“So it does. I had not noticed that before.” He glanced toward the window, where flowery curtains framed rosebushes heavy with late-summer blooms. How had he never seen that? He flicked his newspaper and returned to reading.
A maid sailed into the room, small and redheaded, to pour coffee into a china cup for Mrs. Blackburn and refill Aedan’s cup. She set a packet of mail at his elbow.
“Thank you, Muriel,” he murmured, as the maid bobbed, smiled, and left the room.
Christina looked up. “I thought she was called Sonsie Jean.”
“Her given name is Muriel. My father called all the maids Jeanie to save himself the trouble of learning names. He was a brilliant poet, but scattered about some things.”
“What about Bonnie Jean and Wee Jean?”
“Bonnie Jean happens to be her name. Wee Jeanie is Eliza.” He sipped the steaming coffee. “Mrs. Gunn calls the maids the Jeanies, since she clings to my father’s ways. Part habit, and partly because she misses him a good deal.”
“His influence is everywhere here.”
“It is.” Aware of her steady gaze, Aedan raised the newspaper like a shield and tried to concentrate on a column that reported Queen Victoria’s public schedule.
“What is so fascinating?” she asked.
He turned down a corner of the page. “It is reported that the royal family are expected to travel to their Highland home at Balmoral soon. Their schedule is here for September and October.”
“I understand they are expected at Dundrennan.”
“Aye, in about two months. And my highway must be completed by then.”
“I hope it all goes smoothly.”
“I certainly hope so.” He met her gaze pointedly. How remarkable that this petite, lovely creature had the power to prevent him from meeting his obligations.
When Christina rose to go to the sideboard, he read on through the paper. He had finished breakfast and should start his day, but something held him—she held him here.
She returned with a plate of eggs, toast, fruit, and paused by the window. “What’s that, beyond the trees? A stone arch, there in the sunlight?”
Aedan looked up. “The Remembrance. A monument to the princess of Dundrennan.”
“The ancient legend? How romantic! It looks like a medieval ruin.”
“True. It may look wildly romantic, but it is just crumbling stones, moss, mildew.”
“But very picturesque. You must be proud to have such a thing on your estate.”
“I suppose so,” he admitted, glancing at the ruined arch surrounded by trees and roses. Somehow Christina Blackburn made him see familiar things in a new way. “You should visit it before you leave.”
“My brother might like to sketch it.”
“He may draw what he likes here,” he murmured, turning another page. He was aware that he acted cool toward her, but he needed the distance, having revealed too much of himself to her. Now he must reel in any lines he had cast out. The woman was just a business acquaintance, and would be gone in a few days.
He glanced at her as she sat again. A stranger, yet he felt as if he had known her all his life, as if she were a missing puzzle piece that fit neatly into a space he had not even known was empty.
She ate discreetly but with good appetite. He liked that in women; some, like Amy, ate like wee birds due to silly notions about appearance and propriety. Amy nibbled at meals, and sometimes even fainted, albeit prettily, from hunger and tight stays.
He sipped coffee and began to open his mail. One letter was another request from the Parliamentary Commissioners for a firm date on the completion of the road through Dundrennan. That answer would depend on what Mrs. Blackburn decided about the find on the hill. Scowling, he pocketed the letter.
“Sir Aedan,” Christina said, “am I late this morning? There is no one else about.”
“Mr. Stewart and Lady Strathlin left for Glasgow early this morning, but asked me to tell you farewell. When my aunt and my cousin are here, they are rarely seen before ten-thirty. After we have all had breakfast, Mrs. Gunn will see that the rest is wrapped and delivered to those who may need it. I am glad to see that you have an honest appetite,” he added. If he had said that to Amy, she would have stopped eating for the rest of the day. “It is very good, and I appreciate the hospitality. Sir, do you suppose Tam Durie could drive me and my brother up to Cairn Drishan this morning?”
“I will be glad to drive you there myself if you can wait until I read my mail.”
