Rogue of the High Seas (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

When she returned from the charitable home, Shauna went in search of Abigail and nearly tripped over her own feet when she saw Colette in the parlor, having tea.

“Come join us,” Abigail said. “How did your visit go?”

“Verra good,” Shauna said as she sank into a chair and raised her hand to decline a cup of tea. “The new patient has a son who visits. I always feel sorry for the ones who doona have visitors.”

Colette looked at her with interest. “Abigail told me you volunteer with the elderly? It must be
difficile
—difficult—to do that.”

“Nae. I enjoy it. They get lonely.”

“How noble.”

Shauna shook her head. 'Tis the Highland way to care for our parents and grandparents in their old age. Since I am nae in Glenfinnan, I do what I can here.”

A wistful look passed over the French girl's face and Shauna remembered she'd just lost her mother last year. “Och, I should nae have brought up my family. I ken ye still have sad memories.”

“Each week that passes helps,” Colette said. “My painting helps too. I did several portraits of
Maman
, but Papa cannot look at them.”

“You must give him time,” Abigail said.

“
Oui
. One of the reasons I wanted to make this trip was to spend time with Papa.”

“I am sure your father feels the same way. He told Shane he did not want you left alone in France for months.”

“
O, que
.” Colette waved her hand in the air. “I would have done quite well at the house. We have plenty of servants. I let Papa think I did not feel safe, so he would bring me and not be alone.” She smiled. “I find I am the one alone here since Papa has been so busy.”

“I would welcome your company,” Abigail said, “whenever you would like to call.”

“
Merci
, but I do not wish to burden you.”

“You will not be a burden, especially since Shane insists I do not work at the office for now. With the twins gone and Shauna doing charity work, I shall go stark raving mad sitting about the house all day.”

“Shane should nae be ordering ye to stay home,” Shauna said. “Perhaps I should talk to him.”

“No,” Abigail said quickly and then grinned. “We…er, resolved that issue rather…er, satisfactorily.”

Shauna felt her cheeks flush as she recalled her cousin and Abigail ordering dinner sent to their bedchamber and not putting in an appearance downstairs for nearly twenty-four hours. She'd assumed they were arguing. Shauna frowned. “Ye are going to let him tell ye what to do?”

A twinkle appeared in Abigail's eyes behind her spectacles. “Actually, he
asked
rather nicely by the time we finished our…er, conversation.”

Colette laughed too. “Sometimes we have to let the men think they win,
non
?”

“Well, it is better to pick battles we know we can win,” Abigail replied and looked at Shauna. “You will understand once you are married.”

“Did you say yes to Owen?” Colette asked. “How wonderful.”

“
Nae
.” Shauna didn't have to see Abigail's eyebrows lift to know her tone sounded harsh. “I mean…we have nae discussed marriage.”

“Oh.” Colette looked disappointed. “I wanted to paint you as a couple once I finish Robert's portrait.”

Robert. Had Colette been spending time with him while Shauna thought he was working on his ship? Not that it was her business, she told herself sternly. “How much longer will his portrait take?”

“I have not started.” Colette looked at Abigail. “One of the reasons I called today was to ask if you could point out some natural areas that I could use as a background.”

“Ye doona want to paint Captain Henderson on his ship?” Shauna asked.

“Oh, no. Even though he may captain a ship, I think he is a very introspective person. Artists see these things.” She smiled. “I want to paint him outdoors, away from civilization, in a very private and quiet setting.”

She stared at the girl. Colette wanted to spend hours alone with Robert? Away from civilization? In a
private
setting?

Shauna suddenly felt as though she'd swallowed a big piece of coal.

What the hell was MacLean doing at the dock office again? The last time Robert had come to the office, the man had practically been pressing himself against Shauna at the counter. This afternoon, he was hovering over her shoulder as she sat at the desk. She looked up as Robert entered and an odd expression flashed across her face. It was gone before he could identify what it was.

“Captain Henderson. I dinnae ken ye would be stopping by.”

He'd asked her to call him Robert. Why was she being so formal? Because MacLean was here? The man gave him a cold stare as he straightened and put a hand on the back of Shauna's chair. The move was a possessive one, meant to tell Robert to back off, but he was not easily intimidated. He stared back.

“Where is Albert?”

Shauna's eyes widened at his sharp tone. He hadn't meant to bark the question, but damn it, why was she alone with MacLean?

“I sent him to pick up a document I needed from Mr. Frazier,” Owen said.

“Isn't it a little unusual to send someone who doesn't work for you on an errand?”

Owen smiled slowly. “In a manner of speaking, Albert does now.”

Now? Robert kept his face impassive, although his blood pounded in his ears. Did MacLean mean he was soon to be a part of the family? Had Shauna agreed to his proposal? He glanced at Shauna.

As if sensing his unspoken question, or maybe she just felt the hostility in the air—it was as thick as sea fog—she shook her head. “Owen is planning to harvest kelp from Loch Shiel to make his father's estate more productive. Shane left some profitability reports with Mr. Frazier.”

So why hadn't the bastard just said that? Robert knew the answer his question. The man was trying to claim rights that weren't his to claim. Not yet anyway. At least Owen had lost a little of his smugness at Shauna's explanation.

“Is Frazier thinking about going into the business as well?” Robert asked to divert the subject. He thought he saw something flicker in Shauna's eyes.

“I am nae sure.” She frowned. “I doona get included in the conversations.”

“There is no reason for you to fret about business matters,” Owen said in a pacifying tone.

Robert saw the merest twitch of a muscle in Shauna's jaw and he almost laughed. Some women may not want to
fret
about business matters, but Shauna MacLeod was not one of them. She had a quick, sharp mind. If MacLean couldn't see that, the man was not only a fool, but he didn't deserve her.

“So what brings you here, Henderson?” Owen asked.

“Some lumber I ordered came in and Albert has the invoice.” Robert stifled a grin as he took the empty chair close to the desk. “I'll just wait here until he gets back.”

After the way Owen and Robert had glowered at each other in the office yesterday afternoon—thankfully, Albert had returned within the half-hour—Shauna wasn't at all sure it was a wise idea to have them both to dinner at the same time. However, she didn't want to draw Shane's attention to their discord, so she'd remained silent when Abigail had suggested a weekly Saturday night dinner that would include Mr. Frazier and Colette as well. Colette was another contention Shauna didn't want to bring up.

So here they all were. Owen sat beside her as he had last time. Colette's father and Robert were across the table from him, but Colette had managed to sit on the other side of Robert tonight. And Shauna was pretty sure she'd moved her chair a little closer to Robert too.

She sighed. Abigail liked to have balance at the table, so she always had even numbers of place settings when they had guests. Tonight's table had been set for eight with only seven people. Shauna liked evenness as well, but for once, she wished they'd left the table somewhat askew. If they had, Colette would be sitting on the other side of Owen instead of smiling prettily beside Robert.

“I am so looking forward to starting your portrait,” Colette said to him. “Perhaps we could discuss a time?”

“I don't know that it can be soon,” Robert replied. “I want to take advantage of the break in the rain and snow we've had to get my rudder repaired.”

“
Certainement
.” She managed to sound gracious and look disappointed at the same time. “I offered to do a wedding portrait for Mr. MacLean and Shauna, but I wanted to do yours first.”

Robert turned his gaze on Shauna. His eyes had gone darker, but his expression was as immobile as a faro player's. “You are betrothed?”

Shauna tried to keep herself from glaring at Colette. Hadn't she just told the woman Thursday that marriage hadn't been discussed? “Nae—”

“But it is only a matter of time,” Owen cut in and picked up her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles. “I have arrangements to make first.”

Shauna fought the urge to jerk her hand back, silently berating herself for not having kept her hand in her lap, but she'd been about to pick up her fork. Instead, she slipped her hand away on the pretense of reaching for her water glass. How dare Owen make such assumptions?

Robert shifted his gaze to Owen, but he said nothing.

Shane frowned. “What arrangements do ye have in mind?”

Owen smiled. “Simply that I have been amiss in paying Shauna court. Since the weather has turned warm—at least for this time of year—perhaps we could go for a carriage ride tomorrow afternoon?”

Shane's brow uncreased. “Ah. Well, that should nae be a problem.”

“Of course, I will be glad to chaperone,” Abigail said, ignoring the sharp look her husband was giving her. “I would like to take some fresh air.”

In spite of being annoyed with Owen, Shauna stifled a grin. Abigail had just managed to get around Shane's order for her to stay home. Shane looked as though he were about to argue the point, so Shauna cut him off. “Aye. I will need a chaperone.”

Neither Shane nor Owen looked happy, which almost made her laugh aloud, but she sobered when Robert abruptly turned his attention to Colette, saying something in French that made her smile.

“I hope ye enjoy this afternoon,” Shauna said to Abigail the next day as they waited in the parlor for Owen to arrive with the carriage. “I doona want to encourage a courtship.”

“I intend to enjoy every minute,” Abigail replied, placidly smoothing her skirt, “and you do not have to worry about encouraging a relationship. I told Shane last night that I intend to accompany you whenever you go out with Owen.”

“I guess I should be grateful for that,” Shauna said grudgingly.

“It really is the perfect way to escape the house.” Abigail smiled. “I told Shane since Owen had lived in London, he would be aware of society's rules. If we allowed you to leave unchaperoned with him, he might think he was free to take advantage. Shane could not argue with that.”

“Ye did well,” Shauna said. Unfortunately, Shane would probably use the same argument to prevent her from being alone with Robert also. Not that Robert had made any effort to be alone with her, she reminded herself. He'd excused himself last night as soon as dinner was over, not lingering over brandy and cigars. “I doona think Shane was pleased with ye leaving the house though.”

“He was not, but I told him fresh air would do me good.”

“And he agreed?”

Abigail giggled. “Well, he did after I showed him how…er, good I could be.”

“Ah. Was that why ye were late breaking your fast this morning?”

“Hmmm. Perhaps.”

“'Tis obvious the two of ye love each other. I am happy for ye.”

Abigail gave her an inquiring look. “Are you sure you and Owen would not suit? He seemed sincere last night.”

“Owen wants a wife who willnae argue with him.” Shauna leaned down and lifted a corner of her skirt to expose a
sgian dubh
strapped to her calf. “Nae one who carries a blade either.”

“Goodness. How long have you had that?” Abigail asked, her eyes rounding.

“Since I was old enough to warrant interest from men,” Shauna answered and lowered her skirt. “Ian taught Fiona and me how to use the weapon. Ye should have Shane teach ye.”

“I…I am not sure I want to.”

“Well, think on it,” Shauna replied. “Owen would probably tell me nae to wear it since he only wants a wife who will keep his house in order and give him bairns.”

Abigail put a hand on her abdomen. “I think all men want that.”

“Aye. I doona object to it, but I want…more.”

“More?”

“I want a mon who will discuss things with me, who will let me help him with business matters and nae tell me doona fash about such things. I want a mon who will let me use my brain and be proud of me for it—nae ashamed that I am a…what did they call you in London?”

“A bluestocking.”

“'Tis an odd thing to be called, but aye, I would rather be called that than thought of as a hare-brained lass.”

Abigail smiled. “Actually, the term came about when men and women began meeting in private homes during the mid-1700s to discuss music and art and literature. They decided to dress comfortably and wear blue woolen country stockings instead of formal hosiery—”

“Ye see?” Shauna interrupted. “How many people would ken that kind of information? Or even find it interesting? But ye do, and Shane would too.” Shauna sighed. “I just want a mon who likes me as I am and nae what he wants me to be.”

Abigail studied her. “And I suspect you want a man who makes you tingle all over when he touches you as well.”

Shauna's face heated. “Well, if bedding is a part of marriage—”

“It definitely is,” Abigail said and then creased her brow. “Owen does not make you tingle, does he?”