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Braden’s eye twitched. “I told him that he could help me at the clinic.”
Bathsheba covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
“Grandda used to doctor us when we were bairns,” Kade explained. “The results were sometimes less than successful, but he remains convinced that he’s a natural-born healer.”
“I still remember that time he dosed us all with wormwood.” Braden shook his head. “I thought that was the end of us.”
Samantha pressed a hand to her lips, also trying not to laugh. Wormwood could have powerful effects on the digestive system.
“Such fond childhood memories,” Logan sardonically said. “Lady Samantha, may I fetch you a drink? A sherry, or perhaps something stronger?”
“A small glass of sherry would probably be best.”
Bathsheba scowled. “God forbid Lord Beath should see you drink of a glass of whisky. I honestly cannot wait until you are out from under that dreadful man’s thumb, Samantha.”
“Speaking of which,” Braden said in a warning tone.
They all stood as Lord Beath entered the room with Donella. He paused for several moments, frowning at the noise of the children as they worked on the tree.
“Drat,” Samantha said. “He’s already in a bad mood.”
Bathsheba winked at her. “I’ll be sure to lean over him on a regular basis. My bosom seems to cheer him up.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that,” John answered in a bone-dry tone.
She patted her husband’s shoulder. “All in a good cause, my love.”
Donella gently clapped her hands to draw everyone’s attention. “Children, Lord Beath has arrived. Please come and greet him.”
“Excuse me,” Samantha murmured.
She hurried over to Felicity, who hung back at the tree with Angus, clearly reluctant to greet her grandfather.
“The lass is a wee bit worried, ye ken,” Angus murmured.
Samantha took Felicity’s hand, squeezing it for courage. Then she led the girl over to Beath.
“Ah, there you are, Samantha,” he intoned.
He cast a critical gaze over both her and Felicity, and then gave a slight nod. “My granddaughter is looking quite well. I’m pleased to see you both dressed as you should.”
Donella, who was standing slightly behind Beath, rolled her eyes.
Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Samantha curtsied, as did Felicity. They’d been practicing, so Felicity’s curtsy was, for once, on point.
“Thank you, sir,” Samantha replied. “We’re very pleased to see you.”
Beath harrumphed. “So you should be. The weather is quite disgraceful tonight. I was most loath to go out.”
“Lord Beath, you already know Miss Mary Blackmore, of course,” Donella smoothly interjected. “May I introduce my son and daughter? This is Joseph, and Pippa.”
Pippa looked like a little angel in a white cambric gown tied with a gold sash, and her hair trimmed with lacy ribbons.
“Good evening, Lord Beath,” she said in her sweet little voice. “Mamma says it is a great honor to meet you. Thank you for coming to our party.”
Beath actually unbent enough to smile. “You’re welcome, child.”
Although Pippa was a truly adorable bairn, Samantha couldn’t help feeling resentful for Felicity’s sake. Rarely did Beath so much as smile at his own granddaughter.
