Strings of the Heart (Runaway Train #3)(40)

I hoped he was right. The door opened, and Ellie appeared in a demure, beaded black dress. Her hair had been swept back with a glittering headband.

“Don’t you look beautiful?” Rhys exclaimed, closing the gap between them. He hugged her gently, as if careful not to crowd her. She patted his back with one of her hands. “I’m so lucky to have two beautiful ladies escorting me to the party.” Glancing over his shoulder at me, Rhys’s wide smile lit up his entire face. It was good seeing him so happy, and I was so grateful that he was letting me share the moment with him and his sister.

As we started to the door, Trudie stopped Rhys. “If you need me, I’ll be here.” I could tell that although she was thrilled that Ellie was going to the party, Trudie was also worried.

Rhys nodded. “It’ll be fine. I’ll let her see everyone and listen to the music. I’ll make sure to bring her back in an hour so she doesn’t get overstimulated by the crowd.”

“That sounds good.” Trudie patted Ellie’s arm. “Have fun, honey.”

As we started up the brick pathway, Ellie walked slightly ahead of us, craning her neck to take in the sound of the string quartet coming from the tent off to the side of the house. “She’s going to enjoy the hell out of the music,” Rhys said, as we walked up the stairs and into the kitchen.

Ellie paid little attention to the people overfilling the main hallway and other rooms. She had a singular focus it seemed, to find the source of the music she was humming. Rhys, on the other hand, was the consummate Southern gentleman. He spoke to everyone he saw—shook hands with the men and kissed a few women’s cheeks. Each and every time, he made sure to introduce me. All the while as he socialized, he kept a cautious eye on Ellie.

When she had gotten to the ballroom door that led out onto the veranda, she had stopped. It seemed she had found her perfect spot to listen to the music and watch the dancing partygoers. Those who didn’t know her cast frustrated looks when she wouldn’t move aside for them.

“Excuse me, Eddie,” Rhys said to a bald man in a red and black checked kilt. He then crossed the room to go to Ellie’s side. He gently took her by the arm. “Why don’t we sit at a table, so you can see and hear better?”

While she didn’t appear to acknowledge him, Ellie did let Rhys lead her over to a table in the back of the veranda. I eased down beside Rhys. Glad to be off my feet for a moment, I, too, enjoyed listening to the quartet. My gaze flickered around the room, taking in the guests. Several were in kilts like Rhys, but most of the men wore tuxes. When a waiter stopped at the table, I gladly took a flute of bubbly. Thankfully another appeared with a tray of hors d’ oeuvres. After I greedily devoured the napkin of goodies, I craned my neck to see where another waiter was.

Rhys chuckled beside me. “What?” I asked.

“There is real food in the dining room if you’re hungry.”

Embarrassment warmed my cheeks. “I guess scarfing that down didn’t look too ladylike, huh?”

With a roll of his eyes, Rhys said, “Like I give two shits about anything ladylike.” He leaned forward. “What I do care about is if you’re hungry.”

“I am.” And for more than just food. I’d like to have you as the appetizer, main course, and dessert. Those were the thoughts derailing my mind in the middle of the party.

He smiled. “Then let me get you a plate.” After waving one of the waiters over, Rhys said, “Please bring me three settings of the dinner course.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the waiter hurried off, I cocked my brows at Rhys. “Wow, that was impressive.”

“What do you mean?”

“Having someone at your beck and call like that. No standing in line with the other peasants. Not to mention, you get table side service.”

Rhys laughed. “It’s basically the same thing as ordering something at a restaurant. The wait-staff always know to keep my parents’ guests happy and give them what they ask for.”

“So he wasn’t falling over himself to give you what you wanted because you were lord of the manor?” I teasingly questioned.

“Maybe.” Then he shook his head at me. “I’m not lord of the manor. I told you my branch of the family didn’t have a title.”

I opened my mouth to tease him more, but the waiter arrived with our plates. “That was fast,” I murmured, after he left the table.

“And I’m sure the fast service was because of me being Lord McGowan?” Rhys asked, cocking his brows at me.

“You can’t tell me any different.”

“Whatever,” he replied, with a good-natured chuckle.

While I dug into the deliciously aromatic roast chicken, Rhys coaxed Ellie to eat a little. His efforts went to waste when two bagpipers in full regalia strolled past our table. Ellie dropped her fork and sat up a little straighter, her curiosity piqued.

“You weren’t kidding about celebrating Tartan Day, were you?” I asked.

He grinned. “Do you think I’d be rocking this kilt if we weren’t hardcore about it?”

“Probably not.” Reaching for my purse, I took out my phone. “I should seriously take a pic and send it to Jake.”

Before I knew what was happening, Rhys had snatched the phone out of my hand. “No f**king way!”