“I know we’ve never met before, but there is something familiar about you,” he said slowly. “One doesn’t often see hair so black paired with those eyes. I just can’t place where I’ve seen your face.”
My bones ached, and I couldn’t feel my hands. It was time for a bold step, even if it was out of character. “If you don’t mind,” I said politely, “I’d really like to get out of the cold. It’s freezing out here, and tea sounds wonderful.”
He smiled, and I forgot to breathe. The pain of my divorce was very far away. “Have you tasted raspberry scones, Miss Murray?”
An hour later he watched as I worked my way through my third buttery scone piled high with cream and raspberry jam. The waitress paused by our table. “Anything else today?”
Ian shook his head and grinned. “Not for me, thanks.” He motioned toward my plate. “The lady might like something else. She has an unusually healthy appetite.”
I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“Do you always eat as if there were no tomorrow?” he teased.
“I was hungry.”
“To say the least.” He laughed. “I would never have believed it if I hadn’t watched you fill that plate twice. You might have warned me before I offered to pay.”
At a loss for words, I wiped my mouth and crumbled the napkin on my plate. “Thank you for the tea,” I managed. “Everything was delicious.” I leaned forward, chin in my hand, and took a deep breath. If I didn’t ask, I’d never know. “Will you please explain to me why you were surprised when I told you my name?”
He studied me carefully. “You mean you really don’t know?” he asked at last.
“No.”
“It appears, Miss Murray, that the late Lord Maxwell left Traquair House to you.”
I felt cold all over again as if I had never eaten the sweet desserts nor drunk copious amounts of sustaining tea. “You must be mistaken,” I whispered. “I don’t even know the Maxwells.”
“That’s a bit unusual, isn’t it, considering your background?”
“What do you know about me?”
Ian frowned. “Ellen Maxwell hasn’t been an invalid forever. Once she was an active woman with friends throughout the entire valley. Everyone knew her quite well. When the terms of her husband’s will were revealed, she was curious enough about you to do some investigating of her own. After all, it’s a bit unusual for a man to leave everything to a child he’s never seen. People gossip.”
Suddenly I realized what he was implying. I was furious. My voice sounded thin and tight. “I’d like to go home now.”
“Back to Traquair or to Boston?”
Without a word, I walked out of the restaurant. Ian caught up with me near the car. “I’m sorry, Christina. I didn’t mean to offend you. Of course, none of this is your fault.”
I pulled away, opened the door, and slid into the passenger seat.
We were nearly at the gates of Traquair when I couldn’t stand it any longer. Of course, I believed the whole thing was a misunderstanding that could be chalked up to a case of mistaken identity, but it wasn’t in my nature to speculate when I could know for sure. “Where do you fit into this, Ian? Is it just my imagination, or does the idea of someone inheriting Traquair bother you more than it should?”
A thin, white line appeared around his mouth. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s nothing to me who inherits Traquair House.”
“Are you sure?”
He sighed and pulled up to the gate. It was after dark, and the gas lanterns guarding the entrance to Traquair flickered wildly inside their shades. “You are persistent, aren’t you?”
Embarrassed, I stared out of the window. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s none of my business.”
Ian frowned and reached out to touch my shoulder. Something changed his mind. When I looked again, both hands were on the steering wheel, and he was staring at me with a curious expression on his face. “I wonder why I seem to be spending most of my time apologizing to you when I’d much rather be doing something else.”
“What’s that?” I whispered at the same time his mouth closed over mine. I’m ashamed to say that the details of that first kiss dissolved, lost forever, in a wave of pure sensation. My only clear recollections are the incredible warmth of his lips, the feel of soft wool under my hands, and the