Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector #2)(61)
“Are ye unwell this evenin’, lass?” From across the table and down several seats, Grant’s mother stretched up like a prairie dog looking out across the plains and directed her frown at Joanna’s untouched plate. Sarinda pointed her fork full of meat at her son. “What did ye do now?” She shook the utensil at him as though about to spear him with it. “Out with it, boy. What have ye done to upset this fine sweet lass who obviously possesses the patience of a saint t’put up with yer worrisome ways?”
“?’Tis a cursed man who has a mother so ready to condemn him.”
“I know men,” Sarinda replied. “Now, what did ye do?”
Grant lifted both hands as though fending off an attack. “I’ve no’ done anything that I ken. I just got back from Riverview and came straight here.” He reached over and gently touched Joanna’s arm. “What ails ye, dear one? Are ye unwell again?” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper that still traveled well down the table, judging from the looks on several faces. “Are ye with child? Lucia said ye might be. Dare I hope ’tis true?”
Lucia exploded into a fit of coughing, her silverware rattling to the table as she dropped her knife and fork to clasp both hands to her chest.
Joanna gave her friend a dirty look and silently mouthed, Really?
Lucia responded with a wide-eyed what the hell was I supposed to tell him look in return.
“Lass?” Grant prodded in a louder voice that sounded altogether too hopeful.
Without looking at Grant, Joanna rested one hand on his forearm and smiled at Sarinda. “I’m fine—just not hungry tonight.” She turned and faced Grant. “And I’m definitely not pregnant.”
Visibly disappointed, Grant straightened and returned his attention to the succulent slab of prime rib on his plate. “Ah well…I suppose there’s plenty of time for children.” He looked up and gave a knowing wink to his brother Alec, seated farther down the table. “All the more time for the tryin’, eh brother?”
Alec grinned as he reached over and lovingly settled his hand atop his wife, Sadie’s, slightly rounding stomach and pecked a quick kiss to her cheek. “Aye, brother. There’s definitely something t’be said for all the tryin’.”
Sarinda rapped the handle of her knife hard against the table. “I’ll have no such talk at this table. Shame on the both of ye. Dinna think that just because ye’ve got women of yer own that yer free to lose yer manners. If they willna box yer ears, I’ll be more than happy t’handle the job.”
Sitting to Sarinda’s immediate left, younger brother Ramsay quietly chuckled and promptly received a backhanded smack hard across the chest.
“And dinna ye start. I canna believe my sons are behavin’ in such a way—not when we have guests.” Sarinda underscored her warning with a narrow-eyed glare at each of her sons. She didn’t include her husband Emrys in her warning look. The elderly chieftain was too absorbed in his meal to even realize where he was. Her features softened as she looked back at Joanna. “After dinner, come to the upstairs kitchen. I’ve an herbal-laced brandy, a fine digestif that’s guaranteed to settle yer stomach.”
“Thank you. I will.” Joanna made a show of sliding the food around on her plate to make it look as though she’d decided to eat. Time to get out of the spotlight. “By the way, Ramsay, where’s your lady this evening? Grant said I was finally going to get to meet her.”
“Ramsay’s beloved is much too busy to dine with his lowly family.” Grant made a noise that sounded something like a cross between a spitting snort and a growl. “We’re no’ important or exciting enough for such an upper-class lass with so many parties in the city to attend.” He repeated the sound of disgust as he returned to cutting his meat. “I’d bet my best dagger the woman is a money-grubbin’ Brit at heart—intent t’ruin us.”
“Enough, brother, or we’ll be takin’ this outside.” Ramsay slowly put down his knife and fork and planted both hands on the table in preparation of launching himself up from the bench.
Oh shit. Wrong tactic to get out of the spotlight. Joanna quickly stood and maneuvered her way off the bench running the length of the table. “Suddenly, I don’t feel that well at all. I must have a bug or something.” She fanned herself with one hand, then turned and latched hold of Lucia’s sleeve. She needed to talk to someone about the meeting with Lilian Tasker before she exploded or caused a serious split in the MacDara clan by saying the wrong thing. “Come with me, Lucia. You’re pretty good at mixing up herbal remedies and I don’t want to take Sarinda away from all her guests.”
Lucia’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit, signifying that she understood completely. “Come on, Tyler. You can have dessert early while I doctor up Auntie Jo.”
Grant stood, genuine concern shadowing his features. “I’ll go as well. I dinna like that ye’ve been unwell ever since…” He stalled for a moment. “Ever since our exploring of the caves.”
Oh hell no. Think fast. “No. No, stay here with our guests.” She looked around the room at everyone, giving them all an apologetic nod. “I’m so sorry for having to excuse myself early. Thank you all so very much for coming, and please do carry on.”