“Want some wine?” he asked.
“You have wine?”
“We arenae totally uncivilized out here. Actually, Duncan makes it. It isnae the kind ye are probably used to but it serves.”
“I did not see any grapes around.”
“There are some wild ones he uses now and then but he uses whatever is at hand. I think the bottle he gave me was blackberry.”
“Huh. Never had that. My aunt Catherine used to make wine. Some of them were nice. Some, well, not so much. I liked her elderberry wine.” She sat up and he handed her a glass then watched as she took a sip. “Different but tasty.”
“Aye. A wee bit sweeter than I like but he does it weel.” He took a sip. “Hmmm. Not as sweet as last year’s batch. Better. Stronger, too, I think. I begin to believe we may be planting some grapes if he keeps up.”
Emily laughed. “You are a very gifted family. Furniture, weaving, painting, wine making. There are three brothers left. Do they have a skill as well?”
“Weel, Matthew can talk to horses, calm the most jittery of the beasts. Funny, but I wouldnae have thought horses in this country would respond to the Gaelic, but they do.”
“That is odd, but still a gift. Gaelic, really?”
“Aye, Gaelic. Occasionally sings an old song.” He grinned when she laughed softly.
“Still leaves two brothers,” she said, and smiled at him.
“They havenae found anything yet.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. “I have something for ye. I have been holding it for a while, giving ye time to, weel, grieve.”
Emily blinked then quickly drained her glass of wine. She guessed he had something that had been David’s or Annabel’s. While she felt she was over the worst of her grieving, she did not think she was ready to see some personal item of the people she had lost. She had dealt with her grief mostly by not thinking of their deaths. Then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, grabbing hold of a thread of calm and sanity. The question to answer was when would she be ready and there was no certain answer. Better to brace herself now and get it over with.
“Emily?” He reached out and ran his hand up and down her arm.
“I just needed a moment.” She looked at her empty glass and set it down. “And something to brace myself with. So, what do you have?”
Iain studied Emily for a moment. He could see that she did not want to see what he had, did not want her memories stirred up again, but she would do it. He wished there was some good time, a more appropriate time, to give her the things he had taken from the dead, but doubted there would ever be one. He pulled the small wrapped package from a pocket in his pants and held it for a moment as he studied her. Unable to decide what her expression meant, he sighed and gave it to her.
Emily’s hands trembled faintly as she opened the small package and spread it out on her lap. She reached for Annabel’s locket first, opened it, and felt a sharp pain in her heart as she stared at the small pictures. She could recall when Annabel got it, the day they got the pictures, and even when Annabel had put them in the locket. She had spoken of keeping her boys next to her heart as she had tucked it inside the neck of her gown.
Putting the locket down, she picked up the rings. They shone as if freshly cleaned. Inside each one was part of a maudlin saying about united hearts. Annabel had spent far too much of their money for the things when they were in New York getting Neddy’s birth certificate verified by every member of the gentry they could find and she had said they needed them to let everyone see they were married. David had been angry at first but too much in love to stay angry. Emily absently brushed aside the tear that rolled down her cheek.
“Why?” she managed to ask, her gaze fixed on the portrait of Annabel holding Neddy and taken at a time when her sister had bubbled up with happiness.
“I thought ye would want something to remember them by. And the rings?” He shrugged. “They seemed like the sort of thing a parent might pass on to his child.”
“Thank you.”
“I didnae want to make ye cry.”
She smiled, leaned toward him, and brushed a kiss over his mouth. “You did not. It was seeing her when she was at her happiest. Then the rings, they reminded me of all she could not forget.”
“What do ye mean?”
“They cost far too much, and we did not have all that much anyway. Yet she never thought on that; it never occurred to her. She just took the money for them and was hurt because David was angry about that. I had to sell a few pieces of my jewelry to replace the money she took and that also bothered David. Annabel did not know how to change who she was.” She managed a little smile. “But you are right, when the time comes Neddy will appreciate them.”
“That is sad.” He watched her rewrap the locket and rings and tuck them into a pocket in her skirt. “Do ye think her husband kenned it, saw that she didnae want to change?”
Emily opened her mouth to say that David had loved Annabel. He had but that was not the right answer. A memory came flooding in and she realized he had understood his wife could not change, did not even want to try, and still loved her. She had been weeding the garden and David had been stocking the woodpile. Annabel had been sitting in a chair in the shade, fanning herself. At one point Emily had looked up to find him staring at her, his eyes sad. He had then smiled sadly and said that she was a good girl, that she knew what was important, and had the strength to accept change.
She felt Iain’s hand stroke her hair and knew she had just spoken out loud. She had not intended to, did not like to voice any criticisms of her dead sister, but also found she did not really mind when it was Iain. Emily did not resist when he pulled her into his arms. She slid her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest.
“How old was your sister?” he asked.
