Authors: Linda Rae Blair
Tags: #1725, #1725 scotland, #1912, #1912 paris, #clan, #edinburgh, #greed, #kilt, #murder, #paris, #romance, #scotland, #tartan, #whtie star line
“Well, my dear, you seem to have thought
everything
through quite thoroughly. If that’s what you’ve
decided, that’s what we shall do. Have you plans to see Blair
before we go?” She thought a little gentle shove wouldn’t do any
harm.
“No. There’s no need. The lawyers and the
courts are handling everything. We’re not contesting.
The…
relatives
…are out of the picture. She should be just
fine. She’ll move in here soon, and her new life will begin.”
Something about that had his gut churning uncomfortably, but he
refused to think about it in any depth right now—about what his
family had tried to do to her. The guilt of his family’s
involvement weighed heavily on him.
“I see. Well,” she said, rising from the
table, “I suppose I had best go upstairs and see to getting some of
my things packed.” With that, she walked over to where he sat, bent
over him, and gently kissed the top of his head. He had always been
a stubborn boy, even as a small child. Oh well, she sighed, as she
walked to the staircase, there’s still hope. Perhaps Blair isn’t as
blindly stubborn as her son. Dear God, it does seem to run in the
family, she thought. Then she silently smiled to herself, as she
continued slowly up the stairs to her quarters.
**************************
Chapter 30: Woman Scorned
Donnach, Scotland – August 1912
She had not seen him for weeks. The lawyers
had kept her in meetings for hours at a time, and she was weary
down to her bones. Blair would not understand why Alexandre had
been so distant, not only in attitude, but literally. He had spent
three weeks in France now without so much as a word before he left,
and no letter since. Had the estate meant so much to him that it
had driven a wedge between them?
Who was she kidding? He had had her in his
bed, had enjoyed her while he could, and now he was done with her.
She felt that clutch in her stomach at the thought that he might
have used her. No, she wasn’t going to let herself go there. It was
too humiliating to bear. She had felt the closeness between them.
There had been the intimacy of their shared thoughts, stories about
her past and his, his obvious desire to know her so much better.
Perhaps he did not like what he had found? Then why had he
introduced her to his mother?
She knew nothing about his business in
France. For some reason, Blair had been embarrassed to just come
out and ask him. She prayed that the loss of the estate, and the
wealth that came with it, was not going to cause him, or his dear
mère, any hardship. Surely the shipping business Mairi had spoken
of would support them well. What if the business hadn’t done well?
There had been scandals in shipping throughout the year. What if
Black Swan was suffering losses?
More reflection on his financial state had
her questioning that he would miss the money. After all, he had
stayed in that same expensive hotel in Edinburgh. But back then he
had thought he was going to inherit the estate, so perhaps he had
simply put his finances aside and splurged.
Thinking about that in more depth, she didn’t
quite believe that was the case either. He obviously had had a very
fine education. He dressed impeccably and his manners, when he was
not snarling at her, were those of a gentleman. He had not asked
for any money in the settlement of the estate. Why, oh why, did he
not just talk to her about himself? She was wearing herself out
just going back and forth trying to figure him out.
Then the unthinkable came to her and had her
heart crashing in her chest. Perhaps she would never see him
again…a knock at the door stopped her train of thought. She opened
the door, and ….
“Cousin,” he said, taking in every inch of
her with those eyes.
“Alex, you are back,” she said, as she tried
to smile up at him. The pain of the truth struck her so suddenly
that she found her knees were weak. She was in love with him. Oh,
God, what would she do? He so obviously didn’t want her.
Alexandre saw the shock on her face when she
opened the door. He was unsure whether she was glad or sorry to see
him there. She was so pale, and the color under her eyes told him
she had not been sleeping well. Well, they did have that in common.
While one hand held onto the door so tightly that her knuckles went
white, the other was fitfully playing with the ruffle at the front
of her blouse. “Blair? May I come in?”
“Oh, yes. I am sorry. Do please come in,” she
backed up and gave him room to enter. “Would you like something to
drink? How was your trip?”
He thought of the desolate weeks since he had
seen her. “Some wine would be nice.” The hell he had put himself
through—and for what? One look at her and he was right back where
he’d been before he left. He was done in, and he knew it. Damn, how
had she done this to him? “Business is doing well.”
Blair was aware that his mouth had tightened,
and his brows were pinching together in the way they did when he
was mulling over something that displeased him. She was terribly
afraid that he was angry with her about something, but she could
not imagine what it could be. Did he resent her now that she was
inheriting? Why was she being such a coward?
“Alex, what is wrong? You are obviously upset
about something. Why not just say what is on your mind?”
“May I sit?”
“Of course!” Now her temper was in full
swing. “Alex, do not be so foolish. I have been in your bed! You
think you must still be so formal with me?” She was now pacing back
and forth in front of him, unsure in her own mind of the real
source of her anger.
“Perhaps I should not have come!” he snapped
at her.
“Perhaps not!” she retorted, still
pacing.
“Damn it, woman! Can’t we spend five minutes
together without scratching at each other like alley cats?” He
grabbed her, and the kiss was less than polite. As soon as he
tasted her, he was lost. He’d been hungry for her since he had last
left her. Finally getting a grip on himself, he gently pulled back
from her. “Well, that was better than fighting,” he said quietly,
as he watched her beautiful face. Her eyes were blank, and that
pouty mouth was still slightly open.
What was he saying? She could not focus. “I
am sorry, did you say something?”
“I was saying that I would like to take you
to dinner tomorrow night.” He didn’t even know when the idea had
struck him. He really should stay away from her, but he just didn’t
seem to be able to do it.
“Dinner? I think that would be lovely.” She
really should stay away from him. It would only hurt more when she
lost him, but perhaps this one last time. “Oui.”
***
Later in his rooms, he would curse himself
for his weakness. The best thing he could do for them both would be
to go back to France and stay put.
She was an innocent in so many ways, and he
knew that was the last way anyone had felt about him for a
very
long time. A man of thirty-five years, who had led a
formidable business for more than ten of those years, and with his
reputation—deserved or not—had no business seducing her, hurting
her. He had seen it on her face when she opened the door, the pain
and confusion. He was driving them both crazy.
**************************
Chapter 31: Cupid Strikes
Donnach, Scotland – August 1912
Pacing in his rooms at the inn, Alexandre was
relieved that all the legalities were finally over. He had no need
for the estate as far as money was concerned. God knew he was
wealthy in his own right, as was his mother. He was just glad that
Blair, at last, was safe from harm and would receive everything
that should have been hers from birth. She loved the castle as much
as he did, he knew. Now it would be hers along with enough money
for its upkeep, which he knew from personal experience would cost a
fortune, and a lifestyle that would afford her every luxury. She
would have the opportunity to travel and experience the world.
There was so much
life
in store for her.
As for himself, he was only missing the one
thing he needed more than air. He needed Blair, and he could deny
it no longer. He had been arguing both sides for weeks, getting
nowhere. He had to take his chances. He wasn’t going to let her
slip out of his hands so easily.
She hadn’t even asked him about his plans,
and that had hurt him more than he would have believed. Well, if
she didn’t love him yet, he would just have to work harder to earn
her.
With grim determination on his face, he left
his rooms to go get what he needed—her.
***
She had, at last, heard from Madame and Esmée
both. She had cried for days thinking of poor old Mssr. LeGard.
Esmée was coming for a visit in the fall. Madame was, Blair felt
certain, sending her to check on Blair.
With her, Esmée was bringing the vase Blair
had so lovingly packed up from Roddy’s apartment. She had been so
certain that she had lost everything that remained of his
belongings. Then Esmée wrote that, once the police released access
to the apartment, she and Madame had gone through her belongings to
gather together what few items remained intact.
Esmée had found the beloved vase which had
landed on a rug and rolled under her bed, where it had been saved
from the killer’s search and destruction. There were also her
books, the few that were not damaged. They had also dug up a few of
her spring bulbs so that she could start a new garden with some of
her favorites.
The lawyers and courts had done their jobs,
the banks had done theirs. It was all hers and all now in her name.
Somehow she felt a sadness that it was all over. She would move
into Castle Donnach by the end of the week.
With all the issues resolved, Blair feared
that Alexandre had no reason to come again to Scotland—no, to her.
He would always love and need Scotland. As the tightness in her
throat spread slowly to her stomach, she refused to cry. No, she
would put a smile on her face, and she would wait for him to
destroy her heart without putting him through a scene. It was the
least she could do for the man she knew she would never get
over—nothing more than Caena had done for her Sòlas.
As she pinned the little silver brooch shaped
like a Celtic knot onto the lapel of her jacket, she heard the
knock at her door. She stiffened her spine and, with complete
determination to enjoy and remember every moment of the evening,
she walked to the door. When she opened it she found him standing
there, and the sight of him took her breath away.
He looked so male, so strong standing there
in his kilt and the stockings that rose almost to his knees. The
plaid of the kilt was of their tartan. She knew instantly that she
would think of him every time she saw the pattern or its colors for
the rest of her life.
“Well, my beautiful lassie,” he said, smiling
at her and bowing slightly before her. “Are you ready for
dinner?”
“Aye,” she responded. “I am, kind sir.” She
smiled, curtseying deeply as they mimicked the old ways. Laughing,
they left her rooms—together for what she feared might be the last
time.
***
Dinner had been lovely. Candles burned, and
the flickering light caused crystal to twinkle and pewter to glow
like moonlight. The food was exquisite. The chef had done wonderful
things to the beef grown on the estate. The sauces made in French
style had their mouths watering for more. Neither of them would
ever forget the meal set before them.
Blair felt herself softening to the sweet
glances he sent her while they ate. She didn’t want to soften
toward him. She didn’t want to hurt even more desperately when he
went his own way.
He had been unusually quiet during the meal.
As she sipped on her wine, she noticed that he was watching her in
that unnerving way of his. The eyes locked onto hers, the mouth set
with stubborn determination.
“Alex, tell me how it is that a small village
like Donnach has such fine restaurants? The chef here must have had
formal training. The food is wonderful, but how does a small
village warrant this?”
“It’s our proximity to Edinburgh. As you
know, we are but a short train ride away. We get a fair amount of
tourist trade here, have for many years. My mother saw to it that
some of our local lads and lassies were sent to Paris for their
culinary education, as well as other trades. The agreement with
them was that, once their training was completed, they would open
establishments here in Donnach to help the local economy,” he
explained. “Our fine bookstore is another example, and there are
several others.”
“It seems I have a great deal to learn,” she
admitted.
“Scotland got a great deal of its wealth from
its shipping—importing tobacco from America and sugar from the
islands for sale to the English. Donnach has been a beneficiary by
way of its proximity to Edinburgh’s ocean access. Added to our
Black Face sheep and shaggy Highland cattle, Donnach is much better
off than many villages. My parents did what they could to build the
local economy without losing the ‘
village
’ atmosphere. I
think they were very successful at it over the years.”
“Yes, I believe they were.” Once again, their
conversation lagged. Her nerves were as taut has she had ever
experienced.
“Blair,” he began, with every muscle in his
body tensed, as he tried desperately to maintain control, “are you
not going to ask me of my plans? Have you no interest in where we
go from here?”
He knew he had said the wrong thing the
instant he saw the fire in her eyes ignite. Silently, he cursed
himself for being so awkward about this. He simply couldn’t think
straight with her sitting there, so beautiful, so sweet, so near.
He seemed to make one misstep after another where she was
concerned.
“Your plans?” she asked in utter frustration.
Did the man think he was the only one that could make plans? “Your
plans?” she asked again as her temper finally took over. She had
held on as long as she could. Throwing down her table linen and
gritting her teeth, she charged forward with her tantrum. If she
was going to lose him, she was going to at least have her say. All
her determination to let him go without a scene blew right out the
window!