A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,43

guilty astonishment. “What? Nay, never!”

She saw through that bluster. “I don’t like it, Papa,” she told him firmly. “I don’t need a keeper, and if you don’t mind your own business, I’ll upset her so dramatically she’ll come storming back to your house. You’ve still got no housekeeper and plenty of spare rooms . . .”

Papa jumped up, eyes flashing and brows drawn. “I had perfectly good reasons for putting you and Jean together. You don’t know everything, my girl, and you can’t run about on your own, like a man. You’re still my daughter, and I—”

“I am my own person,” she said with a warning glance. “I married Malcolm, as you wished, and I allowed Jean to come live with me because I am fond of her. But I am a woman grown, and I won’t be manipulated.”

“Manipulated?” He affected a wounded expression. “I’m your papa! Your welfare matters more to me than anything else in this world, lass. Ye spear me through the heart when ye speak so.”

Ilsa sighed. He did think he was acting in a paternal, protective way. “Stop trying to control me.”

“Control? Nay, ’tis concern for your well-being,” he said indignantly. “And my duty until death.”

She blinked in surprise. “My future husband might object to that.”

Her father jerked. “Future husband? Who? Who is he? Have you accepted someone when you’ve not even admitted to me you’re considering marriage?”

“No,” she said, taken aback by his vehemence. “But if I did, he’d not welcome your interference in our life, either.” She’d only mentioned a husband because he teased her about it every time they spoke. Now, though, he seemed quite startled and unprepared by the idea.

“Ah.” Papa visibly relaxed. “If you are ready to marry again, why, Mr. Grant spoke so highly of you. Or that dashing Sir Philip Hamilton, over in St. Andrew’s Square, would be lucky to have you, and he just bought a very fine new set of drawing room furniture, which sets my mind at ease that he could provide for you . . .”

“Good-bye, Papa.” She kissed his cheek. “I will see you in a few days.”

He walked her out. “All right, then, have your little adventure with the Misses St. James. But mind you come home safe and sound to me, or I’ll have to order the apprentices to take up their chisels and awls, and lead my own army to rescue you.”

She laughed with him and left. Yes, she did want to have a little adventure. But she wasn’t so sure about coming home to her father.

Chapter Ten

The party set out on a fine sunny morning. It was almost fifty miles to Stormont Palace, and on his own Drew would have done it in a day. Instead, he bowed to his mother’s wishes and they stopped for the night at an inn near Kinross.

Drew purposely kept his distance from Ilsa. Not only did he wish to prove Duncan wrong about staring at her, but she was always with his sisters, particularly Agnes. Since Agnes was still throwing around sharp looks whenever Felix Duncan opened his mouth, this wasn’t as difficult as expected. Thankfully Monteith and Kincaid were jolly companions, and Winnie and Bella were on better behavior than usual.

He kept his attention resolutely elsewhere and remembered that he had brought all this on himself. He could have ridden to Perth alone and made his inspection in peace and solitude. No one would have teased him, as Bella did, or given him a hard time about the journey, as Monteith did, or scolded him for drinking too much, as his mother tried . . . or given him a small, intimate smile, as Ilsa did when they passed each other on the stairs.

So overall, it was worth it.

They turned into the gates of Stormont Palace in the late afternoon, as the slanting sun gilded the sandstone to deep bronze. Ivy spread like a spiderweb up the walls of the house, though the front was clear of it as they came along the winding drive.

Drew had been riding beside the first carriage with his mother and Bella and Winnie. Aside from one shocked exclamation and a long look at him, his mother made no response after sighting the house. Bella and Winnie, on the other hand, kept up a furious pelter of questions directed at Drew, ignoring Mother’s admonishments not to shout or to hang out the windows of the carriage.

As they drew nearer, he slowed his horse to fall back to