Cecelia
by Patricia Strefling
Copyright © 2009, 2011, 2012 by Patricia Strefling
Cecelia
by Patricia Strefling Printed in the United States of America
Published by Patricia Strefling
Smashwords edition
2011 Book cover designed by Leah Banicki
Cecelia cover image, couple, © Alena Ozerova, blossom, © Cheryl Davis - Fotolia.com
All rights reserved solely by the author. The author guarantees all contents are original and do not infringe upon the legal rights of any other person or work. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission of the author. The views expressed in this book are not necessarily those of the publisher.
Unless otherwise indicated, Bible quotations are taken from The NLT (New Living Translation). Copyright © 1988, 1989, 1990, 1991, 1993, 1996 by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois.
To each of us whose bad choices have taught us a measure of wisdom and whose good ones a measure of grace.
Chapter 1
Dunnegin Castle – Edinburgh, Scotland
“Cecelia, you and Spencer have to go back to the States. There will be a wedding, but I have no notion of when or where or . . . ,” Edwina said to her overbearing stepsister as they sipped tea in the formal dining room.
“Edwina, you know how you are. You’ll wrap some oversized length of gauze around yourself and call it a wedding dress.”
“So what if I do? If it makes me happy.” Edwina knew her smile, must look silly pasted on her face. Only days ago she had accepted Alex Dunnegin’s proposal of marriage.
“There will be none of that talk.” Cecelia’s blue eyes were shining as her cup clattered into the saucer.
Edwina knew that was a bad sign.
“Look around you, Ed.” Her sister swung her arms in wide arcs. “If you haven’t noticed, you’re living in a castle.”
“We are not going to live here,” Edwina said quietly and waited.
“Does he think you’ll want to live in that farmhouse . . . cottage, or whatever you call that little ancient building, where all the dust and animals are?” She interrupted and turned to stare.
“It’s only been three weeks since Paige’s accident.” A glance at Cecelia told Edwina she hadn’t heard that last statement. Edwina sought to connect her sister’s mind to other things and mused, “I think my wedding dress should . . .” She paused for effect.
“What? What are you thinking, Edwina Emily Blair? Because I can tell you right now Alex’s family is going to expect a suitable affair.”
Edwina knew “suitable” meant extravagant. Cecelia’s prim English upbringing absolutely required her to make a good showing. Her sister was commandeering the wedding train, and it was flying down the track to Weddingville. Edwina knew there was no way to stop it. There must be some way to convince her to go back home to Chicago.
“Are you mumbling again?” Cecelia stood and picked at Edwina’s hair. “Have you chosen a color for your bridesmaid’s dresses? And I suppose if you insist on traipsing all over the Scottish hills in that gauzy dress idea of yours, we’ll have to purchase special shoes.”
Edwina planned on wearing simple white slippers on her wedding day, but that thought would never be spoken or she would have another battle on her hands. She preferred to be barefoot, if the truth were known.
“Oh, and Alex will want his family’s traditions included too. His family crest and tartan must be considered.” Cecelia’s finger was tapping her chin. “Then the food. Heaven knows that will have to be Scottish and American cuisine. Spencer will help us with that. Did you know he has an aunt here in Edinburgh?”
“No, he didn’t mention it.” Edwina was glad for the diversion.
“She’ll advise him on the preparation of the right Scottish dishes.” Cecelia’s pen scratched on the paper.
“Cece, please let Alex and I talk before you go any further.” Edwina leaned in to catch her sister’s eye. It was no use. Once she’d made up her mind, Cecelia—her beautiful, talented, entrepreneurial sister—would not be dissuaded. She hadn’t heard a word.
“Cecelia Grace Giatano, are you interfering again?” Spencer Hallman walked into the dining room and snatched the paper out of Cecelia’s hand.
“Stop it, Spencer.” She turned angry blue eyes on him.
“What is this?” Spencer stepped away from the wild woman. “Can’t you give them a chance to plan their own wedding?” he called out as he read the page and saw his aunt’s name listed.
“My aunt is eighty-four years old.” He laughed. “Past her prime in planning a wedding dinner, I would say.”
“You have no idea what it takes to pull off a successful wedding.” Cecelia snatched the paper back.
“Successful? Businesses are successful, Cecelia. Weddings are personal.” He dropped his chin and widened his eyes as he peered over his trendy black glasses.
Spencer’s blond hair stuck up everywhere, and the expression on his face nearly threw Edwina into fits, giddy as she was these days. She also knew Cecelia hated it when Spencer did that.
“Now listen you two, you have your bed-and-breakfast, Cece — Spencer, you have the new restaurant in Chicago to worry about. You don’t need to plan anything. I am capable of handling our wedding,” Edwina stated firmly and waited for the words to sink in.
“Now Ed, you know you don’t have a single bit of sense when it comes to elegance, let alone planning a lavish affair.” Cecelia smoothed her upswept blond hair.
“Aye, and I have nothing to say about me own wedding?” Alex Dunnegin stepped through the double doors as three pairs of eyes settled on him.
“What? Three voices hushed at my presence?” he teased. “Paige and I are aboot a ride. Anyone want to come along?”
“Sure, I’d love a ride.” Cecelia started for the door. “Have you a convertible? It is such a beautiful day.”
Edwina watched Alex’s frown slowly turn into a smirk.
“Do you like the outdoors, Miss Giatano?” he said formally to the English-born lass.
“Of course I do.” She lifted her chin.
“Then you will enjoy my offer. You will ride atop my best mare. She will guide you through the wooded paths more gently than a motor car.”
“Horseback riding?” Cecelia’s nose wrinkled. “Whatever gave you the idea I’d get upon a wild beast and let my hair fly about in such a fashion?”
Alex shrugged. “Suit yourself. Coming, Edwina?”
Edwina’s heart pumped blood into her face again as she caught his handsome green eyes beckoning her. “Yes.” Her voice escaped barely audible.
Someone had better pinch me. I am walking on some stage, the violins and flutes playing in the background, and my knight in shining armor has appeared and declared his love for me. Edwina chided herself for such silly thoughts.
Yet no one was more surprised that she had captured Alex Dunnegin’s stubborn Scot heart. It had taken the last three days to convince herself, but she was beginning to believe he really meant all those things he’d said. For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine that he was telling the truth until he kissed her in the field near his grandfather’s cottage.
That kiss told her things she’d thought impossible.
Chapter 2
Edwina came to her senses and called over her shoulder. “Coming, Spencer?” “Not a chance.” He winked and turned to Cecelia.
Edwina noticed there was an indulgent smile on his face as he settled her sister’s nerves with calm words. In that moment, as she followed her own beloved, she wondered if Cecelia had found her knight but did not yet see it.
Musing at the thought, she ran into Alex’s back as a puff of air escaped her throat. He turned, and she saw a spark in his eyes. All thoughts of Cecelia’s love life flew away like so many autumn leaves on a blustery day. Alex raised his hand and smoothed her hair.
“Is it standing out?” Her hands fluttered aimlessly at his touch.
“Aye.” Thankfully, five-year-old Paige, called from upstairs. Alex grabbed her hand and took the stairs two at a time, heaving her along. As they strode into Paige’s room, Alex sent her a backward glance and a wink.
“How’s me bairn?” Alex’s voice boomed.
“I’m ready, Da. I asked Mr. Gillespie to put Mama’s saddle on my horse.”
“Lass, ye are not riding alone. Ye have no sense in your cockle-burr brain. Ye’ll ride with me, and that’s the end of it.”
At Paige’s hopeful glance, Edwina forced her eyes to look away from the eager brown eyes. Accustomed to having Paige as her charge, she wanted to give in to her request. Surely the child could be placed upon her own horse, even with the casts on her legs. Edwina’s heart still hurt over the fact that Paige had been injured under her watch. She’d been on the phone when Paige had ridden her bike into the path of a car.
This was not going to be easy. Now that her father was home and they were to be a family, she knew her place. She and Alex were going to have to talk later.
“Aye, look not at Miss Blair, lass. She and I will have a talk later, and I will inform her who will be making the decisions in this castle.” He ruffled his daughter’s hair.
Edwina smiled as the child acquiesced immediately, her mind reeling at the fact that Alex seemed always to repeat her very thoughts. He dropped her hand and swung Paige from the bed and up into his arms.
“I see your teacher has been feeding you extra dishes of ice cream.”
“Aye. Do I look all right, Father?” The child peered into her father’s eyes.
Edwina held her breath hoping Alex caught her meaning. Am I beautiful to you? Heaven knows the child had reason to wonder, with her father absent for the better part of the last year.
Alex whispered something in Paige’s ear.
Edwina, satisfied with the child’s smile, followed Alex down the hall and called out, “I’ll get my boots.” Sensing that Alex and Paige needed a few moments together, she headed for her room and slowly changed into jeans and a soft beige and orange cotton shirt. The warm midsummer weather was already upon them. Her thoughts turned to her wedding dress. What would Alex want?
It would take several weeks for family to arrive and notes to be sent out, especially now that they would be wed in Scotland. Her heart took a dive thinking about all the details. She wished for a small wedding, outdoors, the wind blowing on the Scottish moors. Who was she fooling? She didn’t just want it for the character in her story—she wanted it for herself. Am I acting selfish? she wondered. Would Father and Victoria be able to travel across on such short notice?
Perhaps she and Cecelia should sit down and look at the family situation. All of a sudden Edwina, the normally detail-oriented sister, was at a loss as to how to plan her own wedding. But then, it was all new. This idea of her being married.
Edwina pushed the fearful thoughts aside and pulled on her boots. She was not going to run from this, no matter how unreal it seemed.
Chapter 3
“Spencer Hallman, stop talking down to me,” Cecelia said grumpily.
Spencer leaned his backside against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, and smiled.
“Would you stop smiling like that? You look like the cat who ate the house.”
“House? Wouldn’t that be ‘mouse,’ Miss Giatano?” Spencer’s eyes sharpened, aware that the woman was known to toss whatever she had in her hand at the moment when she was distressed.
“Oooh, you men have no idea how important a woman’s wedding is to her.” She tossed a pen his way. “Why don’t you go riding about with the rest of them so I can be left alone long enough to plan a respectable wedding for my sister who seems to have no idea what an important affair this is, especially for a Scottish laird for goodness’ sake.” She threw her hands up and was off, her black heels clicking on the wood floor. “She has no idea of the European ways,” she tossed over her shoulder.
Spencer smiled in spite of her ill temper. That woman was crazy, rich and spoiled, and beautiful and sassy all at the same time. He shrugged and pulled away from the counter. He had calls to make to his restaurant staff and escaped to the library.
An hour later he was packing. Cecelia appeared at the door of his room.
“Spencer, what are you doing? We can’t leave now!” The woman had somehow gotten wind of his plans.
“I’m leaving, Cecelia. The restaurant staff is short. Buffy the Bandit has stolen one of our employees!”
“Buffy the Bandit?”
Spencer could hardly contain himself at her confused look. Big blue eyes cast themselves on his face, and he knew he was in for a good one.
“Were you robbed?” She stalked up to him, hands at her slender waist, ready to fight for his rights.
“I was not robbed, at least not like you think.”
She stomped her foot, causing a slight bit of harm, for she winced and cried out, then leaned down to massage her ankle.
“Now what have you done? You let your temper get the best of you. Ever heard of reaping and sowing?”
“Reaping and sewing? Spencer Hallman, what has sewing got to do with anything?” She straightened, still wincing.
He ignored her question. It would take too long to explain. Cecelia was forever misinterpreting clichés.
“Try walking.” He leaned down to examine her slender ankle, but she pushed his hand away.
“Get up, I’m fine,” she fumed.
“As you wish, milady.” He bowed, his arm across his waist.
“You are avoiding my question. What has happened at Winnie’s?” Experience told him the woman would not stop yapping until she knew every detail.
“Hattie has gone off and married Duncan.”
“She’s your cook. And isn’t he your best server?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, that is a bloody mess.”
“You could say that. I need to go if you’ll move out of the way, Cecelia.” He stepped around her. “I have exactly two hours to make my flight.”
“But . . .” Her hand reached out to stop him, and landed on his arm. “You can’t go. Not now. You’ll miss the wedding.”
Spencer saw her confidence waver. “Cecelia, you will be fine. I trust you’ll work it all out.” He laid his hand over hers, and she snatched it away and gave him her back.
“Or you could come back with me and let Alex and Edwina plan their own wedding. . . .”
“Not a chance.”
Spencer shrugged. “I have to go. Kitty is a good cook, but she can’t work past three o’clock with four children to look after, which leaves her position open as well.”
Cecelia turned to face him, and her countenance firmed right before his eyes. “Then go back. You have your restaurant to look after.”
“It’s not like I have a choice. It is my bread and butter.” Unlike you, Cecelia Grace, who is spoiled with too much money and too much power.
He doubted the woman understood. Cecelia wanted what she wanted. Now. She was kind to a fault, but when you told her no, she always managed to find a way around it. This woman was his partner in business. Best to assuage her a bit.
“Will you be all right?”
“Of course I’ll be all right. I’ve been all right all these years,” she snapped.
Without you. He finished her sentence. “Right.”
“Well then?” she hesitated. Spencer knew she didn’t know what to do. She’d brought down boardrooms full of business people with her savvy arguments, which were generally correct. But when it came to anything having to do with human nature or common sense, the bird flew right over her head with no place to land.
His conscience kicked in. It was her business sense that gave him the chance to start his own restaurant. If it wasn’t for the arrangement she’d made for his restaurant and apartment on the entire second floor of her bed-and-breakfast building in downtown Chicago, he’d still be cleaning her apartment and working for peanuts. He had already paid off a sizeable chunk of his school loan.
“Stop stuffing your shirts in your suitcase like that,” she sputtered, back to her old self, and refolded them neatly. He found himself standing to the side handing her his clothes.
She was onboard now. She charged back after a weak moment so quickly that he could hardly keep up with her. If nothing else, Cecelia Grace Giatano was a strong woman.
“And who is Buffy the Bandit?”
Chapter 4
“Spencer, where are you going?” Edwina arrived in time to see him heading for the car, Reardon waiting with open door.
“I’m glad you made it back. Listen, I have to go back to the States. A rumble at the restaurant.”
“I’m so sorry. Anyone hurt?”
“No. Just me.” Spencer smiled over his glasses when he saw Edwina begin to fret. “Not to worry, it’s nothing like that. It seems that Hattie and Duncan have run off and gotten married while I was away, leaving the staff short of help.”
“Oh no.”
“I should have listened to Buffy the Bandit.”
“Buffy the Bandit?"
“That’s what I call the employee gossip. I’d heard snippets here and there, but I didn’t listen. And now you see . . . I am here in Scotland and Winnie’s is falling apart in Chicago.”
“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry.”
“It seems we have a little bird that carries about such talk, but I was too busy to notice. From now on I’m going to pay attention to employee problems before Buffy the Bandit steals any more of my people. We were short-staffed to begin with. And I let Miss Cecelia persuade me to come. . . .” He shrugged.
Edwina smiled. “So she’s got you in hand too?”
Spencer smiled that Brad Pitt smile of his and ducked into the waiting car. “Have a good wedding, Edwina, you and your knight in shining armor.”
“Thank you. And I’ll be praying that you arrive safely and every- thing works out.”
Edwina waved as Reardon negotiated the circle drive and headed for the main road. There was a definite chill in the air. She stepped inside and heard nothing, which was strange. Where were Cecelia and Bertie? Her sister and Alex’s housekeeper together were like gasoline and a lit match. Edwina picked up her pace and flew up the steps. She heard voices and walked quietly toward them.
They were in her bedroom. Edwina peeked between the small crack in the door and saw the contents of her closet splayed across the bed.
“Toss. Toss. Keep.” Cecelia was ordering Bertie with each article of clothing the older woman held up.
“Hey you two, wait just a minute. That’s my favorite skirt. And this shirt goes with my vest.”
“You’re back so soon?” Cecelia made it sound as though she was a pesky fly.
Edwina snatched her favorite skirt off the toss pile.
“How do you expect to be a laird’s wife when you dress in such things?” Cecelia verbally pounced on her. “Ed, you have to keep up appearances. That’s how I made it in business.”
“Cece, marriage is not a business. It’s . . . it’s a family,” Edwina tried to explain.
“Marriage is a business. Taxes have to be paid, papers signed, and meetings held to keep it going. Same thing.” Cecelia tossed another skirt on the growing pile.
She sounded so smug that Edwina wanted to push her out of the room. “Look, could we do this another day? I need a bath. My backside hurts from all the bouncing around and . . .
Bertie and Cecelia looked up at the same time. “Alex and I are going out to dinner this evening.” True to their nature, they both scattered. One to run the bath, the other to choose the right outfit from what was left of her closet contents. Edwina smiled. It didn’t seem to matter much these days what anyone thought about her. There was one person who thought her okay. Which, when she stopped to think about it, she really did want to please Alex.
“I have a white blouse. Basic, yet classy cut. You could wear it with this skirt if you put on pumps, Ed.” Cecelia was holding up a black dress skirt.
“Pumps? You know I don’t own any. We were thinking of a nice dinner, but not Hollywood style.”
“Do you even know what Hollywood stars wear, Ed?”
Cecelia had her there. She hadn’t been to a movie in almost a year.
“Something tells me you will need help with more than wardrobe,” Cecelia tut-tutted enjoying her moment of glory.
“Come, Edwina, your bath is ready,” Bertie called from the en suite bathroom.
“Are you on her side too?” she asked as she passed.
Bertie stuck her nose in the air. Oh boy, two of them. Would she ever have peace?
Sinking into the ancient claw-foot tub relinquished all duties at hand. Edwina eased herself into the warm, fragrant water for a good long soak. Half an hour later, she heard Bertie before she’d arrived.
“We have to dry your hair. The laird is aboot the place.”
Edwina pulled herself up and let Bertie wrap her. “Now lass, your sister has laid out your evening wear.”
“Oh boy, what has she chosen? You know if I don’t like . . .”
Edwina’s eyes widened as she came through the door. The skirt lay freshly ironed and a white blouse lay above it. “It’s beautiful.” She fingered the simple design. “I like it.”
“Best that you do,” Bertie grumped.
Edwina shot her a glance but said nothing. The towel came off, and she pulled on clean underclothes and stepped into the skirt while Bertie held up her hair.
“Sit, lass, I’ll style your hair.”
“Not too fancy, Bertie. We’re just going out to dinner.”
“Aye.” She agreed too quickly, which meant she was up to something.
“I mean it, Bertie.”
“Quiet yourself and let me work.” Cecelia was coming down the hall, her pumps clumping along the wood floors.
“Done yet?” She stood in the doorway. “Blouse looks nice.”
“Thank you, Cece, it really is nice. I like it. Where—” She stopped herself from asking where it came from. It may have cost several hundred dollars.
“Take good care of it. It’s my favorite,” Cecelia said.
“Oh no, you just blew my good intentions. I’ll be worried the entire evening, Cece.
“Stop talking, Ed. Alex is waiting below stairs. We’ve been talking for thirty minutes, waiting for you to get ready.”
A whiff of jealousy passed right by Edwina, and she felt its sting.
“I’m ready.” She stood and bent her knees to catch her image in the mirror, then got on her hands and knees to look for her shoes under the bed.
“See? What did I tell you, Bertie?” Cecelia pointed at her sister.
Edwina got up in time to see Bertie’s half smile. “She doesn’t mind, do you?” Edwina sought Bertie’s approval.
“Bertie wouldn’t tell you if she did,” Cecelia stated firmly. “The help knows their place.”
Edwina’s eyes opened wider. Had her sister really said that?
Bertie gave her a look—Edwina couldn’t distinguish whether it was bad, good, or indifferent—and walked out.
“Bertie would tell me,” she said smartly. “She has before.”
“Well, it’s not done in well-run English homes.” Cecelia stuck her nose in the air.
Edwina was glad Bertie had gone. She only hoped she hadn’t heard that last statement.
“Cece, we’re not in England, and we’re not highbrow people! Sometimes you should walk in someone else’s shoes.”
Chapter 5
Cecelia turned on her heel and started down the stairs. Edwina over- heard her sister announce that she was ready, then ask, “What time are the reservations at the restaurant?”
“Reservations?” Edwina heard Alex exclaim. “One doesna usually need reservations for fish and chips, do they?”
“Fish and chips?” Cecelia whispered incredulously.
Edwina slipped off her shoes and flew to her room on tiptoes. Off came the skirt. She carefully hung Cecelia’s white blouse on a hanger then changed into her best jeans and a short-waisted blue embroidered button-up jacket over a white shell, found her comfortable Birkenstocks buried in the closet, and put them on. That was one purchase Cecelia had been right about.
She dashed down the stairs and watched Bertie’s and Cecelia’s eyes widen at her appearance. “Ready?” She looked at Alex. “Where’s Paige?”
“She’s not coming,” Alex stated firmly as his eyes settled on her.
“Oh.” Edwina thought they would be together as a family, but her heart fluttered in excitement at his look and the idea that they would be alone.
“We’re off.” Alex grabbed her hand and made for the door. “Good night, ladies.” He called back. “Don’t wait up.”
As soon as the door shut behind them, Edwina laughed out loud. “How did you do that?”
“What?” He laughed. “So you heard?”
“Yes. They had me dressed up like a stuffed turkey ready for the Thanksgiving meal.”
“Ah, I know, my lass.” His voice was deep. Edwina shivered in the cool night.
“There’s a shawl in the front seat. Bertie insisted,” He opened the passenger door.
“Thank you. I didn’t think about anything except getting changed.” She laughed.
“How can ye think with those two afoot?” He settled into the driver’s seat.
“So you see it too?”
“That’s why I wanted to step out tonight. Get away from everyone so we can talk about Paige and where we will live . . . and the wedding.” His voice had grown serious.
Edwina nodded and was quiet as she gazed out the window. This was still so new and fresh. She wondered if it were a dream that she would soon wake up from. But no, this was real, for the wind was blowing the tall grasses over like a concert. Back and forth they went, dancing to the slow beat of God’s unheard music on these green, green hills.
Alex was quiet too as darkness began to settle over them. He was driving in new territory, and Edwina wondered where they were going, but had no desire to ask.
After a time he pulled into a parking lot, and lights were flashing. She ducked her head to read the sign above. Fienie’s Fish & Chips. “It looks like an out-of-the-way place.”
“I chose it so we could talk undisturbed.”
Edwina gazed at him. His shoulders seemed tense. “We’ll find a quiet corner.”
“Aye,” he agreed. They walked in, and the place was a veritable party. Teens had taken over the small shop, some tossing chips, others slurping their drinks, all shouting and boisterous. Chairs dragged across the black-and-white tiles, squealing as they went.
Edwina pulled on Alex’s hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” “Ye don’t mind?” “Of course not. We’ll find another place,” she assured him. The door closed behind them and shut out all the noise. He drove several miles, and it seemed they would not find anything quiet, so he headed into Edinburgh to the Pop & Top where they’d eaten before. He pulled up, and they entered. The place was empty except for one couple. Alex headed for the table where he’d first proposed the idea of Edwina staying behind as Paige’s teacher. It seemed an age ago.
He smiled as he pulled out the chair, and Edwina’s heart did flip- flops. “Remember?”
She nodded, blushing.
Alex ordered at the counter, then returned with a number. While they waited, he pulled off his jacket and arranged it on the back of the chair. Same as before. Only this time it was not a suit jacket, it was worn brown leather. He was dressed in a casual shirt, open at the neck, and jeans.
He ran his fingers through his dark hair and mussed it. She wanted to reach over and fix it. She knew she could, but chose to see him like that. Not so perfect. When the number was called, he jumped up and came back with a loaded tray. “Thought you might enjoy a quiet night out.”
“Oh goodness, yes. I am beginning to think the entire family is going to be upset with every decision we make. And I don’t want that,” she added softly.
“Lass, the wedding is ours, not theirs.”
Edwina’s heart skipped a beat as she watched his strong, and very tan hands, arrange the food containers and set the tray aside.
“What I’m wanting is time to catch up. I’ve missed so much . . . especially with Paige.” His voice dropped low.
“I know. It must have been difficult to leave so often and not know if you were going to lose her, . . .” Edwina couldn’t utter another word.
“Ah, lass. It is past now. Elizabeth’s father is in financial straits because of all the uncouth tricks he used. Others are now coming forward with their accusations and are not afraid to call him out. His lawyers will be busy.”
“Too bad. For everyone.” Edwina kept her hands in her lap. They had never prayed together before, so she shut her eyes for a moment and bowed her head.
Alex waited.
“Do ye believe God cares about little things?” He picked up his fork. Handsome green eyes searched hers.
“Oh yes. I do. Do you?”
He shrugged. “I used to. I guess losing Elizabeth and nearly losing Paige changed my outlook for a while. I was bitter.”
“I can see why you were.”
“Can you?” He looked up.
“Yes,” she said softly, then pushed her jacket sleeves up and dug into her food, noting Alex’s smile. “Bertie said you raise potatoes.”
“At my instructions. We had to list employment on all my applications with the attorneys, so I listed meself as a potato farmer.”
“So what do you do then?” His face relaxed, then she saw a light come into his eyes. He was up to something.
“Nothing at the moment. My father left me with sufficient capital, but I’ve spent most of it on solicitors. I will have to find a vocation soon enough. My degree is in finance, but I’m thinkin’ I may want to raise potatoes after all.”
He paused for a bite.
“That is one of the reasons I wanted to get some time alone. I find myself wanting to live at the cottage after we are wed.”
Edwina nodded and waited. “Do ye disapprove?”
“No, it doesn’t matter to me.” A smile of relief relaxed his features.
“Ah, so Cecelia has not convinced her sister to desire the good things of life,” he teased.
“The good things of life are not the same for Cecelia as for me.”
“As I expected, lass.” He was serious with both voice and eyes. Edwina felt her face flush again. When would she stop turning ten shades of red around this man?
“What shall I do there at the cottage – besides raising potatoes?” he asked. At first she thought him joking, but he was serious. She took another bite to gain some time, hating to answer something of such importance on the fly.
“Well, what do you want to do?”
She continued to eat and watch the emotions play over his face. He hesitated.
“What is it? You can be honest with me.”
“Ye detect my ambivalence, lass.” Edwina laid her fork aside and folded her hands in her lap.
“I’d be hoping we would have sons, several of them.” He added, “If you agree.” There she went again. Face red and splotchy, no doubt. She had not expected that “vocation.”
“Ah, um, if you wish.” She stared at her hands twisted in her lap.
“Look at me, lass.” He reached across the table and lifted her chin, forcing eye contact. “Tell me what ye are thinking.”
“I don’t mind at all . . . having children . . . in fact, I never thought I’d marry, so I did not dare to . . . to . . .dream.” Alex noted her breathless, sweet apprehension.
“Well lass I want to have them right away. Paige is five years of age, and if we are having several, it might be good to get started.”
Edwina wanted to tell him to stop talking. She knew she was acting foolish, but did he know she had no experience whatsoever? He’d had a woman he adored, a loving marriage, and a child . . . all experiences she knew nothing about. Maybe she was a fool to think she could step into Elizabeth’s shoes.
“Lass, your mind is working again.”
“I’m . . . I’m not sure if I . . .” Alex dropped his hand, and immediately Edwina regretted her words.
“Lass, I am not here to be yer father. Ye may make decisions I’ll not like. We’ll fight it out in my Scottish way and make up later.” He winked.
Edwina felt a new flush of color rushing to her face.
“Ye are a woman. And ye’ve made some decisions on your own. I have seen ye change. I am asking if ye want children soon after we’re married and if ye’d like to raise them at the cottage.”
“Yes . . . to both,” she blurted out.
Chapter 6
Within minutes of her declaration, Edwina was having a case of nerves. “Lass, ye have left the planet.” Alex’s deep voice jerked her back into reality.
Edwina garnered her thoughts. “I’m sorry. I. . .”
She noted his full-faced smile. Now that he was free of his burdens, this Scot was going to be a handful. Her heart skittered in excitement as the ring of his cell phone cut the conversation.
“Excuse me.” He rose from his seat, walked several steps off, and answered.
At his distance, she found herself pulling in deep breaths and letting them out slowly. They’d rarely had time alone. Thoughts of running home to Michigan zipped through her mind.
“Nothing to be concerned about,” Alex said when he returned. “Are ye finished?”
After her nod, he cleared the table. Edwina smiled as he worked.
“Ye smile lass.” He pulled her up with his hand in hers. “Come, the household awaits our return, I’m certain. Bertie will not sleep until you are safely in your bed.”
Edwina laughed. “I feel like they’re watching us all the time. Cecelia will do her best to pull off a highbrow wedding, you know.”
The Scot smiled, a gleam in his eye.
She started for the passenger side and waited for Alex to open the door when she found herself not inside, but with her back pressed against the door, his arms on either side of her. “Lass, we have not had enough of this.”
He lowered his head and kissed her silly. Her thoughts scattered as he gently held her, his arms now wrapped around her middle. So this is what it would be like.
“Lass, we’d best set the wedding date soon. . . .”
* * *
“Edwina, is that you?” Cecelia called from her bedroom.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Can I come in, Cece?”
“Of course. I’ve been waiting up for you and Alex to get back. I have a list. . . .”
“Oh, Cecelia. I—I can’t believe it.” She sighed, kicked off her shoes, and using the step, fell across the bed.
Cecelia smiled. “He’s kissed you witless, hasn’t he?” Edwina stared.
“How’d you know?”
“Well, believe it or not, I have had some pretty handsome men in my life too, you know!”
“I know. I just never thought it would be me, that’s all.” Edwina turned on her side and curved her body into a pillow.
“Why not you, Ed?” Her practical sister broke into her romantic bubble. Edwina shrugged, unable to find the words to explain, so she changed the topic.
“You’re used to having men about you all the time.”
“Men use me.”
“What do you mean?” Edwina sat straight up and stared at Cecelia.
“Not like that.” She tapped Edwina’s arm. “It’s just that men see me as a means to their end. I’ve learned to put up walls.”
“Walls?”
“Of course. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to engage in a simple conversation with a man when some woman, fiancée, or wife came up and gave me the evil eye.”
Edwina relaxed, and her mind worked. “It’s not easy being beautiful, rich and talented is it?” she said, amazed at her own words.
“Not exactly,” Cecelia admitted. “But I’m used to it. I can hold my own. I saw the way my actress mother handled her admirers. Her stage persona was much different than the real person.”
Edwina grabbed another pillow and found a comfortable position. “Tell me what it was like to grow up with your mother and father.”
“Well, I grew up quickly, I do remember that. Beauty requires it, you know. I learned early on to keep men at bay, even as a young girl. My father was rarely around, and when he was, he was usually entertaining some young female behind my mother’s back and I never had the fortitude to tell her.”
Edwina felt her sister’s pain.
“I learned to hide secrets and keep marching, no matter what happened. In the end, I guess it has served me well. Look at all that I have.” Cecelia waved her arm in an arc.
Edwina felt the injustice. “You have done very well, Cece. I’m proud of you. I know it hasn’t been easy, especially when your father died and left you no inheritance.”
“He may have done me a courtesy. It made me realize I had to take care of myself and not depend on anyone. No man can guarantee a safe life. I have to do it my way.”
Edwina nodded, thinking. “Do you want to marry, have children some day, Cece?”
Her sister shrugged. “Right now, no. I have too much to do. With the new building, I have to make a profit before I’ll rest. Even then . . .” She fell silent.
“Spencer’s restaurant is doing well, right? I mean, I know he has staff trouble right now, but do you think he’ll make it?”
“Oh yes, Spencer has the gift.”
“The gift?”
“Yes, you know—people skills. He knows how to handle difficult situations on the everyday, long-term level. Me, I can’t stand slow- thinking, slow-moving people. I have to be in the middle of the fray to start some new enterprise, and once it’s up and running, I’m on the road looking for a completely new adventure.”
“Yes, that describes you well.” Edwina laughed. “But, sis, do you want to be an entrepreneur all your life? I mean, would you like to settle down with someone or is that totally out of the picture?”
“Not totally,” Cecelia admitted. “But there are some things I want to do.”
“Like what?” Edwina noted the faraway look in her sister’s soft blue eyes.
“Well, do you remember that huge Victorian at the corner of Washington and Squire? It’s the one with the copper-roofed spire. I want that for a bed-and-breakfast. It’s trashed at the moment, but I think I could bring it back to its original regal state. My English background helps.” She smiled.
Edwina laughed aloud. “Goodness, you already have a plan, don’t you? And I know nothing will stop you.”
Cecelia’s eyes gleamed at the prospect. “So, enough small talk. Tell me about your evening, Ed.”
Edwina changed positions and murmured, “We ate at the Pop & Top. They serve the best fish and chips. We’d been there one other time, when Alex asked me to stay the first time.”
Cecelia nodded, her fingers tapping her lips.
“He . . . I’m just so surprised. . . .” Edwina’s voice faded away.
“What? That somebody loves you, Ed?”
“Well, in a way. I think I built a wall so if I didn’t find anyone . . .”
“I know. Come, let’s talk about the wedding. I have a lot to do tomorrow and with Spencer gone, I’ll have to check into your food menu. And the photographer, if you can even find one at this late date.”
Edwina paused, seeking words that would prepare Cecelia. “Cece . . . I don’t want a fancy wedding. Alex doesn’t either."
“Edwina Emily Blair, this is your wedding day. Not some fly-by-day affair.”
“It’s fly-by-night, Cece.”
“Whatever.”
Edwina saw her sister’s hands flying. “You’re marrying a laird, for goodness’ sake. His people will expect it.” When Edwina thought she saw tears gathering in her sister’s eyes,she acquiesced immediately.
“You’re right. What are your thoughts?” Edwina watched her sister struggle to recover. “Well, now that I have your attention, I’m thinking that you should find a huge, ancient church in Edinburgh, enough to seat Alex’s family. You’ll want a beautiful backdrop for your dress and your photos. And we’ll need time to get Mother and Father here.”
Edwina listened for ten minutes as her stomach churned.
“So what do you think?” Cece turned to her, excited.
“Do you really want to know?” Edwina’s voice was low. “I mean really, Cece?” Edwina flipped onto her stomach and propped her chin up with both fists.
Cecelia shrugged. But Edwina could see disappointment displayed across her face.
“Alex wants to marry soon – without publicity, especially in light of the fact he’s just gotten Paige safely through an ordeal the child knows nothing about.”
Edwina knew Paige’s grandfather had groomed his only daughter, Elizabeth from the beginning to take over his position in his billion- dollar tobacco business, effectively securing his own seat. But Elizabeth had wanted her own life. Her father’s plan was to prepare Paige, his granddaughter, for the position Elizabeth had so foolishly tossed off by marrying Alex Dunnegin. And then Paige’s mother had died. Alex had fought to keep Paige from being taken by her rich grandfather, but it had cost him a small fortune.
“Paige has rarely been out, and, well, we think it’s best if we just have the wedding here. At the castle, perhaps, weather permitting, on the hills.” She waited for Cecelia’s look of despair.
“I see.” Cecelia whispered.
“I don’t want to hurt your feelings—really. It’s just that . . .”
“Ed, you don’t have to explain. I get it. If that’s what you want, then do it.” Edwina jumped up to her knees and caught her eyes.
“Do you mean that?”
“Of course I do. Once I make up my mind.” Edwina threw herself at her sister. “Thanks. I love you, Cece.”
“You’re mussing my hair. Now go to your own room. I have a new list to write out—especially if you two decide out of doors is going to be your church. If the weather is bad, you’ll regret it. Most importantly”— Cecelia’s mind was working again—“is what date have you chosen?”
“We don’t have a date yet. He did say”—Edwina paused—“that he wanted it to be soon.”
Cecelia laughed out loud. “Of course he does. Now scoot. Go on, get out of here. I’ll work on some ideas.”
Edwina slid off the bed, forgot all about her shoes, and tiptoed to her room to be alone with her thoughts.
Chapter 7
“What do you mean it’s not for sale? It was when I left.” Cecelia was on her cell talking in the hallway outside her door.
Edwina peeped through one eye to check the clock. It was eight a.m. “Tell them to put a bid on it. Today. Add twenty thousand to the top bid and get that house,” Cecelia ordered. Edwina heard Bertie’s footsteps. For the life of her, she had fallen into the pattern and loved to see Bertie in the mornings. The noises about the castle today were loud. She heard Paige calling her father. Whenever he stayed over he slept below stairs next to his office.
Alex dashed up the stairs, two at a time. His little girl needed help getting out of bed, and her papa was the only one allowed to perform that task if he was in the castle.
Bertie found Edwina sitting up, the covers up to her chin, smiling.
“Lass, be aboot getting your feet on the floor. There’s much to be done.” Bertie stopped and stared at her. “What’s that look on yer face, lass?” Her hands were on her hips.
“What look?” Edwina couldn’t stop the smile. Bertie grabbed the cherry pink towel and shook it out, looking away.
“Come lass, ye haven’t got all the day. Laird Dunnegin has been waiting on ye.”
“He has?” Edwina flew out of the bed.
“Aye. And patient ’e’s been too.” Bertie had the tub faucets running at full throttle.
“Do you like my hair?” Edwina asked as she swiped the steam off the mirror.
“Aye, well enough,” she mumbled. “What will ye wear today, miss?”
“I’ll dress myself, you can go to Paige.” She waved her hand. “And let you dawdle?” The woman’s hands were on her hips again.
“Okay, my jeans, the washed-out ones. And that blue shirt you like so much. Nothing fancy. It’s Saturday.”
Bertie laid out her clothes and was off. Edwina was glad to soak in peace.
Some time later, noises in the hallway alerted her. That was the sound of Cecelia’s luggage wheels rumbling over the ancient wood slats. What was that about?
Hurriedly, she dressed and ran a comb through her hair. It was easy enough. She’d had it layered, and it held its shape better.
Edwina leaned over the staircase, her hair dripping. “Cece, where are you going?” Dressed in a black skirt with a pristine white shell, black jacket over her arm, and her hair pulled up, her sister was on a mission. Especially with her three-inch black Dior heels. Reardon appeared at her service and stowed her luggage.
“Well, you’re finally up. I’ve been making enough noise, hoping to see you before I left. I’m off to the States. The Victorian is suddenly taking bids, and I want that house. My agent tells me I’m in a bidding war against that old Mrs. King. Again,” Cecelia called over her shoulder as she dug in her bag. “I’ve called for a standby seat, so I need to get to Edinburgh. Reardon will see me to the airport. Meantime, Ed, don’t do anything. I’ll be back in a few days.”
Edwina ran down the stairs, still barefoot, and caught up with her. “Don’t be gone long, okay? I want you here.” Suddenly her eyes teared up.
“What? You think I’d miss your wedding, Ed?”
Edwina shook her head. “Of course not. Just be safe and call me when you get home, okay?”
“I will. Not to worry. Call Mother and Father, will you? I won’t have time. Especially if your knight can’t wait,” she teased.
Edwina’s face warmed. “It’s not that . . .” Her voice faltered.
“Then what is it, Ed?” Cecelia slipped on her jacket and pulled her sister close.
Not a single word formed itself in Edwina’s brain.
“That’s what I thought.” Cecelia winked and followed Reardon out the door.
“Good morning.”
Alex Dunnegin’s voice would forever cause her heart to beat too fast. Edwina dabbed her eyes and turned to the man she was going to marry.
“Cecelia is off to the States?”
“Business.” Edwina shrugged, wondering if she looked all right.
“Jeans, ’ey? You up for a ride this morn? Paige is in the kitchen with her breakfast, but she’s squirming to get outdoors. The sun is warm today.” His six-foot frame stood inches above her five-foot-six one. “Y’er hair will dry in the wind.” He fingered her wet hair.
“Sounds great.” Her voice soft at his touch. Paige called from the kitchen. Alex winked and headed there. Even though her thighs were still screaming from the last ride, she had enjoyed the rocky pathways as they meandered through the green countryside. The stream near the cottage was her favorite place to stop and water the horses. Not to mention the fact that ingrained in her brain was the picture-perfect view as they gazed on the sun-sparkled waters gushing over the rocks, then slowly winding away through the low hills.
The idea of living in the cottage with the stream close enough to walk to brought more threats of tears. What good thing in this world have I done to deserve this? she wondered. Lord, thank you for everything, for Paige, for Alex, for this land.
“Lass?” Edwina turned, her heart pounding at the way he called her lass. “Paige is calling ye. I’ll go out and saddle the horses while ye get ready.” Edwina hurried to the kitchen to find Paige seated on a chair with a stack of books beneath her.
“Are you all right?” Edwina worried about her legs still in casts.
“I’m fine. I don’t like sitting on pillows. Are we riding today?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “Are you up to it?”
“Aye, and I want to see Silsee too.” Edwina learned that five-year-old Paige was quite firm in her intentions and knew she would have to swerve around the little gal’s determinations. “Does your father say it’s all right?”
“Father has promised to take me down to the barn when we return.”
It would be good for her to see her lamb. Edwina loved her happy voice. She thought perhaps they might lose the closeness they’d shared now that her father was home, and Edwina knew they would have to work on that. She’d find a good book about parenting and read up on it.
Chapter 8
Cecelia tapped her perfectly manicured fingernails on the airport counter. “I’m flying standby, but if you can get me into first-class I’d be willing to pay premium price,” she said.
Cecelia turned slightly and noticed the man standing behind her. He was tall, dark, and wearing Armani. She’d know that label anywhere. Dark brown eyes in a tan face added to her view, and she looked away. When she glanced at him again, those dark chocolate eyes were gazing into hers.
“Business?” he asked.
“Yes, in Chicago. Rather a hurried situation, I’m afraid.” She felt pulled into the man’s presence as though they were the only two people in the airport.
“I see.” He checked his watch and paused to reach for something in his jacket pocket.
Cecelia turned her chin upward a tiny bit and wondered if her hair looked halfway decent. Apparently it did, for the man, who seemed preoccupied a moment ago, now held out a boarding pass.
“What’s this?”
“A seat in first-class. My business associate was to fly back with me but has been detained. I will inquire at the desk to see if you can have the seat.”
She wanted to flutter about and make some sort of brilliant comment, but not a word came from her mouth except, “Thank you.”
He motioned for the attendant’s attention.
She listened as his deep voice stated that he had a first-class boarding pass and might the woman standing here have that seat. He spoke as one who was accustomed to being heard and deferred to. She knew that kind of man. Her heart did a silly flip-flop.
“I will check and call your name in a few minutes.”
Cecelia turned to thank the man, but he was gone. She forced herself not to look around, but walked directly back to her seat and pulled out a magazine. It took every bit of professionalism she had learned not to seek the man out. Obviously he wished to stay incognito, which only warmed her blood more.
An agonizing twenty minutes later her name was called. She stepped up and found the man waiting. “It is taken care of. Seat 2B.” He handed the adjusted boarding ticket to her. The woman behind the counter smiled at them.
“Thank you.” She squared her shoulders, remembering her mother’s words before walking onto the stage. Wow them! Cecelia felt she was on the stage and played the part exceedingly well. The man slipped his pass into his jacket pocket and with a slight smile, departed. Cecelia released her breath. How long had it been since Cecelia Grace Giatano had been breathless? She didn’t have a clue.
She walked back to her seat and waited to board.
Suddenly she realized her thirtieth birthday was just a month away; it was time she made some sort of arrangement to start her life. Funny, but she hadn’t desired anything like that until now. Why was that? She knew instantly. Watching Alex and Edwina interact, sharing secret looks, whispering, and trying to get time alone . . . that was it. And she hadn’t been kissed silly in . . . sadly, she couldn’t remember when.
Spencer had shot out of there too. She wondered if there was a real emergency at the restaurant or if he had scooted out so he wouldn’t have to see Edwina in love. She may be busy, but she wasn’t blind. She knew Edwina and Spencer had shared a kiss.
But there hadn’t been time for Spencer to know Ed. Funny how events and circumstances shot people into your life like a cannonball and next thing you know they were shot back out again to some other part of the world.
She heard her name being called over the PA. “You’re set for first- class boarding Miss Giatano, thanks to the gentleman.”
She grabbed her carry-on and shook the cobwebs from her brain. She needed to focus. That Victorian would not stay on the market long, especially since Mrs. Quentin King had heard about it. That woman was a thorn in her skin. Anytime she heard that Cecelia was interested in a building, she was right there bidding against her.
Cecelia knew why. The woman thought her husband had a thing for her. Nothing could be further from the truth. Mr. King had a thing for every blonde that walked past him. Cecelia felt a stab of pity for Mrs. King, then remembered her purpose and walked faster.
She thanked the woman and hooked the handles of her carry-on over her shoulder. She was on a mission. Her Dior’s clicked on the runway as she hustled to the plane.
After settling her bag in the overhead compartment, she took her seat, grateful to be on the flight. And first class was a bonus. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them she would see the handsome stranger.
When she did open her eyes, she checked her watch and gasped. Nearly an hour had passed.
“The princess must have slept on a mattress without a pea beneath it.” He smiled at her.
“Evan Wyndham.”
“Cecelia Giatano.” She nodded. She wanted to make some professional crack about fairy tales but nothing came to mind, so she reached for her purse at her feet where she’d stowed it before takeoff. She had never missed a takeoff in her life.
Sleeping. And with the handsome stranger next to her and no doubt watching. She hoped above all things that she hadn’t let her mouth drop open—or worse.
“Did I snore?” She felt like a schoolgirl on a first date.
“No. But your head did fall on my shoulder.” Cecelia’s eyes widened. He looked amused. Should she apologize or let it go? She decided on the latter and took out her calendar and made a notation to keep her eyes averted until she could recover. What possessed her to ask him if she snored? That was the most humiliating comment she could have made.
By the time she had the courage to look his way, he was already interested in a magazine. She peeked. Entrepreneur. She wondered what business he worked in.
Half an hour later, he stood and reached above in the compartment and brought down a small notebook and made notations, then tucked it in his side pocket. As he did, he jostled her elbow and knocked the pen from her hand.
“I’ll get it.” He unbuckled and retrieved the pen.
Their hands touched, and Cecelia checked his left ring finger. Empty.
“So, what is your business?” She’d barely formed the words in her head before they’d popped out of her mouth.
“Publishing.”
“I see.” She nodded sagely, knowing that less was more, and waited for him to continue.
“And you?” he asked, turning toward her slightly.
“I buy buildings and turn them into B & B’s or condominium units in downtown Chicago.”
“Interesting.”
He was a man of few words, she decided and thought it best to play along. She knew these types. They were self-made men who needed nothing from the rest of the world. They had it all. His quiet, reserved manner intrigued her.
“Yes it is.” She reached for her bag and pulled out a magazine. Business Week. She would let him know that she too was savvy and his equal. She crossed her slender legs and modestly pushed her black skirt over her knees.
He did not speak for an hour. She read her magazine, which was three months old. Bored after she’d paged through it twice, she put it away and folded her hands in her lap. Should she offer her business card? Ask for his?
She loved his profile, having several opportunities to study his features when the flight attendant checked on them. Thick dark hair, dark eyes. She suspected Italian or perhaps Brazilian background. His well- manicured hands were tan like his face. That meant he’d probably been to the islands on a vacation recently.
Musing, she didn’t hear him speak the first time and leaned closer. “I’m sorry?” she said and waited for him to repeat.
“May I order you a drink? It is Miss Giatano?”
“Yes, it is.” Cecelia ordered a daiquiri. Immediately she felt the doors open. Drinks in hand, they began tosocialize the same way they would if at a business luncheon.
“So what is the name of your company, Mr. Wyndham?” Cecelia turned slightly.
“White Gate Publishing.” She nodded.
“And yours?”
“Cecelia’s Place.”
“That would be on Michigan Street. The blue and gold awning.”
“Why, yes. You know it then?”
“We’ve had several business luncheons at Winnie’s.”
Cecelia smiled. “And did you find the service acceptable?”