” Kathleen gratefully accepted the brandy glass from Nick and took a healthy sip.
“I can talk to the old bat . . . er, your stepmother when I get back to London,” Gillian offered. “Smooth things over.”
“I’m afraid there’s no smoothing this over,” Kathleen morosely said. “After discussing the matter with Jeannie . . . well, I’ve decided to take her north with me to Lochnagar. Immediately.”
Her pronouncement produced a surprised silence.
“Are you sure that’s the best solution?” Grant cautiously asked. “Jeannie is ... a wee bit of a handful.”
Kathleen bristled. “Are you implying that I can’t control my own sister?”
“Well . . .”
He saw a heartbreaking mix of anxiety, defiance, and vulnerability in her lovely gray gaze. Somehow, in a room full of supportive people, she seemed very alone.
