They approached a small table set with cold meats and bread. Everyone would gather for a picnic lunch later, but the men hailed Diantha for considering their masculine appetites. Archie and the loaders relaxed and ate near a cart set aside for their use. At the other end of the moor, the beaters ate a similar snack.
Afterward, servants packed up the remains of the meal. Kieran escorted her to a line of unloaded guns with their breeches open. They had been cleaned during the break. “Would you like to shoot one?”
“Mama will be horrified when she finds out.” She hesitated. “Would it be safe?”
“An excellent concern. We’ll be sure to point you away from the others.” He picked up a shotgun with an inlay of polished steel on the butt. “My father gave me this one.”
Barclay strolled up, holding his own weapon. “Kieran said he might try to coax you to fire a round. Bravely done, Cousin.” He eschewed a kilt, but looked very fine in trousers and a tailored shooting jacket. He fell in with them.
After showing her how to carry it safely, with the barrel pointed to the ground, they guided her to a spot several feet away from the others. Nervous at the stares in her direction, she drew comfort from Kieran’s solid warmth as he walked beside her.
While she watched, the two men showed her how the breech mechanism worked, and how to load and unload cartridges. Finally Kieran handed her his gun. Diantha did not expect it to weigh so much, but managed to hold it properly.
Barclay held out his own. “That’s rather heavy for a lady, Cuz. Would you like her to use mine?”
“Good of you, Barclay, but she’ll need help bracing any shotgun correctly. I’d prefer to handle the one I’m familiar with.”
Kieran pushed a cartridge with a handpainted B into the chamber. “This is a blank, so you needn’t fear hurting anyone. Now, keep your finger away from the trigger and lift the gun to your shoulder.”
Diantha did so as Kieran moved behind her. His arms came around her to help steady the piece. “Ow! It’s digging into my shoulder.”
She felt his chest shake with laughter. “It’s supposed to. If a gun recoils against your shoulder the pain is far worse. Take a breath, put your finger on the trigger, and squeeze.”
An explosion thundered in her right ear so loudly she thought she saw flames and smelled something dreadful. The next instant someone ripped the gun out of her hands and threw Diantha flat on her back. Before she could protest, folds of heavy cloth smothered her face and upper body.
Through the ringing in her ears she heard indistinguishable shouts.
“Dina! Oh God!” She clawed her way out of the encompassing wool to find Kieran kneeling beside her.
“Stop that!” She tried to bat his hands away as he pressed his plaid against her.
“Lie still, love!” White-faced, he spoke gently but forced her back to the rough grass. “I have to smother the sparks.”
Kieran ran his hands over her neck and down her arm before hauling her onto his lap. Scorch marks darkened his plaid and she realized that the gun must have misfired. Looking down, she traced burnt material to the shoulder of her gown. Exploring further, her fingers encountered a singed clump that had once been a curl.
“My hair!”
Francesca placed an open flask to Diantha’s lips and urged her to drink. She smiled in between gasps of breath. “I’m sure that clever maid of yours will beable to do something modish with it.” Shivering, the older woman handed the flask to Kieran. “I saw it from a distance. Thank God you have nothing worse than a ruined coiffure.”
Normally Diantha enjoyed it when Kieran held her close, but not when he shouted in her ear.
“Green!”She cringed as he roared the ghillie’s name in a voice that echoed across the moor.
Archie pounded up, his face gray. “Dear Jesus, is Lady Rossburn safe?”
“No thanks to your carelessness she is.” He bit the words out. “It is impossible that so much flame could be produced by one blank cartridge.”
“No, my laird.” The ghillie wrung his cap in his hands. “I swear, I looked over your piece myself in and oot and there was naught in it.”
“Well, something bloody was, and it near killed my wife!”
“Kieran! That is enough.”
He finally looked down at her.
“You checked the barrel yourself. So did Barclay. I distinctly remember watching you.” She cupped his cheek, her heart melting at the anxiety in his aqua eyes. “It was a frightening accident, but I don’t see how anyone could have foreseen it. And we are both whole, if somewhat crispy.”
Kieran’s arms tightened about her for a moment. “Thank God.” He looked around and raised his voice. “Fetch a carriage. I’m taking Lady Rossburn home.”
