“I’ve been out blasting the hills,” Aedan said. Crossing his arms, he leaned a shoulder against the wall between the mural panels as if daring Neaves to answer him. Christina glanced anxiously from one to the other, sensing frank tension from Aedan and Edgar’s cool disdain.
Edgar strolled past the long table covered in cloths and the chaos of John’s art materials. “And here is the famous mural, revealed at last!” He leaned to examine sections of wall where elaborate compositions were partially completed in line and color.
“Neither famous nor ready for a reveal.” John limped forward to stand protectively between Edgar and his work. “It is not ready to be seen. Only a few have seen it.”
“I feel so privileged,” Edgar said without remorse.
Christina frowned, aware John had not invited the man to share tea with them. She exchanged a quick look with Aedan, who leaned casually, his gaze steady on hers.
Edgar perused the walls. “We are friends, after all, and since your sister and the laird are here, I assume you meant to include me as well. Parts of this are quite good.”
“And the rest?” John barked.
“Not bad. Unfinished, so we will reserve our opinion. Will it be done in time for the queen to see it when she visits?”
“It should be presentable enough by then, with luck,” John said.
Nodding, Edgar crossed the room to examine the other part of the mural, still in charcoal sketches on whitewash. “How fortunate for you that I am here. The museum is contemplating a large mural for the Industries Hall to be opened early next year.”
“I had not heard,” John said.
“No one has. You should submit sketches for the project. Lord Neaves, my father, heads the committee. Winning that assignment would be quite the plum. And the Blackburn name might be good for the museum, in that sense.”
“It is considerate of you to suggest it, Edgar,” Christina said, when John murmured his thanks. Aedan said nothing, still and watchful.
“I am pleased to help Christina’s brother.” Edgar locked his fingers behind him as he walked, studying each scene. “Your mural has a medieval sense. This is the legend of the Dundrennan princess, I take it?”
“Aye,” John said. “But I do not care to have it examined closely just yet.”
Ignoring the artist’s discomfort, Edgar peered closely at an image of the prince and princess. They faced each other, hands joined, framed by a painted stone arch. Christina blushed to recall posing with Aedan—and what had followed between them later.
Edgar frowned. “Christina,” he said, “this is you and Dundrennan himself?”
“Aye,” Aedan answered for her.
Neaves turned. “But you promised to reform your behavior.”
She stared at him, speechless. Then she remembered. When Stephen’s painting of the briar princess had been exhibited at the Royal Scottish Academy, Edgar had ordered the picture taken down early. She had been grateful to end her public embarrassment, and she had told Edgar then that she would never pose for such a thing again.
“It is not nearly the same,” she said, feeling her cheeks burn.
“Sir, that was ungentlemanly.” Aedan stepped forward.
“Considering her unfortunate past experience, I cannot approve of her posing again. And not even alone this time, but with a man. It is most unseemly.”
“She does not need your approval,” Aedan answered.
“Edgar, there is no harm in it,” Christina said. “I am proud to be part of John’s mural.”
“Others are posing too,” John said. “Lady Balmossie posed for the princess’s mother, as you see.” He pointed to one of the figures. “Miss Stewart modeled for another. Those ladies were willing to model for the mural. So was Christina.”
Edgar frowned, studying the wall as he walked toward the last scene, charcoal sketched on white plaster. Here was the scene of the prince lifting his unconscious princess in his arms. Slipping a monocle from his pocket, Edgar leaned forward.
“Really, Christina!” He sounded shocked.
Aedan took a step toward him. “The mural is not ready to be seen. I’m sure you understand. The door is there.” He gestured toward it.
Edgar inclined his head. “Sir, I’ve been meaning to speak with you, and this seems a good moment. Since you have not met the conditions of your father’s will, the museum’s advocate will summon your advocate to meet and discuss the transfer of the house.”
