“Aye then,” he went on. “We can forget this?”
She drew a shaky breath. “Is it so easy?”
“We can manage.” He reached past her to catch the door. “Shall we go, Mrs. Blackburn? It is time for tea. It should be pleasant, as Miss Thistle is over at Balmossie, probably lobbing plantains at all and sundry.” He smiled, but it was hollow.
She moved past him in silence.
Chapter Fifteen
“Ihave anidea that I think you will love,” John announced as he entered the breakfast room, tapping his cane.
Christina glanced up, coffee cup lifted. She had come to the breakfast room early to find Aedan already seated at the table, when she had half hoped he might be gone for the day already. He sat reading a newspaper; they exchanged polite greetings and ate in silence. Then John arrived, his enthusiasm like a fresh breeze blowing the tension away.
“Not ‘Good morning, dear sister,’ but simply ‘I have an idea,’” she laughed.
“Inspiration has hold of me,” her brother replied with a grin. He went to the sideboard and piled his plate with food, then managed to bring it to the table. Rising, Christina fetched him a cup of fresh coffee with a generous amount of cream.
Aedan folded his paper. “What inspiration?”
“I know what to do with the mural now,” John answered, buttering some toast. “I made some sketches last night. I think it will work very well.”
“What is that?” Christina asked.
“I can tell you two,” John said, “but it must stay between us for now.”
“It will remain our secret,” Aedan promised magnanimously.
“Good. Very well. I have decided to use the painted landscape already in place on the wall. I will freshen it up with some details, and then add scenes from the legend.”
“The legend?” Christina asked. She glanced at Aedan.
“The Dundrennan legend. It was the original intention of the mural.”
“It was. Go on,” Aedan said.
“I will arrange several scenes in medieval fashion, with past, present, and future seen in the foreground, middle ground, and background. Like some medieval psalters that present a long story on one page.”
“I know the sort of thing you mean. It seems fitting,” she said.
“On the wall by the doorway, the prince will arrive with his Celtic warriors—golden torques, armbands, plaid cloaks, shining weapons. Then we will see the meeting of the prince and princess in her father’s hall, and in the next scene, the Druid prince teaches the princess to write.”
“To write? Perhaps she knew already and taught him,” Christina said.
“Unlikely, but it could go either way,” John said. “They fall in love then, you see, so it will be a tender scene. Next, her father imprisons her in a tower when she refuses to wed a rival king. The prince climbs up to meet her in secret.”
“That scene could go on the wall beside the window,” Christina said.
“Just what I was thinking. On the last wall, she holds her newborn son, then escapes from the tower. She is caught by the evil rival, who casts a sleeping spell over her. Then the prince discovers her fallen in the briar. The last scene shows his grief and his devotion as she lies asleep forever.” John waved a hand. “And the entire mural will be bordered in a pattern of Celtic knot work and rose-briar vines.”
“I love it,” Christina said. “But it is up to Sir Aedan. It is his mural.”
“I like the concept. We can keep the plan quiet until you finish it. We could ban others from the room until you are ready for your work to be seen.”
“Thank you. I need to do sketches first and work those into the walls. I have asked some of the others to pose. Miss Amy and Lady Balmossie, along with household staff.”
“A nice idea. Amy would be beyond delighted,” Aedan said.
“She wanted to be the princess, but I asked her to pose for other roles—the queen, a nurse, the princess’s sister. I would like you two to pose for the prince and princess.”
