Hit Me With Your Best Scot (Wild Wicked Highlanders #3) - Suzanne Enoch Page 0,20

a man now, at least on paper, even if she didn’t particularly want him—and even if he didn’t seem to be present. Niall took the chair opposite her and set a heaping plate of biscuits on the table. Jane reached for one of the treats, and for a second Amelia-Rose thought Niall might pull the plate away. “You appear to be hungry,” she noted.

“Aye. I dunnae see the point of a shop that serves a drink but nae any food. A man could starve to death.” He wolfed down a biscuit and then a second one.

The cups of coffee arrived at the table, and she took a sip of the hot, rich brew before adding a trio of sugar lumps. As Niall alternated between biscuits and gulps of coffee she watched him. A man with an appetite, clearly. Was it just for food, she wondered, then blushed at the thought.

This had nothing at all to do with the morning she’d imagined for herself, but at the moment she couldn’t call it disappointing. Even so, her mother would ask how she’d gotten along with Lord Glendarril, whether they’d dealt better today than they had last night.

“I can’t help noticing,” she said aloud, “that your brother doesn’t seem to be here.”

Niall looked up at her. “Aye, he does seem to be a wee bit tardy, doesnae?” he said around a honey biscuit. “Mayhap he found a broken carriage and stopped to hold it up while they change the wheel.”

“So he’s heroic, is he?”

“Oh, aye. Pulled a trio of sheep out of a bog all on his own just a fortnight ago. He had to go for a swim in Loch an Daimh just to get the top layer of muck off himself. I’m surprised he didnae get mistaken for a cirein cròin and get himself shot.”

“What’s a … one of those?” she asked, deciding not even to attempt the pronunciation.

“A cirein cròin? A great sea monster. It can eat half a dozen whales at one go.”

She snorted, covering her mouth with her hand in a belated effort to hide the sound. “He is very large,” she agreed while Jane elbowed her beneath the table.

“That he is. One time we were repairing the thatch of Widow MacDougal’s roof, and he fell right through onto her bed and broke that, too. I think the old lass wishes she’d been in the bed when he fell, but she’d have been flat as a plank. She did get a fresh roof and a new bed for her trouble, though. Coll saw to that.”

“Is Widow MacDougal one of your tenants?”

“One of our cotters, aye.”

So he meant to spend the morning until Lord Glendarril’s arrival telling tales of what a fine man his brother was. That was well and good, but she preferred to judge for herself. And carefully chosen tales did not paint an entire portrait, anyway. “Does your brother assume all women are empty-headed watering pots?”

That made him frown. “He doesnae.”

“Just me, then?”

“Lass, I—”

“I propose a game of questions and answers,” she broke in. “With no lies allowed.”

Tilting his head, he ate another biscuit. “Nae. A reckon ye want to try to trick me into saying Coll’s nae fit for polite company, and that’s nae so. I ken ye’ve heard tales of Highlands barbarians. Well, we’ve heard tales of delicate, fainting Sassenach lasses. Ye werenae what he expected, is all.”

“Fair enough,” she conceded. “And yet I cannot help but notice that he still isn’t here.” Should it have mollified her that Coll MacTaggert hadn’t planned on a marriage, either, and didn’t particularly want one? It didn’t; at least she’d attempted to play her part. She hadn’t blamed him for all her troubles, at least.

“Coll’s stubborn. He’ll come to the proper conclusion; it may take him a day or two, though. In the meantime, have a biscuit.” He scooted the plate in her direction.

He, and the biscuits, were obviously meant as a distraction, but they both looked tasty. And if she hesitated, the biscuits, at least, would all be gone before she had a chance even to sample one. As for him, thinking about that delicious-looking subject wouldn’t harm anything, she supposed. A little amused despite herself, she selected a sugared treat.

Whether Coll MacTaggert was being cowardly or heroic, the fact remained that he was not there. Perhaps this could work to her advantage. Telling her parents that Lord Glendarril hadn’t bothered to appear could cause them to cancel their agreement with Lady Aldriss. That would set