In Your Wildest Scottish Dreams Read Free Page B

Nothing about Scotland pleased her, from the food to the weather to the way the Scots spoke.
    Lennox recognized her contempt for Scotland. It was similar to the derision the English had displayedtoward his country for centuries. He could understand his ancestors’ irritation and desire to go to battle. He felt the same every evening after dinner.
    He took Whittaker to the shipyards with him each morning. To his surprise, the man gave him good advice on the changes on the Raven , plus he had ideas worth exploring on future blockade runners.
    As for Lucy, he tried to avoid her when he could. Perhaps Eleanor MacIain might be persuaded to take the woman under her wing, show her Glasgow and find something to keep her occupied.
    Only fourteen days separated him from peace. In two weeks Gavin would sail off with his English bride and a skeleton crew for Nassau. He could survive anything for two weeks.
    “He’s very tired,” Mary said at his elbow.
    He glanced down at his sister. She worried him, and had ever since their father’s accident. Stress pinched her features and changed the whites of her green eyes to gray. Her black hair appeared dull and her expression listless. Despite being a young woman, she behaved like someone tired of the world.
    She acted more the widow than Glynis, a thought jarring him into violating the privacy each accorded the other.
    “Are you feeling ill, Mary?”
    She blinked up at him, obviously surprised at the question.
    “Is there something wrong you haven’t told me?”
    She opened her mouth to speak, shut it again, then shook her head.
    “Are you certain?”
    “Yes,” she said.
    Her tremulous smile was no doubt meant to reassure him, but failed.
    “See to Father,” she said before he could question her further. “He should rest.”
    An answer, then, and the only one he suspected he would get.
    He glanced over at William. Although he smiled at his well-wishers, fatigue etched his face.
    After making his way to his father’s side, he bent down and whispered, “Are you ready for me to banish all of them, Father?”
    William’s smile deepened the vertical lines bracketing his mouth.
    “Not yet, my boy,” he said, his sightless green eyes staring out over the ballroom as if he could see the line of people waiting to greet him. “A man can’t have too much admiration, do you think?”
    Lennox clasped the older man on the shoulder, a little alarmed when he felt bone where there should be muscle. He smiled and moved away, determined to talk to Mary about taking their father to Rothesay on the Isle of Bute. The hydrotherapy retreat would do them both good.
    “You throw quite a shindig, Lennox.”
    He turned. Gavin stood there, a full plate of food in one hand, a cup of punch in the other, and the ubiquitous walking stick on his arm.
    “You should at least try some of the salmon,” Gavin said, thrusting it at him. “Avoid the haggis.”
    Lennox held up his hand to block the plate. “Thank you, no.”
    “I tried to interest Lucy in the food, but she’s not hungry, poor darling.”
    Whittaker motioned to the opposite side of the ballroom where a series of couches were arranged for the convenience of the older guests. “I thought she would be happy talking to the other women over there, butshe’s a shy little thing and all these people are overwhelming. I think she’s gone back to our room.”
    At least she wouldn’t be insulting the guests here to honor his father.
    Lennox glanced around the room, caught sight of his best friend and excused himself.
    The shoulders beneath Duncan’s black evening attire were tense, his nervous energy expressed in the tapping of a shoe on the ballroom floor.
    Lennox moved toward him, accepting well wishes, answering questions, smiling and thanking his guests as he made his way to Duncan’s side.
    “Is it going that bad?” he asked, reaching his friend.
    “As bad as it can be,” Duncan said, spearing a hand through his hair.
    His features were