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“That’s true,” he said. “Your bedroom is right down the hall from mine.”
She’d already noted that fact, too. His room was two doors down, on the right.
“I hadn’t noticed. Is it a nice room?”
He narrowed his gaze. “That is entirely beside the point,Kathleen. Why are you riding about Dunlaggan by yourself? It’s not safe.”
“Well, Grant,” she drawled. “I didn’t come alone. Your grandfather escorted me.”
He made a show of looking around. “Apparently, Angus has added invisibility to his many talents. Either that or you stashed him in the shed, so he wouldn’t annoy you.”
She had to laugh. “Such drastic measures weren’t necessary. Your grandfather escorted me here and then took our horses to tie up behind the pub. I’m to meet him there when I’m finished.”
“He shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“I asked him to keep me company, but apparently gardening is not his forte.”
“Och, I’ll be havin’ a wee chat with him,” Grant said with a scowl. “With yon vicar gone to report to his bishop, ye shouldna be here alone, ye ken.”
She patted his arm, inordinately pleased by his quick transformation into a growling, protective Highlander.
“I’m teasing, sir. Angus kindly volunteered to stay with me, but Mr. Brown’s housekeeper is here, as is the kitchen boy. They’ve been keeping a weather eye on me.”
As if called, Mrs. Adair pushed open one of the vicarage’s casement windows. “Good day to ye, Mr. Kendrick. Can I be gettin’ ye a cup of tea, or something a little stronger?”
Grant waved. “I’m fine, thank you, Mrs. Adair. Just here to escort the lady home when she’s finished up in the garden.”
The housekeeper, a brisk woman in her early fifties, shook her head. “I never thought to see such goings-on in Lochnagar. It’s enough to make a body afraid to go to sleep at night.”
“Try not to worry. We’ll get it sorted,” Grant sympathetically replied. “My brother will be posting a watch in the village both day and night, and we’ll not rest until we bring the poltroons to heel.”
“I ken Sir Graeme will get the best of them eventually. But the villagers are that upset, I can tell ye. It’s nae good all around.”
“Sir Graeme will be speaking to the villagers, too,” Grant assured her.
“Well, I’d best be gettin’ back to my pies,” the housekeeper said. “Give a shout if ye need anythin’.”
“See?” Kathleen said after the window closed. “She’s been hovering all morning like a mother hen with one chick.”
“While that relieves me somewhat, don’t forget this particular crime . . .” He paused to gesture at the garden and kirk. “It happened in broad daylight, yet no one apparently saw anything. That’s alarming.”
She waved her arms with frustration. “How is that even possible?”
He deftly took the clippers. “Careful, or you’ll hurt someone.”
“I’m extremely adept with gardening tools, sir. I only hurt someone when I mean to.”
“Then you should keep a pair with you all the time. And now, time to have a wee rest, I think.” He led her to a rustic stone bench under a nearby ivy-covered trellis.
Kathleen gratefully sank down, since she’d been working steadily all morning under a bright sun. She’d not realized that she needed a respite, but Grant had an eye for that sort of thing. And he seemed to be able to quickly sense what she needed, which was both disconcerting and . . . lovely.
He propped a booted foot on the other end of the bench, leaning a forearm on his thigh. Kathleen tried and failed to avoid staring at the enticing line of rock-hard muscle showcased by his close-fitting breeches and boots.
“In some ways, it was clever of them to pick late morning to do their dirty work,” he said. “The villagers were either working in the shops, at Lochnagar, or at one of the tenant farms. And since the vicarage is at the far end of the village and is somewhat secluded, it made for an inviting target.” He pointed beyond the house. “They must have come over those fields, from the direction of the woods.”
“It is worrisome, I admit. Jeannie’s anxious and upset for Mr. Brown’s sake.”
One of Grant’s brows went up in an ironic tilt. “Which is why Graeme and I suggested you ladies should head back to Glasgow until we track the bast . . . er, the gang down.”
