Chapter 11
The breakfast bell rang. Edwina set the book aside, glad for the break, then hustled off to the dining room. Bertie did not need another cause to ruin her already busy day.
She appeared and instantly saw the elderly couple from last evening. They rushed up to her and said excitedly, “We have chosen Chicago.”
“Ah, well done. You will not be disappointed, although New York has much to offer too.”
“Yes, dear, and we will be so close while we’re in Boston . . .” the lady smiled at her husband.
“Funds, dear. It is for lack of funds.” He patted his wife’s arm.
A thought struck Edwina. “I... well my sister owns several bed-and-breakfast units in downtown Chicago. Might I help you save some... funds... by putting you up while in Chicago? Perhaps then you could visit New York as well?”
“Oh no, we could not accept, although it is a fine offer,” the woman said immediately.
Edwina was not sure of Scottish protocol as yet and wondered if she should insist or let it remain an open invitation. She decided quickly.
“Do you have a paper and pen?”
The man pulled out a gold pen from his suit jacket and a slice of elegant paper with their address in script at the top.
Edwina wrote her sister’s name and phone number on it and returned it. “Should you decide, my sister will see to it you are treated very well, at no cost to you,” Edwina threw in. By this time her sister would be richer than she was previously now that her father had left his fortune to her. And in exchange for the Scot’s kindness to her, really to her sister indirectly, she reasonably expected Cecelia to put them up.
“It would be most kind of you, should we find ourselves able.” The man bowed slightly and slipped the paper in the pocket of his suit jacket. “Our address, should you need us.” He handed her a fresh sheet.
“Ah, our host.” The older man said with a smile.
Edwina turned and saw Mr. Dunnegin coming toward them. Wasn’t he supposed to be gone by now?
“Sorry to be late,” he said without a smile.
Oh boy, things were not good. Edwina started for her seat when she was grabbed at the elbow and propelled forward. What now?
Before she knew what was happening she was seated in Ilana’s chair. The Scot then stepped around the table to settle the elderly woman in her chair, waited for the man to be seated before he took his own. Where in the world was Ilana going to sit? Surely she would toss Edwina out on her head if she were to come in and find her position occupied. Her eyes slid back and forth from the doorway to the Scot to the elderly couple.
“She will not be joining us,” he said pointedly with a stare. “Stop fidgeting.”
Edwina set her hands in her lap, eased to the point that at least the fiancée would not be yanking her hair out strand by strand. Perhaps she was out purchasing the lace for her storybook wedding dress.
Breakfast was served and eaten in good spirits, at least with the couple and Edwina... the Scot’s thoughts were else- where and he barely spoke. And Bertie. Well, she made up for the lack of smiles and good humor. Edwina just stared at her. The woman was smiling at every turn, quick to serve them, almost glowing. Glowing?
The Scot was angry, Bertie was happy. Such things that went on in castles these days. Edwina almost shook her head.
When the plates were removed and the small talk had pretty much died down, Edwina excused herself to the library.
Sunk deeply in the leather chair with the World War II volume still heavy upon her lap, she started to doze. She laid her head back, shut her tired eyes, and relaxed. She wasn’t even worried about tomorrow. Her mind drifted to hills and dales and women in fanciful, flowing dresses.
Something pulled her from her reverie. Slowly she opened her eyes, stretched her arms outward, and found herself in the presence of Alex Dunnegin. He was sitting in the chair opposite her, his booted legs stretched out in front of him... looking at her.
“What?” She came awake alarmed.
He lifted his hand as though to stop her. “I came in to bid my guest bye-the-bye and found ye dozing.”
“Oh.” She closed the book and started to rise. How long had he been there?
“Remain seated. I have much to do and must be on my way. Reardon will see ye to Edinburgh this evening or in the morning, whichever ye wish.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, still mush-minded.
“It was kind of you to offer yer sister’s accommodations for my friends.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Not after all you’ve done for me. And for my sister, indirectly,” she added smiling. “She planned the trip.”
“The cause of yer predicament, eh?”
“Exactly.” she said. “You see my sister is rather elegant, English and beautiful. It was her picture that arrived by fax and no one believes she is me... as well they shouldn’t.”
“Will ye have trouble tomorrow... on the tour, I mean.”
“Probably, but I will insist, absolutely insist that I be let on.” She smiled at her ability to make light of the problem.
“Ah, a lass in a man’s world.”
Edwina thought about that for a moment. “Well, not exactly,” she admitted. “Cecelia, my sister, she’s one of those.”
“Ah, another one,” he said and looked past her through the windows deep in thought, the smile gone from his lips. Lips much too pretty for a man. Where had that come from? I’ve never noticed a man’s lips before. But then, she reasoned, I’ve never seen so much handsomeness wrapped up in one man before either.
The Scot stood to his full height. “Hope you enjoy the rest of your tour in bonny Scotland.” He bowed. His long black coat swung at his booted ankles as he exited, leaving the room bereft at his absence.
“Jeesh.” She was falling below the line of common sense and letting her silly heart rush away with her thoughts.