Chapter 11 #2
"Of course. Thank you ever so much for you time, both of you.
I'll bid you goodnight. Oh, if you did happen to see the lady in question.
.." he paused, glancing over at Dominic with a smile, "I shall assume you heard my description, by the way.
As I was saying, would you be so kind as to contact me? I can leave my directions here."
Brodie glanced at Dominic, wide-eyed. Dominic did not smile.
"Nay," he said briskly. "If the lady dinnae leave a forwarding address for ye, she must have had a reason. Good night, then."
A sour expression flashed across the gentleman's face, quickly replaced by smooth politeness. He melted back into the crowd and left immediately, his black-suited thugs stumping after them.
Brodie let out a sigh of relief, glancing uncertainly at Dominic. He was looking after the man with a grim expression on his face, lips pursed.
"I'm glad that ye were here," Brodie said. "Who dae ye think he was? Why dae ye think he was after Paisley?"
Dominic gave a light shrug. "Yer guess is as good as mine. But as I said to him, if she wanted him to know where she was, she'd have told him. We daenae pry into people's pasts around here, Brodie." He paused, fixing him with a steely glare. "Ye werenae going to tell him where she was, were ye?"
Brodie hung his head and said nothing.
Dominic sighed. "I see. Well, daenae dae it again, aye?"
"I thought maybe he was her father. Ye know, he certainly was old enough, and English...And she does look like a lady, so..."
"Could be, could be. But she's here and nae with him, and that tells ye a great deal. That man gives me the shivers. Now, let's get cracking on these ales, shall we?"
Dominic tried – and failed – not to think about Paisley that evening.
He kept thinking about the kiss, the feeling of her warm, soft body against his.
He'd barely been awake when he pulled her down next to him, which made it somewhat excusable.
He told himself again and again that it was just reflexes, she was going to touch his face, for whatever reason.
Really, though, there was no excuse for the kiss.
He was relieved that Brodie had let her go home. He wasn't sure if he could have faced her again after that. She must have been appalled.
And yet, ye still desire her, Dominic thought grimly. Fool that ye are.
And now there was that strange gentleman, looking for Paisley. Something wasn't right there, but Dominic had no intention of prying.
Thomas popped up in front of him, smelling of beer and grinning like a fool.
"There ye are, Dom."
"Evenin'. Ye want another beer?"
"Nay, thank ye. Emma is likely to be workin' tonight, so I'll have charge of the wee lad. Can't be sleepin' when he needs changin', eh?"
Thomas chuckled, and Dominic smiled, feeling some of his ill-humor fade away.
"Fatherhood suits you," he remarked.
Thomas beamed. "It does, doesnae it? I never thought so. I love me wee bairn, though. I'm a happy man, and a lucky one. Now, Dom, what's this I hear about ye throwin' a Ceilidh?"
Dominic shrugged. "I'm nae. Ma is, and it's in me name. She says I need to be a better clan laird to me people. I reckon she's right."
Thomas considered this, chewing on his lower lip.
"Well, attending a Ceilidh like this is a start," he said eventually.
"It's nae about the party, or the dancin', or the food.
It's about being seen by the people who matter.
These events are nerve-wracking, I can tell ye that.
Everyone is lookin' at ye. Everyone is judgin' ye.
But as a clan laird, it's yer business to go and dae that sort of thing. "
"I suppose so." Dominic sighing, raking his hands through his hair. He hadn't slept well, and after Paisley's interruption, he hadn't slept at all. "But that lass is still botherin' me, ye know."
"The new hirelin'?"
"Aye. Paisley. I had me misgivin's when I heard that accent of hers."
"Why, because she's English?"
"Nay, because she's English English. The posh kind, aye? A fine gentleman just came swaggerin' in here with shined-up Hessians and an expensive coat, asking for her. Now, if he was somebody she cared about, she'd have left him her address, daenae ye think?"
Thomas pursed his lips. "I couldnae say."
"Hm. Well, I sent him packin'. She's causin' trouble, though."
"I daenae think that's fair," Thomas said. "She's a hard worker, seems to me, and she hasnae done anythin' wrong. We've all got nosy relatives."
Dominic winced. "Fair's fair."
"How about this," Thomas said, leaning forward, elbows resting on the sticky counter. "Ye bring her as yer guest to the Ceilidh. Then we can all meet her, our wives too. Ye know women are usually much better judges of character than us."
Dominic blinked, reeling at this idea. He hadn't considered inviting Paisley with him to the Ceilidh, because he hadn't imagined inviting anyone.
He never had in the past, even when he was sharing his bed and hearth with some woman or another.
He didn't even think that Catriona expected him to, even though she said so.
"Ye want me to bring an English lass to a Scottish laird's Ceilidh?" he managed.
Thomas chuckled. "What are they goin' to do? Throw ye out? It's yer party, Dom."
"Well... aye, but ye daenae need to meet her. Ye've already met her."
Thomas shrugged lightly. "Colby and Veronica havenae. Besides, can ye really meet someone in the middle of The Sinner? It's chaos. Ye can hardly hear a thing."
Dominic mimicked Thomas' pose, resting his elbows on the counter, chin on his hands, thinking.
Could he really invite Paisley along? Thomas was right. He was the laird. He could do what he wanted.
Daenae think that I didn't miss that subtle nudge to me ego, he thought wryly.
It was a good idea, though. It would get Catriona off his back about marriage – although of course he wasn't going to marry Paisley. He was fairly sure that even the idea of it would fill her with horror.
The image of Paisley's wide blue-green eyes flashed into Dominic's mind, her expression bewildered, leaning against the wall and looking up at him in utter confusion. What had he been thinking?
Clearing his throat, Dominic gave his head a little shake to get rid of the image.
"I doubt she would come." he said shortly.
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Wouldnae come to a party, with a laird, with food, music, dancin', and all the drink she fancies? I think she could be persuaded."
"Paisley isnae like that. That sort of thing wouldnae bother her."
Thomas suppressed a smile. "Ye dae know the lass well, daenae ye?"
"Pack it in, Thomas. Look, if I were to ask her, I'd have to tell people we were betrothed.
It's the simplest explanation, and one that would get Ma off me back for a while.
I'd want ye to promise that ye wouldnae cause a scene or say anything to the contrary.
It's important. Can ye promise me that?"
Thomas straightened up, his eyes wide and solemn, and lifted a hand, palm out.
"Cross me heart and may the Lord strike me blind, Dom. I'd take it seriously, I swear."
Dominic sighed again, raking fingers through his already disheveled hair. The night was coming to an end, thank goodness, with some of the patrons already getting ready to leave. Soon they'd want to settle their tabs or order their last drinks.
Brodie had disappeared somewhere – probably shaken from his altercation with that mysterious, unsettling gentleman – and that would leave Dominic to handle the closing rush.
Lovely.
And yet he couldn't concentrate. He kept seeing Paisley when he closed his eyes, kept feeling the tickle of her breath against his cheek, the warm weight of her head against his shoulder.
Stop it, stop it, he told himself angrily. Stop this. Ye cannot have her, so there's nay point thinking on it. Ye are a man of logic and business, not a lovestruck boy.
"I'll ask her," Dominic heard himself say, and saw Thomas perk up eagerly.
"Ye will?"
"Aye, I will. I make nay promises, but if she's willin' to come with me and play along with me rules, there's nay reason why this cannae work for everyone."
Thomas nodded eagerly. "Buy her a dress."
"What?"
"Ye heard me. Buy her a dress. Or at least offer. Trust me, man, I'm married. And let her talk to Veronica and Emma a wee bit. Lassies always get along well together. They'll figure her out in nay time. They'll get her to talk, I can guarantee it."
"Ye make it sound like they're goin' to torture her." Dominic muttered.
Thomas chuckled evilly. "I never said that they wouldnae."
"Oh, get lost, man. And if ye see a well-dressed, snooty Englishman on your way home, give him a wide berth, ye hear me?"