The Highlander And The Governess - Michelle Willingham Untamed Highlanders

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about.

      His grandfather had built the glasshouse for his wife, and it contained some of the more exotic plants and trees that were too fragile for Scottish weather.

      Miss Goodson appeared in awe of the building, and for a moment, she was quiet as she explored the plants. When she reached one of the trees, she asked, ‘Is this a banana tree?’

      ‘Aye. My mother had it brought over from the Caribbean.’

      She reached up to touch the tiny green bananas as if she could not believe they were real. ‘I’ve never seen a banana tree before. It’s smaller than I thought it would be.’

      ‘This one is,’ he agreed. ‘But they can grow much larger. We have to keep it inside the glasshouse.’

      ‘I wonder what else your mother will bring back from her travels?’ Miss Goodson mused. ‘It sounds fascinating.’

      ‘Ever since my father died, she has spent most of her time in different countries. She tries to bring me a gift from each country she visits.’ It was part of the truth. Catrina had been devastated at Tavin’s death. While Lachlan had shut himself away from the outside world, his mother had consoled herself by running away. The travel expenses were very dear, but Lachlan didn’t have the heart to cut her off. It was her way of managing her own grief.

      ‘How wonderful. She sounds like an adventurous lady.’

      Adventurous was one way of describing his mother. But Catrina reminded him of a gust of wind, moving wherever she chose, heedless of whoever she knocked over along the way. It was more peaceful when she was gone. But when she returned, he intended to have words with her about her decision to hire a governess.

      ‘When I thought you had a daughter, I imagined teaching her about botany in an environment just like this,’ Miss Goodson said. ‘Only there are so many plants I’ve never seen; your mother would likely know more than I.’ She drew closer to a flower and leaned in to inhale the fragrance. ‘Any child who would grow up in a home like this would be very fortunate.’

      ‘Then you understand why I must do anything to protect it,’ he said quietly.

      Miss Goodson nodded. ‘I do understand.’ With a smile, she added, ‘And I am positive that Lady Regina will be delighted to marry you.’ She softened her tone and said, ‘I know that you don’t want me here, Locharr. But please trust that I have your best intentions in mind. I want to help you.’

      ‘In other words, you want to tell me what to do.’

      ‘Only to guide you. And because of it, you will become the most desirable bachelor in London.’

      ‘You have only today,’ he reminded her. ‘What could you possibly teach me in that time?’

      Her green eyes warmed with interest. ‘Wait and see.’

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      Frances knew she would have to use unconventional lessons to attract the interest of the laird. He had no faith in her, and she had to prove her usefulness. She sensed that Locharr was a man of a competitive nature. And she thought of a way to win a third day at the castle.

      ‘Do you play cards, Locharr?’ she asked.

      ‘Only when I’m planning to win money.’ His gaze narrowed, and his scar stood out on his face, reminding her of a pirate. Which made her imagine being stolen away by a handsome buccaneer. Her brain really needed to stop thinking of such things.

      But she squared her shoulders and forced herself to concentrate. ‘I was thinking we could make a wager. What do you think?’

      His expression grew interested, his pirate smile making her imagination conjure up more inappropriate visions of conquest. ‘For what stakes?’

      ‘If I win, you will complete a lesson and allow me to stay another day. If you win, I shall help you with anything you desire.’

      ‘Anything?’ he mused, and her face reddened at the sudden innuendo.

      Not that. But she pretended as if there was nothing untoward about her words. ‘Within reason,’ she corrected.

      He eyed her with interest and shrugged. ‘I suppose we could play whist.’

      ‘Where shall we have our game?’ she asked. ‘Elspeth can come and chaperon again.’

      ‘In the parlour,’ he said. ‘But Elspeth may be tired from her walk this afternoon. She may wish to rest in her room instead.’

      No. Being unchaperoned and alone with a pirate was a Very Bad Idea. ‘Or Elspeth might also welcome the chance to sit for an hour,’ Frances countered.

      ‘I don’t ken why we need a chaperon. I’m no’ about to try and seduce you.’

      She blinked at that. Well, then. He’d made his opinion quite clear. Frances cleared her throat and said, ‘It’s merely a habit you must acquire, Locharr. In London, you may not go anywhere without a chaperon. Whether your intention is seduction or not.’

      He frowned at that. ‘It seems like a waste of time.’

      It was clear that he didn’t understand what she meant. ‘It is always necessary to have a chaperon. It’s protection for you, or else you might find yourself the target of another young lady’s interest. And unless you wish to wed her, you’d best never be alone with her.’ Her tone came out sharper than she’d intended, but he needed to understand the gravity of the situation. For a moment, he stared at her in a silent war of wills. Frances crossed her arms, refusing to yield.

      Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought she detected a faint note of approval from the laird. And he did call out to Alban, ordering Elspeth to join them in the parlour.

      Frances tried not to gape as they walked through the halls. Although she had spent the night here, she could not resist smiling at the white columns that encircled the spiral staircase leading up. Truly, this was a magnificent castle fit for a princess.

      The laird stopped in front of a smaller room and led her inside. She paused a moment to admire the parlour. ‘This is lovely.’

      And it was. The crimson wallpaper was cheerful, and she liked the cosy hearth, even if there was no fire in the grate.

      ‘There are too many paintings,’ Lachlan countered. ‘Eight landscapes is too much for one wall.’

      ‘It gives one the opportunity to study a different painting each time,’ she said tactfully, though privately she agreed that it was indeed a lot of art for one room. A large portrait of an older nobleman hung over the fireplace, and Frances rather thought the man was leering at her.

      MacKinloch led her to a smaller gaming table, and then he went to find a deck of playing cards. Frances shuffled the deck and remarked, ‘We really ought to have two more players for this game. Elspeth could join us. Or possibly Alban.’

      ‘She may not want to play,’ he pointed out. ‘And Alban has his duties to attend.’

      ‘Well, we can offer.’ She felt badly that the older woman had been required to traipse around the castle grounds and now had to sit in a chair.

      ‘She’s as deaf as a fence post. And I’m no’ in the mood to be shouting.’

      ‘You needn’t be rude or insensitive,’ Frances countered. ‘She cannot help her inability to hear.’

      ‘She’s lucky to be employed,’ he muttered, and Frances pretended not to notice.

      When the elderly woman arrived in the parlour, Lachlan motioned for Elspeth to sit on the far side of the room. She sank gratefully into a chair, leaning back. ‘Thank you, Locharr!’ she shouted.

      Frances was taken aback by the woman’s bellowing, but she approached Elspeth. In a loud voice, she asked the maid, ‘Would you care to play whist?’

      The

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