The Heiress Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 3)

Good grief, Sinjun thought, momentarily stunned. Aunt Arleth sounded like a thoroughly nasty old bird. She said, calmly enough, even with a smile hovering, “That’s right. The poor boy is very noble and pragmatic. So you shouldn’t want to send me away, because I’m here for a higher purpose than your governesses.”

“Aunt Serena said that Papa had your money now and that maybe you’d go to heaven, like my mama.”

“Dahling! Shut your mouth!”

Colin strode into the bedchamber, his eyes on the little girl, who was gazing at him with adoration and now some perturbation, because he hadn’t sounded pleased with her. Sinjun stared at him. He looked stern and forbidding, striding into the room, the laird, the master, the earl, and he looked harassed.

“She was just giving me the family news, Colin,” Sinjun said mildly. “Surely you want me to know what Aunt Arleth and Aunt Serena think of me. I have also decided that you’re right and Dahling just might be a Great Beauty. Lord knows she’s precocious. But she does need some new gowns. More than enough reason, don’t you think, that I accompany you back to Edinburgh?”

“No. Dahling, go to your aunt Serena. You’ll be dining with us at the big table tonight. Go now.”

Dahling scooted off the bed, looked back at Sinjun, shook her head, and skipped from the room.

“What was she telling you?”

“Just children talk, Colin, about everything and about nothing. As I told you, I quite like children and I’m with them a lot, what with my three nephews and all of Ryder’s Beloved Ones. Why the devil didn’t you tell me about them?”

She saw then that Colin could be just like Douglas and Ryder and Tysen. She supposed that it was a trait all men shared. When they were clearly in the wrong, or when a topic wasn’t to their liking or made them uncomfortable, why then, they simply ignored it. He said now, “What did she say?”

However, living with three brothers had taught her perseverance. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He raked his fingers through his black hair, making it stand on end. “Damnation, Joan, it doesn’t matter now.”

Sinjun leaned back against the pillows, pulling the covers over her more securely. “I can see your point of view, Colin. Actually, I can see it quite clearly. You were afraid I wouldn’t want you for a husband if you’d told me I’d be the proud stepmother of two children who chase away every governess that you or your wife ever hired. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know, dammit.”

“Are there any more little surprises you’ve got waiting for me? Perhaps a mistress in one of those castle towers, who has long golden hair and unrolls it out of the window to pull you up? How about a couple of illegitimate children wandering about? Or perhaps a mad uncle locked away in the Tudor section in a priest hole?”

“Do you have a gown to wear this evening?”

“Yes, but I’ll need Emma to press it for me. I do have only one, Colin. Are there any more surprises?”

“I’ll get Emma, and no, there aren’t, except . . . how did you know about Great-uncle Maximilian? He is mad, true, and he does howl at the full moon every month, but who could have told you? Normally he’s content to quote Rabbie Burns and drink gin.”

“I will assume you’re jesting.”

“Yes, damn you, I am. But the children, that’s different. They’re just children, Joan, and they’re smart little beasts, and they’re mine. I hope you won’t take them into dislike and abuse them just because you’re angry at me for not telling you about them.”

“As in throw rocks at them?”

“I’m serious.”

“Perhaps, then, I can throw rocks at you?”

“If you’re well enough to throw rocks, why then, you’re well enough for me to take you again tonight.” He felt instant guilt, because she actually paled at his words. “Oh, stop it! I’m not a damned savage.”

“I’m relieved. How many governesses have Philip and Dahling enjoyed, say, in the past two years?”

“I don’t know. Not more than three, maybe four. Fiona didn’t like one of them, so the children weren’t responsible. The last one was a fainting ninny and she had no guts.”

“No guts, huh? All right, please tell Emma to press my gown for me. I will have it for her when I have unpacked my valise.”

“She will do that for you.”

“No, I prefer to.”

“How do you feel?”