To Tame A Highland Warrior Page 8


Elizabeth St. Clair, née Sacheron, nibbled her lower lip in silence.

“You know how you’ve been longing to see our new grandson,” he reminded her. “Let’s just go on with our visit and see what happens. I promise you that none of the men I’ve chosen will harm a hair on our precious daughter’s head. They might muss it up a bit, but that will be well and good for her. Our impeccable Jillian is long overdue for some mussing.”

“You expect me to just go off and leave her with three men? Those kind of men?”

“Elizabeth, those kind of men are the only kind of men who will not worship her. Besides, I was once one of those kind of men, if you’ll recall. It will take an uncommon man for our uncommon daughter, Elizabeth,” he added more gently. “I aim to find her that uncommon man.”

Elizabeth sighed and blew a tendril of hair from her face. “I suppose you’ve the right of it,” she murmured. “She truly hasn’t met a man who didn’t worship her. I wonder, how do you think she’ll react when she does?”

“I suspect she might not know what to do at first. It may throw her badly off balance. But I’m wagering one of the men I’ve selected will help her figure it out,” Gibraltar said smoothly.

Alarm vanquished Elizabeth’s despondence instantly. “That’s it. We’ll just have to go back. I can’t be somewhere else when my daughter is experiencing these woman things for the first time. God only knows what some man will try to teach my daughter or how he’ll try to teach it to her, not to mention how shocked she’s certain to be. I can’t be off visiting while my daughter is being bullied and bamboozled out of her maidenhead—it simply won’t do! We’ll have to go home.” She gazed expectantly at her husband, awaiting his nod of agreement.

“Elizabeth.” Gibraltar said her name very quietly.

“Gibraltar?” Her tone was wary.

“We are not turning back. We are going to visit our son to attend our grandson’s christening and spend a few months, as planned.”

“Does Jillian know what you’ve done?” Elizabeth asked icily.

Gibraltar shook his head. “She hasn’t a suspicion in her pretty head.”

“What about the men? Don’t you think they will tell her?”

Gibraltar grinned wickedly. “I didn’t tell them. I simply commanded their attendance. But Hatchard knows and is prepared to inform them at a suitable time.”

Elizabeth was shocked. “You told no one but our chief man-at-arms?”

“Hatchard is a wise man. And she needs this, Elizabeth. She needs to find her own way. Besides,” he provoked, “what man would dare bamboozle a lass’s maidenhead with her mother hovering at her elbow?”

“Och! My mother, my da, my seven brothers, and my grandparents being in attendance didn’t stop you from bamboozling mine. Or abducting me.”

Gibraltar chuckled. “Are you sorry I did?”

Elizabeth gave him a steamy look from beneath her lashes that assured him to the contrary.

“So you see, sometimes a man knows best, don’t you think, my dear?”

She didn’t reply for a moment, but Gibraltar didn’t mind. He knew Elizabeth trusted him with her life. She just needed some time to get used to his plan and to accept the fact that their daughter needed a loving push over the edge of the nest.

When Elizabeth finally spoke, resignation buffered her words. “Just which three men did you choose without my discerning insight and consent?”

“Well, there’s Quinn de Moncreiffe.” Gibraltar’s gaze never strayed from her face.

Quinn was blond, handsome and daring. He’d sailed black-flag for the King before he’d inherited his titles and now commanded a fleet of merchant ships, from which he’d trebled his clan’s already considerable fortune. Gibraltar had fostered Quinn when he’d been a young lad, and Elizabeth had always favored him.

“Good man.” A lift of a perfect golden brow betrayed grudging admiration for her husband’s wisdom. “And?”

“Ramsay Logan.”

“Oh!” Elizabeth’s eyes grew round. “When I saw him at court he was clad in black from head to toe. He looked as dangerously attractive as a man could be. How is it that some woman hasn’t snatched him up? Do go on, Gibraltar. This is becoming quite promising. Who’s the third?”

“We’re lagging too far behind the guards, Elizabeth,” Gibraltar evaded glibly. “The Highlands have been peaceful lately, but we can’t be too careful. We must catch up.” He shifted in his saddle, grasped her reins, and urged her to follow.