Kathryn Jensen - The Earl's Secret

“Looks like you’ll have some time to fill before turning in,” Christopher said after Jennifer bade her crew a good evening.

“Yes,” she said. “But I need to check in with my mother and pack for London.”

“I see.” So tomorrow she would indeed be gone. He sighed inwardly. In the little time he’d spent with her, she’d been good for him. When he was with her, his thoughts seemed lighter, the day somehow brighter, more tolerable. He dwelled less on his mistakes. Or maybe that was all romantic hogwash, and he just wanted to sleep with her. A good dose of lust definitely took a man’s mind off his troubles.

“Thank you for all you’ve done,” she murmured, laying her hand on his arm, making him even more aware of the sweet scent wafting up from her skin. She stood close to him. So close he could easily slip his arm around her waist and pull her against him. Right here in the lobby. Why not? “Everyone has said,” she continued breezily, “what a wonderful treat it has been, your taking us around today.”

He forced out the correct, civil words and even gave her a polite smile. “No trouble at all. I enjoyed myself.”

She beamed up at him in appreciation, and he thought he had never liked green eyes as much as he did now. “Yesterday…I was serious about my invitation. If you ever do come to America, and you’re near Baltimore—”

“It’s unlikely,” he said, interrupting. “You can do me another favor, though.” He hadn’t thought through his words. They simply arrived on his lips, and he had no power to stop them.

“Anything,” she said. “What is it?”

“You wouldn’t have dinner with me last night. What about tonight?”

She blinked thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I should.”

“Why not? You’re free for the night. You need to eat, don’t you? I know all the best places in Edinburgh.”

“But—”

“You’re leaving tomorrow. I’m not asking for a lifetime commitment.” Lust was a charmer, he was. The muscles in his shoulders and back tensed as he waited for her answer. Don’t say no…don’t say no! a voice chanted from inside of him. “I’m harmless,” he added, flashing her a deliberately wolfish grin.

She laughed out loud. “I’m not sure of that part.” Still, she hesitated. “Listen, I don’t know any tactful way of asking this, but… Are you attached in any way?”

He chuckled. “You mean married? Good Lord, no.”

“I meant…seeing anyone.”

“No. Although I do keep the phone numbers of a few ladies who graciously accompany me on social occasions. Would you like references from them?”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just, you never said and—” she shrugged, looking prettily flustered. “Yes, I’ll have dinner with you. You pick a good place to eat.”

“I know the perfect one,” he said.

Two hours later Jennifer was certain she’d made a mistake when Christopher pulled his car off the A7 and onto an unpaved road that looked suspiciously like the one leading to Donan. “I thought we were going to your favorite restaurant.”

“My favorite place to eat isn’t a restaurant.”

“You can cook?” she asked.

“No,” he admitted. “I have a wonderful woman who prepares my meals. When I was given a choice of the family’s estates as part of my inheritance, I chose Donan. Half the castle was in ruins, as it still is, the other half hadn’t been occupied in years and was in need of serious renovation. But I wanted it, and the Clarks, who had been with my father for years in Sussex, have kin in the area and were eager to take it on for me.”

“You’re lucky you can run your business from a place like this.”

“Yes,” he said quickly.

Having already seen the first floor, she knew the way to the dining room and turned in that direction as they passed through the great hall.

Christopher touched her on the arm. “Hold on a moment. Let me check with Mrs. Clark to see how close our dinner is to being ready.”

Jennifer wandered into a side room and contentedly browsed along the dark-paneled walls. When she had been here with her group, Christopher had pointed out one of Alexander Nasmyth’s oils of a Borders landscape. The mist-enshrouded body of water in the center looked a lot like nearby Loch Kerr. Then there were two portraits that appeared somewhat older, in the opulent style of John Wright, though she was no expert on seventeenth-century art. For all she knew they might actually be Wrights—in which case they’d each be worth a small fortune.

She followed a narrowing corridor and found a canvas whose artist she was sure of—one of her favorite painters, Anne MacBeth. Anne had been a member of the so-called Glasgow Girls, at the turn of the previous century, who had rocked the art world with their daring experiments combining art nouveau and Celtic influences. Jennifer was delighted. Either Christopher or someone in his family was a serious collector of female artists as well as the established masters.

Christopher returned, smiling when he found her in front of another MacBeth painting. “We can sit down now. It’s ready.” He stood behind her and rested his wide hands on her shoulders when she lingered just a moment longer in front of the painting. Jennifer felt comfortable beneath his steady palms. “I was going to take you around the rest of the castle, if you’d like, but since the meal is hot and you’re hungry…”

“I am famished,” she admitted. “But I’m curious about the upper floors. I would love a tour after dinner.” She wondered what other treasures might be hiding in dim corners or forgotten rooms, waiting to be brought out into the light.

They ate wild duck, prepared with a deep red Burgundy sauce she would have thought a more likely match for beef. It was a surprisingly delicious combination. They drank a local wildflower wine from Cairn O’Mohr, which seemed perfect with the meal. She had never eaten game before. At home, everything in her fridge came from the supermarket, and most of that was in the form of frozen commercial dinners. She favored quick-and-easy, low-fat meals. Tonight the textures and colors on her plate resembled an artist’s palette, and the flavors were amazing. She savored every bite.

“I must tell Mrs. Clark how wonderful a cook she is.”

“I’m afraid she’s left for the day,” he said. “I told her I’d wash up after we finished eating. It didn’t seem fair to make her stay while we indulged ourselves in a leisurely meal.”

Jennifer smiled. “That was nice of you.” She caught a mysterious twinkle in his eyes and wondered if his motives for dismissing the woman were all that pure. Sending the staff home to leave their master alone in the castle with a female guest…this had all the makings of a classic seduction. She wasn’t sure whether she was more nervous or excited at the prospect.

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