by Susan King
Of course, she realized. No one here knew that they had met the night before. "Sir Aedan," she said, holding out her hand, "I am Mrs. Christina Blackburn."
He took her fingers, his touch light but firm, his smile appealingly mischievous. In daylight, he was still astonishingly handsome, his eyes keen blue, his thick hair a deep brown, nearly black. His suit of black wool was neat but spattered slightly with mud, as were his boots.
"Sir Edgar Neaves sent me," she said, continuing her introduction. "And this is my brother, John Blackburn."
"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, madam. Sir, it's very good to meet you." He gave John a firm handshake.
The laird took her elbow, his touch firm and warm through the cloth of her sleeve. Christina looked into his stunning blue eyes, and her heart pattered at a ridiculous pace.
His powerful maleness was distracting. She remembered the feel of his arms around her, the brush of his lips over hers in the darkness. Blushing, she allowed the laird of Dundrennan to draw her into the room.
* * *
With Christina Blackburn on his arm, Aedan faced a room swirling with chaos. Amy lifted her lavender skirts and stepped back as Miss Thistle scrambled behind a drapery. Lady Balmossie fluttered her fan over her bosom, while Meg bent over, cooing to the elusive monkey.
"Thistle," his aunt moaned, "how could you!"
Aedan calmly introduced his kinswomen one by one to the startled guests. Amy smiled brightly in welcome, then squealed as Thistle scuttled under her skirts and paused to peer out.
"Mrs. Blackburn, please have a seat." Aedan guided her to the sofa beside his aunt, who turned her fan to flap it helpfully in the young woman's face.
John Blackburn stood by, quietly laughing, while his sister blinked and glanced around, clearly bewildered.
"Mrs. Blackburn, can I fetch you a glass of water? Or smelling salts?" Aedan asked wryly.
"Oh no, I'm fine." She smiled up at him.
"If flying teacups do not bother you, then I admire you indeed," he answered. She had not made a fuss about falling down the stairs last night, either, although she no doubt felt bruised and shaken.
"Such a kerfuffle!" Lady Balmossie watched the two young women trying to snatch the monkey. "Are ye harmed, lassie?"
"She's quite unbothered," Aedan said, amused.
"So good to meet all of you," Christina said. "Thank you for inviting us here."
John Blackburn leaned on his cane. "Ladies, I'm utterly charmed. What a delightful welcome." His wide smile was relaxed. He was a lean young man with dark brown curls, calf-like brown eyes, and the added romance of a limp, all of which Aedan suspected would melt his kinswomen's hearts.
A bundle of peach satin skittered along the back of a chair. Aedan reached out but missed catching Miss Thistle.
Christina Blackburn stared. "Is that... a monkey?"
"Indeed it is," her brother said, grinning. "Sir Aedan, where did you come by that beastie? I saw them in the wild when I was overseas, and a fellow I knew in India brought one home with him. This one's a female, I take it?"
"Aye. Miss Thistle came from India years ago. She was my father's pet. Now she belongs to my aunt," Aedan explained. The monkey leaped to his shoulder. Aedan sat on the arm of the sofa near Mrs. Blackburn and dipped down to let her see Thistle.
Reaching out, she tentatively touched the monkey's head. Miss Thistle leaped away, climbing loose-limbed up the draperies to sit on the curtain rod and survey the room.
Christina stared upward. "I've seen them at the Edinburgh Zoo, but never up close before." She sounded astonished.
"My father left Thistle in his will to Lady Balmossie," Aedan said. "He knew I did not have the patience for her."
"But you are kind and gentle with her." She smiled at him with such fresh, sultry beauty that his body stirred. No woman had ever had this sort of effect on him, throwing him off-kilter with a mere smile or glance. He frowned.
"Your rescue of my sister was gallant, sir," John said.
"With Miss Thistle about, one learns to move swiftly. And it was a pleasure to save Mrs. Blackburn." He watched her blush again. That hint of passion beneath her calm exterior fascinated him. He wondered how such a quiet little creature could have modeled for that sensual painting.
Meg held out her hand. "Mrs. Blackburn, please forgive our eccentricities. What an odd welcome for you and your brother."
"Thank you, Lady Strathlin. I rather enjoyed it."
"Miss Thistle is upset by the changes at Dundrennan," Lady Balmossie explained. "And she can be shoogly on rainy days, I admit. She usually behaves well."
"She never does," Amy contradicted, as the others laughed.
"Mrs. Blackburn, I believe we met briefly last year in Edinburgh," Meg said. "At the opening of an exhibition at the National Museum of Antiquities. A display of some rather beautiful ancient Celtic pieces, as I recall."
Christina lifted her brows. "Oh yes! In all the commotion I did not realize... how nice to see you again. We were introduced by a friend of yours... Mrs. Shaw, I think."
"Yes. Actually she is now Mrs. Guy Hamilton. She married my secretary just two months ago." Meg smiled. "That was a wonderful exhibit. I remember that you played a part in the discovery of those remarkable pieces, and in the arrangement of the displays as well."
Christina nodded. "I went with my uncle to the site, and also worked with Sir Edgar Neaves of the museum to identify and catalog the pieces. How kind of you to recall."
Aedan felt grateful to Meg for helping to make Christina Blackburn feel more comfortable after that raucous introduction to his family. Over Christina's head, he smiled privately at his cousin's wife. The sparkle in her aqua blue eyes told him that she understood.
"This is a marvelous house, Sir Aedan," John said. "We noticed some work being done as we came through the hallways."
"We are in the process of refurbishing the place, according to my father's wishes," Aedan answered.
"Yes, we want to capture Sir Hugh's grand vision for Dundrennan," Amy said. "The house was still unfinished at the time of his death." She rested a hand upon Aedan's shoulder, but he stood so that her hand had to fall.
"And we have another reason to finish up the house," Lady Balmossie said. "The queen is planning to visit us soon."
"Oh, how exciting!" Christina said.
"Och, aye." Lady Balmossie nodded. "Aedan, have ye had word yet when Her Majesty will arrive?"
"I had a letter from the queen's secretary in this morning's post," Aedan said. "The queen and her consort will preside over the opening of the Glasgow Waterworks on October the sixteenth, and then ride north over the new road—which had best be finished to allow for it," he added. "They will stay here for one night, and tour the Strathclyde hills the next day."
Lady Balmossie whisked her fan. "Oh, my! Will the house be ready in time? Will the painting and carpeting be done? And we must find an artist soon!"
"Artist?" John Blackburn asked quickly.
"For the dining room," Lady Balmossie explained. "My late brother's plans for the house included paintings on the walls."
"Ah," John said, glancing at his sister.
Just then Amy leaned toward Aedan. "Cousin, do come around with me later to look at some things. I so value your thoughts, even though you are such a grumphy about the changes. We are planning the house together," she told the Blackburns.
That sounded uncomfortably matrimonial, Aedan thought. He frowned. "I'm grateful for the help my cousin and my aunt have given with renovations."
"The house is quite impressive," Christina said. "John and I look forward to seeing more of it."
"Amy will give you the grand tour," Aedan said.
"You would especially enjoy the library," Meg told Christina. "Sir Aedan can answer any questions you may have about the book collection. He knows the library best."
"Are you a writer and a scholar, sir, like your father?" Christina asked.
"I am an engineer by education a
nd by trade," he answered, "though I helped my father organize the library years ago. Feel free to use it while you are here. As a scholar, you will appreciate the collection." He looked at her for a moment, thinking of her interrupted mission last night.
She thought of it too—he saw a flicker of awareness in her eyes. "Thank you, sir, though I don't consider myself a true scholar. I assist my uncle, the Reverend Walter Carriston, who is an accomplished antiquarian. I help with research for the museum, and I occasionally help Sir Edgar. He asked me to examine the discovery on the hill near here."
Aedan nodded. "Reverend Carriston wrote a history of Scotland, I believe?"
"Yes, his magnum opus, A History of Celtic Scotland, was published in four volumes," she answered.
"My father thought highly of his work."
"My sister is a fine antiquarian," John Blackburn added. "She assisted our uncle with his research and writing. Her theories of Arthurian Britain helped shape his conclusions."
Mrs. Blackburn's cheeks were bright pink now, Aedan noticed. He reminded himself why she had come to Dundrennan. She had the power to ruin his career and lose him this house. He could not afford to forget that, despite her appeal.
"My sister is modest about her expertise," John went on. "But I am happy to show it off."
"Please do, Mr. Blackburn," Aedan said, curious.
"She reads and speaks Latin, French, Greek, and Gaelic, and she is familiar with Old Irish. She can make sense of any old text, I think. She taught English in a Ladies' School in the Highlands, and she has published some articles of her scholarly work. And she is kind, sensitive, and humble." He smiled at his sister.
"John, really," Christina said, pinkening.
"She is a paragon," Amy said coolly.
"Yet a green young lass for all that," Lady Balmossie said bluntly. "I thought a lady antiquarian would be a crabbit auld thing, like me." She chuckled.
"Mrs. Blackburn is young, and a married lady," Amy said.
"A widow," Christina Blackburn corrected softly. Aedan frowned, remembering her discomfort with the topic last night. "After my husband's death, I devoted myself to assisting my uncle with his work."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Meg murmured.
"Thank you. Might I say, since my brother was so kind," Christina said, "that John is a brilliant painter."
"I've heard of the Blackburn family of artists," Meg said. "I own a beautiful seascape by the elder Blackburn, who is a very celebrated artist. Would he perhaps be your father?"
Christian nodded. "Yes, perhaps it is one of his. I'm glad to hear that you enjoy his work," she murmured.
"We have three paintings by Blackburn artists here in our own collection," Aedan said.
Christina blinked at him. "Three?" Her cheeks colored.
Damn. He had spoken without thinking. She seemed uncomfortable with the topic. "A rather dramatic image of Queen Mary Stuart at her devotions, done by your father, and another historic scene of Robert the Bruce in the front drawing room signed 'Blackburn.' The third is... in my study." He avoided mention of its subject.
"That one is quite improper," Amy said.
Mrs. Blackburn cast her brother a frantic look.
"The one in the drawing room shows Bruce crowned by Isabella of Buchan," Amy said. "That one is very nice."
"Robert the Bruce and Isabella?" John said. "I painted that one."
"You, sir?" Aedan smiled. "What a marvelous coincidence to have you here. It's an excellent piece."
"Thank you, Sir Aedan. I did not realize it was here."
"John does not keep careful records," Christina said.
"Aedan, you must ask Mr. Blackburn to paint the walls!" Amy smiled.
"With bucket and brush?" John gulped.
Aedan smiled. "There is an unfinished mural in the dining room, started two years ago by a fellow who unfortunately died. Perhaps you would look at it. I wonder if you would be interested in finishing it at some point in time."
"Mr. Blackburn is a fine artist," Lady Balmossie said, nodding. "He could do a better job than what's there."
John smiled. "I would be happy to look at it."
"What wonderful luck!" Amy said. "Would you like to see it now, Mr. Blackburn? I can take you there while Lady Strathlin shows Mrs. Blackburn the library. Aedan, will you come too?"
"I have a prior engagement with Miss Thistle," he drawled. Hearing her name, the monkey chittered and skimmed down the curtain to leap onto Aedan's shoulder. He rubbed her head.
"You rogue," Amy teased. "The lairds of Dundrennan must never allow themselves to be smitten, even by a lady monkey. There's a nasty old curse," she explained to the Blackburns.
"Curse?" Christina Blackburn asked.
Lady Balmossie leaned toward her. "They say that the lairds o' Dundrennan must never wed for love. 'Tis all nonsense, do ye ask me, but the men in this family like to believe it."
"Oh!" Christina blinked, clearly uncertain how to answer.
"It is nonsense, I'm sure," Aedan said, standing, "but it is convenient to leave true love to sentimentalists." He bowed, making light of it, and turned to deposit the monkey on a tall stand, fixing her ankle with a small chain and feeding her an apple slice from a bowl. He turned. "Please excuse me. I have some correspondence that needs attention." With a polite nod, he went to the door.
"Do meet us in the dining room or the library," Amy said.
He looked over his shoulder. Seated amid the other ladies, Christina Blackburn seemed to bloom like a pale rose. Fascinated by her, he feared he could not easily stay away.
"Perhaps," he said, as he opened the door.
Chapter 5
The rainbow luster of the books made Christina gasp in awe as she followed Lady Strathlin into the library. High windows admitted silvery, rainy daylight gleaming on polished tables and leather chairs. Soaring bookshelves with brass mesh shutters spanned the walls from floor to ceiling.
She turned. A gallery walk skimmed the upper walls, accessed by iron staircases, and bookshelves were even boxed into pillars that divided the huge room into private reading bays beneath the gallery level.
Above the fireplace hung her father's oil painting of Mary, Queen of Scots, for which her mother had posed. Christina smiled with delight, turning again. Despite its size, the library was cozy, warmed by wood, leather, bright carpets, plenty of light, and the enticing smell of a wealth of books.
"It's wonderful," Christina breathed. She loved books and libraries, and in the years since Stephen's death, reading and studying had provided a much-needed haven of safety.
"This was once the great hall of the old medieval keep," Lady Strathlin said. "Sir Hugh renovated it for his library. His study is through that alcove." She pointed to a corner with an open door. Christina saw a mahogany desk, leather chair, and more bookshelves.
"How many books are in the collection?" she asked.
"Over eight thousand." Aedan MacBride stepped out from behind a pillar in his shirtsleeves and vest, his thick hair slightly mussed, as if he had combed his fingers through it. Behind him she saw a larger table scattered with papers, pencils, a slide rule, and a few maps. She had not realized he was there, and felt herself blush. "This library was one of my father's chief passions, besides his poetry, and of course Dundrennan itself."
"Aedan!" Lady Strathlin said. "Is Dougal with you?"
"Here, love." Another man rounded the same pillar, his tall, powerful build and lighter coloring complementing Aedan MacBride's lean, dark Celtic grace. He came forward to kiss Lady Strathlin's tilted cheek and turned to take Christina's hand.
"I'm Dougal Stewart, Lady Strathlin's husband." His smile was kind, his handshake warm and firm. She liked him instantly.
"Christina Blackburn, from the National Museum. I'm so glad to meet you," she answered.
"Dougal is a lighthouse engineer," Aedan explained. "Perhaps you've heard of the Caran Lighthouse in the Western Isles."
"Yes, of course! It was completed recently," Ch
ristina said. "Quite an admirable feat, from what I understand."
Dougal shrugged, smiling. "My real fame is as the husband of the admirable Lady Strathlin—and of course as Amy's brother and Aedan's cousin."
Aedan MacBride huffed in amusement. "I hope you've come to claim your husband, madam," he told Lady Strathlin. "He is driving me mad with facts about the ratio of wave force to solid mass." He glanced at Christina. "If Dougal does not have some project to challenge him, he will harangue anyone who will listen with numbers and ratios and tales of nature."
She laughed, glad to be included so naturally in their camaraderie.
"There is plenty to distract me these days," Dougal replied. "My wife and our children—they are safely tucked up at Balmossie, Mrs. Blackburn—challenge me constantly." He tucked Lady Strathlin's hand discreetly and tenderly in his. Her fair skin suffused in a pretty flush as she looked up at him.
The warm glow of the couple's love and respect for each other seemed tangible, Christina thought, and she nearly sighed with longing. Her chance for an intimate, joyful relationship had been cast already with Stephen—she had gambled and lost.
Noticing Aedan MacBride frowning, she remembered Lady Balmossie's remark that the lairds of Dundrennan never married for love. Perhaps he did not approve of the happy display between Dougal and his wife.
Yet MacBride did not seem like a man opposed to love. He rather reminded her of a lost boy standing out in the cold, peering inside at a cozy family scene. His frown masked a poignant hunger—she was sure of it. Christina recognized that in his gaze because she felt the same way.
"Mrs. Blackburn wanted to explore the library," Lady Strathlin said. "Sir Aedan can show you better than I can."
"I would be happy to do that," he murmured.
Smiling, Lady Strathlin took her husband's arm. "I promised Mr. Blackburn that I would show him the marvelous books of art engravings kept here. He's with Amy and Lady Balmossie in the dining room. Come with me, Dougal. I want to introduce you. He's an artist, and you know I've been thinking about having our portraits done," she said as they left the library.