“Where is she? You said the dogs have found her,” Lady Maclean demanded anxiously. “Is she all right?”
Her voice sounded as if she was hurrying as fast as she could toward the bothy’s door. The heads of two of Monty’s stable lads appeared in the windows along with the curious faces of others whom Harry recognized from the village. They craned their necks, anxious to see all—and immediately, given the scattered clothing and Harry’s state of undress, jumped to conclusions.
Poor Portia. This was not going to be good.
The dogs were overjoyed with so much attention and very proud of themselves. They kept leaping at the windows or nudging Monty.
“Stay here,” Harry warned Portia, hoping she would listen. After all, she rarely did as he suggested.
Outside, Lady Maclean was asking more questions, this time directly of Monty. “Is she in there? Why can’t I see her? Portia? Are you there?”
His friend stood stoic in the face of his lady’s concerns, and Harry knew he was asking a great deal of his former general.
He picked up his shirt and pulled it over hishead before saying to the grinning faces in the windows, “Begone, lads.” They responded to the command in his voice and stepped away, but he knew by their smirks they would have a field day with this later. He picked up his pistol and her spectacles from the window ledge and tapped Monty on the shoulder to step away.
Harry went outside. The day was a good one for late December. The sun shone and the air was crisp.
Lady Maclean appeared overwrought. Her eyes were red as if she had been crying. Portia’s sister, Minnie, was also among the search party, along with Mr. Oliver Tolliver and about everyone else from Glenfinnan. Lady Maclean’s questions came to a halt when she saw Harry.
She took in his bare feet and disheveled appearance. Her mouth opened. No words came out. Harry ran a self-conscious hand through his hair.
Grim-faced, Monty did not meet Harry’s eye.
Knowing there was only one way to salvage Portia’s reputation, Harry said, “Good morning, Lady Maclean. May I ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage?”
Her ladyship reacted as if she had not heard him. “Colonel Chattan?” she answered, aquestion in her greeting as if she couldn’t believe he was here.
But someone inside the bothyhadheard. “No,” Portia cried.
Harry ignored the protest, moving so he blocked the door.
“I would be honored to have your daughter for my wife.” Funny but he’d never thought he would say these words. However, now, asking for Portia’s hand, they seemed like a logical step.
Sounding slightly dazed, Lady Maclean said, “Is she all right?”
“She enjoys excellent health,” Harry responded.
The stable lads snickered. Harry would “discuss” the matter with them later. He’d allow no one to mock the woman who would become his wife—and then he received a great thump in the back as Portia literally ran into him.
Harry was not expecting an attack from the rear. He lost his balance and there was enough space for Portia to squeeze her way between.
She was a mess. Her dress was sloppily laced and her curls sprang in every direction around her head, wild and carefree. She had one shoe on her stockingless feet and the other foot was bare.
When she realized how large the gathering was, her eyes widened. She gathered her cloak around her and lifted her chin.
“Hello, Mother.”
A frown etched itself on Her Ladyship’s features. For a moment she appeared ready to fly off in hysteria, and then she glanced at Monty and seemed to gain courage. “Put your spectacles on, Portia,” she said.
Whatever Portia had been expecting her mother to say, it was not that. She appeared confused and then turned to Harry, who held out his hand holding her eyeglasses. Her eyes not meeting his, she put them on, curving the wire temples around her ears.
“I’m ready to go home, Mother.”
“Yes, I imagine you are. However, Colonel Chattan has asked me for your hand and I am going to give my blessing.”
Everyone nodded. It was what was expected.
Portia shook their complacency when she squared her shoulders and announced, “Well, I will not marry him. Your blessing or no.”
