A Laird to Hold Angeline Fortin (most important books of all time .TXT) 📖

Laird seemed confused by Tyrone’s phrasing, but Scarlett wasn’t about to explain it at the moment.

“It’s nice to see you, Tyrone.”

His brows rose. “Is it? Not at all the impression I got when you gave us the proverbial boot a month ago.”

Scarlett caught herself before the surprise showed on her face. That’s right, she’d given Tyrone notice. And her mother as well. When she’d first returned from the sixteenth century and faced their never-ending pressure to perform like a marionette for them while they pulled her strings, she’d refused to be their moneymaker any longer. She’d forgotten about their behavior over the years.

“So, what brings you here now then?” Almost inaudibly, she added, “And what is she doing here?”

Beyond the five years she’d been gone, Scarlett hadn’t come face-to-face with her mother in at least another year above that. Olivia preferred to do her pestering by phone or through Tyrone.

“She arrived a few days ago.”

So a month of not knowing where her daughter disappeared to was okay, but that extra week had been too much for her? What a caring mother.

Olivia finally found her voice before Scarlett could say anything more. “What on earth is going on here, Scarlett? Do you have any idea what the papers are saying?”

“Why hello to you too, Mother.”

“Darling, this erratic behavior of yours is totally unacceptable. Disappearing without a word to anyone? Canceling all your appearances to linger about that dreadful castle and mope around all the while? We’ve been looking for you everywhere for days and how do I find out you’re here? Do I get a phone call? A text? No! I hear it on the news like I’m one of the rabble. And a baby?” She glanced at the infant on Scarlett’s chest but made no move to come closer. Her visual pass over of Laird lasted considerably longer. She’d have to have been dead not to notice such a gorgeous man in the room, and Olivia never missed a chance to assess a man’s potential.

A smile under the circumstances would have been too much for her, but she did preen involuntarily, the move bred down deep, before pacing the room. Laird glanced at Scarlett, compassion and understanding for everything she’d ever said about her mother there in his eyes.

“Really! I have no idea how you managed to hide that” —she jabbed her finger at the baby—“from me but let me tell you, you have some explaining to do, young lady. And to come to a public hospital? Where we couldn’t even begin to hide it? You should have said something. Let us prepare a response or even take you to Switzerland to sweep it under the rug completely. Tyrone is having a hell of a time fielding the calls, I can tell you.”

“Yes, hell of a hullabaloo you’ve got going here, Scar.” Tyrone nodded but his upset wasn’t remotely as powerful as Olivia’s. Nor was Scarlett’s. This was all ancient history to her. A chapter she wasn’t interested in revisiting.

Laird looked at her again and gestured minutely. The silent conveyance of a question offering everything from quiet intervention to knocking her mother out and dragging her from the room. Affection lifted the corner of her lips. She intertwined their fingers, drawing on his love and confidence, but didn’t have him come to her rescue this time.

She wouldn’t wish her mother’s wrath on anyone.

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Scarlett deflected the dual condemnation of the others in the room. “An emergency, by definition…”

“I don’t care what it was.” Her strides a quick, irate march, matched the staccato of her heels on the linoleum floors. Scarlett let her go, knowing from experience it was best to let her mother lose steam before launching a defense. “Do you have any idea what you’ve started here? We have commitments coming up, contracts. Your behavior over the past month has everyone questioning whether or not to keep you on and now this? A baby?” She emphasized the word again with the same disbelief and distaste.

“Your granddaughter.” Scarlett took a wee bit of pleasure in her mother’s wince. Olivia could hardly bear being the mother of a fully-grown woman. Being labeled as a grandmother would send her scurrying to her plastic surgeon for a complete redo. “Wouldn’t you at least like to look at her?”

“No, I would not.”

“Would you care to meet my husband then?” Scarlett asked, unable to tamp down the wicked glee she took in shocking her mother again.

“Husband?” Olivia leveled a horrified stare upon first Scarlett then Laird, but made no further comment.

Tyrone, however, held out his hand. “Tyrone Halliday. I’m Scar’s agent.”

“I ken who ye are,” Laird answered curtly, but took his hand and shook it. “James Hepburn.”

“So how did you two meet?”

Olivia threw up her arms. “Who cares how they met? What I want to do is figure out how we’re going to explain this.”

“We’re not,” Scarlett responded firmly.

“Not? We must. Do you have any idea what sort of fiction the press are coming up with out there? We need a story to set them straight. Straightaway, before it’s too late.”

“I have no intention of explaining anything to anyone,” Scarlett stated more decisively. Her daughter began to fuss against her, no doubt sensing her mother’s growing agitation. Reaching for her button, she rang for the nurse, who appeared so instantaneously she must have been lingering outside the door. “Would you take her for a few moments, please? I need to talk to my mother and don’t want to upset her.”

The nurse nodded and gently removed the baby, wrapping her tightly in a blanket before whisking her away. Scarlett adjusted her hospital gown until she was covered again and pushed herself up. If she was going to have this