Chapter Four #2
“If the laird knew that I’m an artist,” John said, “I wonder if he would let me paint some walls here. I’m that desperate for the work, and I love any sort of painting work.”
“Don’t jest, John. You should not climb a ladder.”
“No joke, dear. I’ve had only a few commissions since my injury.”
MacGregor stopped before a pair of oak doors. “Bonny sir. And sir.” He bowed.
“Tapadh leat, mac Griogair,” Christina said, thanking him.
He smiled quickly. “Tha Gaidhlig mhath agad.”
“What was that?” John asked.
“He said I have good Gaelic,” Christina replied. “Our mother was born in the Highlands,” she explained to the butler in that tongue. “She taught her children the Gaelic.”
“Very good, it is!” MacGregor replied.
“I have forgotten most of what I learned,” John said in rough Gaelic. “My sister taught in a Gaelic school in Fife a few years ago.”
“Helping Highland people! Good, good! I am thanking you.”
He knocked on the door, then opened it to peer cautiously into the gap. Then he stood back and waited for Christina and John to enter.
Christina saw a lovely room, but had no time to notice anything else.
A blur of motion and sound whirled toward her, and a man’s hand lashed out in front of her face.
She heard the smack as he caught something.
His fist brushed the tip of her nose, knocking her eyeglasses askew.
Gasping, she stumbled back against the door jamb.
A sun-bronzed hand clutched a teacup in long fingers. Broad shoulders in a black wool coat filled her view. Stunned, she saw Aedan MacBride peering at her as he lowered his arm. “Welcome, Mrs. Blackburn.”
“Well done, sir!” John crowed. “Excellent catch.”
“It comes of practice. Madam, I apologize.” Aedan MacBride held the teacup he had caught before it struck her nose. Christina blinked at him.
“Tcha,” MacGregor said behind them. “Needing an umbrella in there, you are.”
“Och, puir lass!” An elderly lady in black, seated on a sofa, called out.
“Do come in and sit doon. Miss Thistle!” She snapped as something small and brown—a cat?
—scurried under a draped table. Two young women, blonde and lovely, chased after it.
One of them bent to look under a linen-covered table.
Bewildered, Christina glanced at Sir Aedan.
“Please excuse the rather unusual reception, madam.”
“Sir Aedan,” she said, holding out her hand as if they had not met in the middle of the night. “So nice to see you.”
He took her fingers, his touch light but firm, his smile appealingly mischievous. In daylight, he was a stunning fellow, eyes keen blue, hair a thick, deep brown, nearly black. His suit of black wool was neat, though slightly mud spattered, as were his boots.
“And Mr. Blackburn,” Sir Aedan said, taking John’s hand firmly. Then the laird took her elbow, his touch firm and warm through her sleeve. Christina glanced up at him and felt her heart patter at a ridiculous pace.
His powerful maleness was distracting. She remembered the strength of his arms around her, the brush of his lips in the darkness. Blushing, she let him 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 Lady Strathlin went to her knees, skirts spreading, to coo at and coax the elusive monkey.
“Thistle!” his aunt moaned. “How could you! We have guests!”
One by one, Aedan calmly introduced his kinswomen to the startled guests. Amy smiled brightly, then squealed as Thistle scuttled under her skirts and then peered out.
“Mrs. Blackburn, please have a seat. Pardon the—commotion. Mr. Blackburn, if you will, take a seat as well.” Aedan guided her to the sofa beside his aunt, who turned her fan to flap it helpfully in Christina’s face.
John took a seat, laughing quietly, while his sister glanced around as if bewildered.
“Mrs. Blackburn, can we fetch you some tea? Or smelling salts?” Aedan asked wryly.
“Oh no, I’m quite fine. What interesting commotion.” She smiled up at him.
“If flying teacups do not bother you, you are admirable indeed,” he answered.
He was glad she had made no fuss about the monkey—or about falling down the stairs last night either.
She was calm and composed, though she likely felt bruised today.
Yet he had noticed only a little limp as he guided into the room.
Considering his kinswomen’s penchant for drama, the girl’s unruffled nature was very appealing.
“Such a kerfuffle!” Lady Balmossie said as the two young women tried to snatch the monkey. She turned to Christina Blackburn. “Are ye harmed, lassie? Such a fright!”
“I’m quite unbothered,” she said, sounding amused. “So good to meet all of you. My brother and I are grateful for your hospitality.”
John leaned forward, hands folded on the head of his cane. “I must say, I am utterly charmed. What a delightful welcome.”
His wide smile was relaxed, Aedan noticed. He was a lean gentleman with dark-brown curls, calf-like brown eyes. Aedan suspected that the man’s looks, with the added romance of a limp, would melt his kinswomen’s hearts.
A bundle of peach satin skittered along the back of a chair. Aedan reached out but just missed catching Miss Thistle.
Christina Blackburn stared. “Is that… a monkey? I thought it was a cat!”
John laughed. “Sir Aedan, where did you come by that wee beastie? I saw them in the wild when I was in India, and some fellows brought them home as pets. This one’s a female, I take it?”
“Aye. Miss Thistle came from India years ago. She was my father’s pet, and now my aunt takes care of her,” Aedan explained. The monkey leaped to his shoulder. Aedan sat on the arm of the sofa near Christina Blackburn and dipped his shoulder.
“Mrs. Blackburn, meet Miss Thistle.”
Reaching out, she tentatively touched the monkey’s head. Miss Thistle chittered, leaped away, and climbed 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 so close.” She sounded astonished.
“In his will, my father left Thistle in the care of my aunt,” Aedan said. “He knew I would not have the patience for her.”
“You are gentle with her.” Hearing that, he shrugged, and Christina smiled at him, simple and sweet, and yet his body stirred. No other woman had so easily thrown him off-kilter with a mere smile. He frowned to counter it.
“You rescued my sister gallantly, sir,” John said. “What a catch!”
“I have learned to act swiftly around Thistle. It was a pleasure to save your sister,” Aedan added. He saw her blush again. That hint of passion and emotion beneath her cool exterior fascinated him. He wondered how such a quiet little beauty 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 said 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 then. Mrs. Shaw, I think.”
“Yes! She is now Mrs. Hamilton. She married my secretary just recently.” Meg smiled. “That was a wonderful exhibit, by the way. I remember you had a role in the discovery of those remarkable pieces, and in arranging the displays as well.”
Christina nodded. “I went with my uncle to the site, where we were fortunate to find some things. And I was also fortunate to work with Sir Edgar Neaves of the National Museum, helping to identify and catalog the pieces. How kind of you to recall.”
Aedan was grateful that Meg made Christina Blackburn feel more comfortable after that raucous introduction to his family. He smiled privately at his cousin’s wife and saw an answering sparkle in her blue eyes.
“What a marvelous house, Sir Aedan,” John said. “I noticed some work is being done here. It is quite an undertaking to refurbish such a large place.”
“It certainly is. My father’s will specified renovating the house, and so I am doing my best to fulfill his wishes.”
“We want to capture Sir Hugh’s grand vision for Dundrennan,” Amy said.
Hearing that proprietary “we,” Aedan gave her a quick look.
She was surely a help, though not in the sense of the romantic partnership she seemed to imply.
“The house was still unfinished at the time of his death. Aedan has a vision too.” She rested a hand on his arm for a moment.
“Aedan has another very good reason to work on the house,” Lady Balmossie said. “Queen Victoria is planning to visit soon!”
“How exciting!” Christina said.
“It is!” Lady Balmossie nodded. “Aedan has been corresponding with Her Majesty.”
“Just the queen’s secretary,” he clarified.
“The queen and her consort will preside over the opening of the Glasgow Waterworks soon, and then ride north over the new road—which should be finished by then,” he added.
“They plan to stay here for one night, then tour the Strathclyde hills the next day, and head north to Balmoral.”
Lady Balmossie whisked her fan. “Will the house be ready in time? The painting and carpeting must be completed, and we must find an artist soon!”
“Artist?” John Blackburn asked.
“To decorate the dining room,” Lady Balmossie explained. “My late brother’s vision for the house included murals on the walls.”
“Ah, murals,” John said, glancing at his sister.