Free Ann Lethbridge by Her Highland Protector Page B

in his eyes, as if whatever was in that note was not to his taste.
    And he wasn’t leaving. But then if it had been nothing but simple greetings, the butler would have delivered the note.
    She broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
    At first she did not quite believe what she was reading. Each word sent a different emotion careening though her. Surprise. Gladness. Worry. And, strangest of all, disappointment. She read again more slowly. Absorbing the full import of the words. Bridegrooms. Three of them, coming here. To woo her.
    ‘Oh, my,’ she said looking at Mr Gilvry, who stood hands behind his back, shoulders square, his face set in grim lines. ‘You know what he says?’
    He nodded. ‘I also received a letter.’
    ‘What is it, my dear?’ Mrs Preston asked. ‘You’ve gone quite pale.’
    ‘It seems we are to have visitors.’ Jenna got up, handed her the letter and went to the window, looking out across the countryside to a gleam of sea in the distance. Seeing, but not seeing.
    This was what she had asked for. Not quite this. In her heart, she had hoped for a Season in Edinburgh. Balls. Dancing. Society. A rather childish dream, in light of Carrick’s impatient admonishment to do her duty and select one of these men as a husband before his return in a week.
    She had pressed him hard and this was his response.
    A brisk determination of her future. At least he was letting her have her choice. Somewhat. A choice he controlled. Because he did not think her capable of making a sensible decision.
    The thought rankled.
    She turned back to the room and caught Niall looking at her with an expression on his face she could not read. He masked it quickly, so she wasn’t sure, but she thought it might be regret.
    He looked so handsome in the morning light, so clearly intent on his duty. If only he was...eligible. Her heart stumbled. How could this be? This funny little stab of pain in her chest. This foolish feeling of longing.
    Because of their kiss.
    Surely she had more sense.
    A muscle jumped in his jaw. And while his gaze left hers to watch Mrs Preston as she read Lord Carrick’s letter, about his mouth there was a hint of distaste.
    Her spine stiffened at his disapproval. She glanced at Mrs Preston, who was still reading. ‘An unusual way of proceeding, don’t you think, ma’am?’
    The older woman looked up, her eyes wide. ‘I have never heard the like. But it is what you wanted.’
    Her voice quavered with doubt. As if she expected Jenna to balk.
    And on one level she wanted to. She wasn’t sure she was ready. Not really. Yet this plan would have her back to Braemuir in weeks instead of the months it might take if she went to Edinburgh.
    These men were all approved by her cousin. Handpicked. And, according to his letter, they were willing.
    ‘I think it will serve my purpose.’ It had to, despite a sudden feeling of panic.
    ‘Then we must prepare,’ Mrs Preston said, looking brighter. More animated than Jenna had ever seen her. ‘Three bachelors arriving here at any moment to vie for your hand? Like a fairy-tale. I vow it is positively romantic.’
    Terrifying, more like. ‘Romance has nothing to do with it,’ Jenna said a little more sharply than she intended, and Niall’s gaze shot to her face as if seeking out her true emotions.
    Emotions had no place in her choice of a husband. They could not, if she was to do her duty.
    Even so, the constraints of her situation chafed. Made her less than charitable. ‘Well, Mr Gilvry, how do you propose we entertain our guests?’ She waved a hand. ‘Have them read books, perhaps?’
    He gave her a puzzled frown.
    ‘It will be hard to amuse them, if I am not to leave the castle walls. Young men don’t take kindly to being shut up all day as well as all evening.’
    He stiffened, instantly picking up her oblique reference to his position as her gaoler. No lack of quickness of mind in Mr Gilvry. Something she admired about him. No. Not admired. Admiration had no