Chapter 17 #3
“Let’s start with you, Sam,” she said, tapping her notebook, “and get this family tree put together. I’ll worry about other things later. You are you, then we have Jackson, who is your cousin, who is married to …”
“Olivia,” Jackson supplied, “who is—”
“Far too good for him,” Sam said pleasantly.
Jackson shot him a look of promise, then turned back to her. “My beloved bride, Olivia, is a cousin to Samantha who is married to Derrick.”
“And Samantha, who I’m endlessly grateful agreed to marry me, is a cousin to Jennifer McKinnon,” Derrick said. He looked at Sam blandly. “Jennifer is, if memory serves, your mother.”
Sam looked a little green, but perhaps there was a connection there that should have been left alone. Harriet set that aside for a more gentle investigation at later time and turned her attentions to Oliver.
“And you?” she asked. “Thank you again for the escort, but let’s get down to brass tacks. Is it just antiques you’re involved with?”
He seemed to find that amusing, though she couldn’t have said why.
“I love vintage things,” he admitted. “And if you want the entire genealogy chart—”
“She doesn’t,” Sam put in.
“I do,” Harriet said, ignoring him. “Go ahead.”
“I’m fairly recently wed to my gorgeous wife, Mairead MacLeod,” Oliver said with a smile. “She’s related to James MacLeod whose wife Elizabeth is the elder sister of Zachary Smith who is married to Maryanne de Piaget.”
Harriet felt her mouth fall open, then she looked at Sam. “You really do have a lot of family.”
“Ten children,” he said, nodding wisely.
“And you’re number seven?”
“Or eight,” Jackson said with a snort. “My uncle mixed them up at birth and now no one knows for certain.”
“He did not,” Sam said shortly. “No one wanted Theo to feel any more inferior than he already does simply by my breathing in and out every day so we allow him to occasionally believe he’s the elder to shore up his fragile ego.”
Jackson looked at her. “’Tisn’t too late to run, Harriet.”
She felt her cheeks grow a bit warm. “Well, it isn’t as if we’re … um … you know.”
The three across the table from her exchanged a look between themselves, then they turned as one and looked at Sam. It reminded her so sharply of the harpies at the conference that she had to smile. She looked at Sam who was definitely not.
“Stay out of my way,” he warned them. “She’s agreed to dinner after the conference and I don’t want you three bollocking that up before I can get her into a nice restaurant where she might agree to a second date.”
Oliver and Derrick nodded, apparently in approval.
Jackson sent her a look she was surprised to find she had no trouble interpreting—namely that she was crazy to even think about dating the gorgeous hunk sitting next to her—which was perhaps one of the lovelier things she’d experienced so far in England.
Well, besides the man next to her reaching for her hand, then shooting her an inquiring look before he captured it in both his own.
After all, she rather liked the way he held her hand, so it wasn’t as if she was going to tell him no.
She lifted her eyebrows briefly at Jackson, had a quick smile in return, then watched the boys cheer the arrival of supper.
They set to with a single-mindedness that didn’t surprise her at all.
And while she thoroughly enjoyed her meal, the best part of it was watching those four men interacting with each other.
She’d spent a fair amount of time acting as her father’s unofficial assistant at the equally un-official events he ran for the male scholars who attended his classes and what she’d discovered, hiding in the wings as she had been, was that she liked men.
She liked that they were generally blunt, good-hearted, and occasionally outrageously funny.
The four at the table were certainly no exception to that.
She leaned back against the bench and toyed with her water glass, smiling a little as she listened to Sam and his relatives chatting about things that intrigued them or, more often than not, about ways they thought Sam needed to improve himself so he might actually attract the attention of a beautiful woman.
“Look,” Jackson said, shaking his head slowly, “we’ve bored her beyond belief with the subject matter.” He looked at Derrick. “Hopeless.”
“There’s Theo—”
“Nay,” Sam said, pointing his fork at Derrick, “there is not. She wouldn’t like him at all.”
“Well, then,” Jackson said with a heavy sigh, “we’ll just have to see what we can do with you.”
“I have thoughts,” Oliver offered pleasantly. “Derrick?”
“We might have to call Ewan in to consult.” He shrugged. “I’m all out of suggestions on how that poor lad there might woo such a spectacular woman.”
Harriet found Sam looking at her. “Have you had enough, my lady?”
She smiled. “I’m fine, but I think you’ve had too much.”
He shot her a quick smile before he turned a formidable glare on their companions. “I appreciate supper. Don’t expect me to reciprocate. We’ll be off now, before you ruin our digestion further. Cheers.”
Harriet found herself gently pulled from the bench, managed to wave briefly at those ridiculously handsome and abundantly charming males who were only waving with sincerely affectionate smiles, then followed Sam through the pub and out the front door.
If he didn’t release her hand until they’d trotted across the street, into the inn, and up the stairs all the way to Francine’s room, well, she wasn’t going to say anything to spoil his digestion, either.
She looked at him as he stood facing her in front of that doorway. “Thank you for dinner. That was wonderful.”
He leaned his shoulder against the wall and smiled. “They’re total punters, those three, but decent in a pinch—and for paying for supper when the mood strikes them.” He paused and his smile faded. “There are several very good, proper restaurants in the area, in case you were worried.”
She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’m sure my folks are just out for the evening. We’ll catch up tomorrow, don’t you think?”
“I do.” He smiled, then his smile faded. “I’m going to take a little drive to Stratford now.”
“I’ll come—”
“Nay, you need to rest.”
“But I already have on tennis shoes.”
“Trainers,” he said absently.
“Along with my pants under my jeans.”
“Hmmm,” he said, then he looked at her in surprise. “What?”
“Just seeing if you’re awake.”
He smiled. “I am. And just so you know, Jackson’s going to drive with me. We can only hope his conversation doesn’t put me to sleep on the way.”
“When did you decide that?” she asked in surprise.
“He sent me a text during supper. Apparently he cannot keep himself from texting. Endlessly, at all hours, whilst saying nothing at all interesting.”
“You don’t want me to come along and keep you safe from him?” she asked. “I could bring one of my father’s plastic swords to use on him if he gets out of hand.”
“Tempting,” he conceded, “but he’s promised to be on his best behavior tonight. And if he forgets, I’ll tell him that you have plans to travel with me to the faire again tomorrow where you can admire my lovely gray eyes, so both my eyes will need to be open so as not to cause you any undue effort.”
“Will that stop him from giving you another shiner?”
He nodded solemnly.
She sighed. “All right.”
“Please stay here,” he said seriously. “So I won’t worry about you.”
“You’re sounding like a medieval sort of guy.”
“Or perhaps I’m just being careful with you.” He put his hands lightly on her shoulders, then kissed her on the forehead. “Please.”
She sighed. “All right, but I didn’t ask Francine if she minded if I spent another night in her room.”
“I asked her before supper,” Sam said, “just in case. She said she would be pleased to have you, which you know is her stopping just short of turning backflips.” He stepped back and waited for her to open the hotel room door. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
She nodded, then slipped inside the room and closed the door behind her.
“Lock it, my lady,” came the voice quietly from the other side.
Well, if he was going to put it that way, what choice did she have? Besides, if he and Jackson were off to do a little skulking around in dusty old prop rooms in Stratford-upon-Avon, she might rather leave them to it and speculate in comfort.
What she knew for certain was that she’d encountered quite a lovely group of people in a place that seemed to be providing her with things she hadn’t expected.
She could only hope her parents were being as fortunate in their encounters as she had been.