Highland Heiress - By Margaret Moore Page 0,52
have believed that explanation if Big Jack had been here by himself. Since Lillibet was with him, it seemed more plausible. Unfortunately, however, as she knew from sad experience, a daughter might be all too willing to make excuses for an errant parent’s behavior.
“Is that so, MacKracken?” she asked, nudging her horse a little closer.
“Aye, my lady,” he said, his face reddening beneath the soot as he twisted his equally filthy cap in his big hands.
She halted her horse and, after a moment’s hesitation, dismounted. “I thought you didn’t approve of my school.”
“Well, my lady, it’s like this,” the big man began, shuffling his feet like an embarrassed lad. “I didn’t hold with it, but that don’t mean I’m willin’ to let some ruffians come to Dunbrachie and burn anything. Seems the least I can do is offer a bit of a hand with the cleaning up.”
It was a start, anyway. “I’m grateful for your help,” she answered sincerely. She was about to offer to pay him, when Robbie’s stinging words about being an arrogant Lady Bountiful came to her mind. “Thank you.”
Nevertheless she simply couldn’t let this opportunity to speak on behalf of his children pass without further comment. “Perhaps when my school’s rebuilt, you’ll let Lillibet come. She’s a very clever girl—just the sort any shopkeeper would be happy to hire if she could read and do figures.”
“I’ll think on it,” Big Jack muttered, glancing down at his daughter, who looked up at him as if she’d just been given a seat at a banquet.
Moira didn’t press him further. “Will you show me what you’ve done?”
“Aye, my lady,” he replied with a nod.
“A most excellent recovery,” the doctor said two days later as he packed up his medical bag after examining the bandage over Gordon’s eye and his side, leaving his patient to gingerly button his nightshirt. “I think another day or two, and you should be able to ride in a carriage. Not if it goes a gallop, of course, but a nice leisurely journey should be possible.”
“Thank you, Doctor, for your excellent care,” Gordon replied, knowing he should sound happy, even if he wasn’t.
Well, he was glad to hear he was healing; he wasn’t so happy to hear he could leave, even though he had no right to stay.
Mrs. McAlvey, standing near the door, delicately cleared her throat. “I had a most excellent nurse, too,” Gordon said.
“Indeed, you have. Mrs. McAlvey is one of the best.”
The older woman justifiably beamed. “I’ll be glad to continue, if you need my help when you go home.”
“Thank you,” Gordon said.
“Ah, my lady!” the doctor exclaimed as Lady Moira herself appeared on the threshold.
As always, she was simply but exquisitely dressed, her glossy brown hair modestly styled, her gown a day dress of pale green sprigged muslin. Most beautiful of all was her shy smile, yet it was even more thrilling to know that beneath that bashful exterior lurked an amazingly passionate woman.
Even though she had only looked in on him briefly at night and in the morning for the past two days, his admiration and desire had not diminished. If anything, his appreciation for her excellent qualities and his own passionate yearnings had increased, so that he longed for those few brief moments in her company or even just a glimpse of her smile.
“I don’t know what you’ve been feeding this young man,” the doctor declared, “but his recovery is remarkable. Mr. McHeath should be quite fit to travel in another day or two.”
“So soon?”
He mustn’t attach any significance to her surprised query. Or think that was disappointment in her doe-brown eyes. He’d learned the folly of thinking a woman’s reaction or expressions meant more than they did. Hadn’t he?
“If he wishes,” Dr. Campbell confirmed.
And he really had to go home. “My clients were expecting me to return in a fortnight,” he said as much to himself as to her and the others.
“Sir Robert came when you were first brought here and he said he would inform someone named Mitford,” she replied.
How difficult it must have been for her to talk to Robbie—another debt he could likely never repay. “Mitford’s a solicitor friend who’s working with my clients while I’m away. But he has his own practice, so I shouldn’t be away longer than necessary.”
Even if he wanted to.
He couldn’t gauge her reaction to that.
“Will Mr. McHeath be well enough to travel all the way to Edinburgh, Doctor?”
The doctor’s brow furrowed. “I had assumed he would be returning to