you might call me ‘William.’ ”
She bent and scooped up her notebook, dusting it off. “I don’t think of you as a William.”
Couldn’t, in fact. In her mind, he was simply MacKenzie .
She straightened and met his gaze, willing her words to behave properly for once. She concentrated on every syllable, determined to get it right. “But please, do call me ‘Pen.’ ” A smile that was anything but serene claimed her lips. “A man who’s kissed me in the moonlight might have earned the p-privilege, hmm?”
C HAPTER F IVE
“S he thinks I’m an idiot.” William frowned at James and David Cameron, who were standing in the library, glasses of port in hand.
The interminable dinner might be finished, but he was unfortunately still dressed in the sort of formal attire that made his feet itch and his neck feel as though hands were closing in, choking the life out of him. Christ, even the plaid was better than this.
But guests for dinner at Kilmartie Castle meant manners, and manners meant neckties.
“No, I’m the one who thinks you are an idiot,” David Cameron chuckled, swirling the port in his glass. “Caroline and her sister think your idea for the Highland Games is a brilliant opportunity for the town.”
William should have felt like smiling. It was good to hear of Caroline’s approval. She was a fine woman, one who spoke her mind and managed her own opinions. She had turned David Cameron around for the better, when it had once seemed he’d been bound for little beyond a life of dissolution. But unfortunately, William felt less concerned with Caroline’s approval than her sister’s. Pen didn’t act as though she thought the games were a good idea.
For some reason, it mattered, and not only because of her role in his plans for Moraig.
“I was given the impression during dinner she was still forming an opinion,” he muttered, staring down into his drink. In point of fact, she had asked everyone at the table their views, scribbling each response down in her notebook, but she had not publicly divulged her own thoughts on the matter.
“You refer to Penelope?” Cameron asked.
William looked up. “You don’t call her ‘Pen’?”
A fair brow shot up. “Do you call her ‘Pen’?”
William’s collar suddenly felt even tighter, though it was already cinched as tight as a miser’s purse. “I . . . ah . . . that is . . . She’s invited me to use her given name,” he admitted.
“And yet, her given name is Penelope ,” Cameron mused. Blue eyes narrowed in William’s direction. “Only Caroline calls her ‘Pen.’ ”
James burst out laughing and slapped William on the back, which had the misfortune of rattling the ribs still sore from his earlier fall. “Perhaps she was more impressed by your cattle than you thought,” James chuckled. “Though I might have chosen something different as tonight’s main course. She looked a wee bit upset when Father proudly told her it was kyloe beef.”
“I only showed her the breeding stock,” William protested. The cows he’d shown Pen were far too valuable to grace a dinner plate. But there was still no doubt he’d felt like a bloody bounder when her eyes had widened and she’d set her fork down firmly.
“Well, have a care. I’ll not have it said you were taking advantage of Caroline’s sister.” Cameron’s initial scowl shifted to a grin. “Although, did you really pretend your cattle were fairies ? Good God, man. I nearly burst a gut when she told us about that. Have you lost your bollocks completely?”
William shrugged off their mirth. He was used to this sort of ribbing, though he was more often on the giving end of it than the receiving end. He refilled his glass, wondering if it might give him the same kind of courage he’d found two nights ago in the whisky. Damn it, what was wrong with him? He’d been a silent, fumbling fool during dinner, and now the moment he opened his mouth, something ridiculous came out. He’d not
She bent and scooped up her notebook, dusting it off. “I don’t think of you as a William.”
Couldn’t, in fact. In her mind, he was simply MacKenzie .
She straightened and met his gaze, willing her words to behave properly for once. She concentrated on every syllable, determined to get it right. “But please, do call me ‘Pen.’ ” A smile that was anything but serene claimed her lips. “A man who’s kissed me in the moonlight might have earned the p-privilege, hmm?”
C HAPTER F IVE
“S he thinks I’m an idiot.” William frowned at James and David Cameron, who were standing in the library, glasses of port in hand.
The interminable dinner might be finished, but he was unfortunately still dressed in the sort of formal attire that made his feet itch and his neck feel as though hands were closing in, choking the life out of him. Christ, even the plaid was better than this.
But guests for dinner at Kilmartie Castle meant manners, and manners meant neckties.
“No, I’m the one who thinks you are an idiot,” David Cameron chuckled, swirling the port in his glass. “Caroline and her sister think your idea for the Highland Games is a brilliant opportunity for the town.”
William should have felt like smiling. It was good to hear of Caroline’s approval. She was a fine woman, one who spoke her mind and managed her own opinions. She had turned David Cameron around for the better, when it had once seemed he’d been bound for little beyond a life of dissolution. But unfortunately, William felt less concerned with Caroline’s approval than her sister’s. Pen didn’t act as though she thought the games were a good idea.
For some reason, it mattered, and not only because of her role in his plans for Moraig.
“I was given the impression during dinner she was still forming an opinion,” he muttered, staring down into his drink. In point of fact, she had asked everyone at the table their views, scribbling each response down in her notebook, but she had not publicly divulged her own thoughts on the matter.
“You refer to Penelope?” Cameron asked.
William looked up. “You don’t call her ‘Pen’?”
A fair brow shot up. “Do you call her ‘Pen’?”
William’s collar suddenly felt even tighter, though it was already cinched as tight as a miser’s purse. “I . . . ah . . . that is . . . She’s invited me to use her given name,” he admitted.
“And yet, her given name is Penelope ,” Cameron mused. Blue eyes narrowed in William’s direction. “Only Caroline calls her ‘Pen.’ ”
James burst out laughing and slapped William on the back, which had the misfortune of rattling the ribs still sore from his earlier fall. “Perhaps she was more impressed by your cattle than you thought,” James chuckled. “Though I might have chosen something different as tonight’s main course. She looked a wee bit upset when Father proudly told her it was kyloe beef.”
“I only showed her the breeding stock,” William protested. The cows he’d shown Pen were far too valuable to grace a dinner plate. But there was still no doubt he’d felt like a bloody bounder when her eyes had widened and she’d set her fork down firmly.
“Well, have a care. I’ll not have it said you were taking advantage of Caroline’s sister.” Cameron’s initial scowl shifted to a grin. “Although, did you really pretend your cattle were fairies ? Good God, man. I nearly burst a gut when she told us about that. Have you lost your bollocks completely?”
William shrugged off their mirth. He was used to this sort of ribbing, though he was more often on the giving end of it than the receiving end. He refilled his glass, wondering if it might give him the same kind of courage he’d found two nights ago in the whisky. Damn it, what was wrong with him? He’d been a silent, fumbling fool during dinner, and now the moment he opened his mouth, something ridiculous came out. He’d not
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