Her guests occupied her time over the next days. Advised by Kieran’s mother, she had prepared activities for both sunny and inclement weather. Sunny days brought walks through the garden, andsketching parties for the ladies. Kieran oversaw fishing excursions and practice shooting sessions for the men.
On rainy days and in the evenings, guests occupied themselves with cards, charades, or games like “Twenty Questions.” Others played the piano in the drawing room or sang.
The day before grouse shooting started featured a picnic near the estate’s fishing village. The community welcomed Mr. Quinn particularly, and he responded by becoming as human as Diantha had ever seen him. Under her mother’s horrified eyes, he and Harry examined the existing fleet of boats and bantered with their crews.
Mrs. Quinn pressed a scented handkerchief to her lips. “Everyone else is staring! I shall die of mortification!”
Diantha barely heard her, for she could not take her eyes off Kieran.
He spoke to nearly every man, calling them by name and asking after their families. The wind blew his dark waves of hair around his perfect profile as he spoke to one of the youngest fishermen.
They seemed to be arguing about something and she wondered what the trouble could be.
Iona bustled up, scowling. “Come away, it’s time to leave.”
Diantha’s brows snapped together. “I do beg your pardon, Aunt, but as hostess I believe that is my decision.”
Barclay, following his mother, attempted to placate both of them. “That was a bit abrupt of Mother, but indeed, there’s no need to linger. I daresayKieran can bring your father and Sir Harry along after they’ve finished with their new acquaintances.” He drew the final word out in a sarcastic manner that set her teeth on edge.
She dug in her heels at his condescension until she caught sight of the others aimlessly sitting and standing near the carriages. “Very well, Barclay.” She stretched her lips into a saccharine smile. “You may escort my mother.”
She took Iona’s arm, which she knew the other woman would detest. “Shall we go, Aunt?”
Several of their guests looked askance when Kieran arrived at the picnic site with Papa and Harry, but the three men ignored the stares.
After the meal, Kieran signaled the footmen. Grinning, they produced several long bags from under carriage seats. Their owners pulled out long clubs that ended in thick wood knobs or narrow iron blades. Alarmed, Diantha wondered if the Scots were about to engage in some sort of ritual combat, like fencing.
One of the friendlier Rossburn relatives rubbed his hands together. “Now for the entire point of the day! Did you bring the gutties, laddie?”
With a grin, her husband opened a box filled with small, pale spheres. “Hard to play golf without them.”
They offered to teach the game to those unfamiliar with it. Diantha declined, but her brothers tried their hands at it. To Diantha’s amazement, the Scots, male and female, spent the next hours whacking the balls into a series of holes among the heath that grew just beyond the seashore.
“That is the most absurd thing I have ever seen.” She addressed the remark to Mama as they sipped lemonade some distance away from the course.
“Lawn tennis is more enlivening. But I’m told that royalty patronizes some golf clubs. Perhaps you should take up the game.”
Iona sat nearby, watching Barclay play. “That would be most suitable. The dowager baroness never did take up the game.”
Which only demonstrated her mother-in-law’s good sense. Diantha kept the words to herself to preserve the rare accord between the two women.
Chapter 12
Buoyed by an afternoon of fierce competition on the links, Kieran decided to look in on his mother. Poole beamed at him when she opened the door.
“Her ladyship will be pleased to see you, my lord. Will you be joining her for tea?”
“If your wife can spare you.” The dowager set aside the book she had been reading and held out a hand to him.
He kissed her cheek. “You look very well this afternoon.”
“I took advantage of the empty house to spend some time on the terrace.”
“I’m sorry, do you feel terribly hounded?” He took the seat next to her daybed.
“Not at all. If any of the more encroaching guests stop by, I simply feign a bad turn.”
He chuckled at the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She patted his hand. “Never mind, my dear. Nearly everyone who has visited me commends Diantha’s skill as a hostess. Once that piece of gossip makes the rounds, she will be much in demandnext Season.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Unless she is occupied with moredomesticmatters.”
