British Black Sheep - Lauren Smith Page 0,41

of the nightstands and placed the leather journal next to it before he poured the scotch into them.

“Single malt whiskey,” he said as he handed her a glass. She took a sip. It burned, nearly choking her and she coughed in response. He patted her back as she recovered.

“The second sip goes down smoother,” he assured her.

He was right. The next sip went down smoothly. It still burned, but in a different way. Her body started to hum with the heat from the whiskey.

“So…” She pointed at the wolf. “What’s the story behind that?”

There had to be hundreds of mysteries in this old home, hidden in the paintings, dusty black and white photos nestled in old frames, artifacts that might be centuries old. She wanted to know the stories behind them all.

Alec sipped his whiskey and walked over to examine the wolf in the tapestry. “Don’t tell Morgan I told you, but this tapestry used to give him nightmares. He was terrified of the wolf. He said that it used to come out of the fabric in his dreams. He would see these red eyes…” Alec reached out and touched the eyes, which she noticed did have some red thread mixed in with the black that made the beast’s eyes glow.

“That would have given me nightmares too.” The more she stared at it the scarier it became. “It still might.”

Alec chuckled. “I’ll be here to protect you.” He winked at her and for a second he seemed more like his playful younger brother. “Let’s see, what do I remember…?” He faced the wolf tapestry again. “My family received this tapestry from the noble Wolfe family. One of our ancestors in the eighteenth century married into the Wolfe family and became Viscountess Wolfe. The gift she sent home to us was this tapestry. It’s said that so long as Merryvale possesses it, the house is protected by the wolf’s magic.”

“Magic?” Brie almost laughed but stopped herself when she saw Alec was completely serious.

“What kind of magic, we don’t know. But for everything that dies within these walls, the lands grow something else,” Alec’s voice softened as he tilted his head. “The day after my grandfather died, the cherry trees blossomed. They had been dormant during the winter, but they exploded into bloom. A hundred trees all at once on Boxing Day, just after a heavy snowfall, and they stayed in bloom the rest of the winter. Every arborist nearby was astounded and none could explain it.”

“Magic,” Brie echoed in wondrous understanding. Sometimes things happened in life that didn’t seem possible, yet they happened anyway. “So, this wolf protects Merryvale?”

“According to the legends, he does it in honor of our ancestor who left the home she loved to marry a stranger. You see, my ancestor didn’t love Viscount Wolfe, nor he her, the marriage was one of necessity. But they came to love each other most passionately.”

“Do you think I could write about that story in the book?”

Alec was quiet for a long moment. “I suppose. But why? I thought it was a Christmas traditions book.”

“It is, but I want to share the beauty of this place, the stories, the magic, it all matters. It’s all part of Merryvale.”

“For book sales, naturally.” His words held a slight bite as he finished his scotch.

“No,” she shook her head fiercely. “That doesn’t matter to me. It never has.” How could she explain to him the power of words, the power of stories? “I don’t write for money. I write because stories matter. Tales of human experience matter.”

Alec’s sighed and turned to face her. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to sharing things about Merryvale. Ever since they started filming that blasted Regency miniseries here, my parents have been dealing with overeager fans and other madness.”

“I get it. You’re a bit protective. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She put a hand on his arm, and he tapped her glass.

“Finish your drink.”

“Why?” She raised a brow, smiling. “You want to get me drunk?”

“No!” He chuckled. “I want you to drink it because that scotch is bloody expensive, and I’d hate to waste it.”

“Oh.” She tipped the glass back and finished it, letting the burn of warm her whole body up.

“But also because I want you relaxed.” He cupped her chin, gazing into her eyes in a way that made her dizzier than the alcohol ever could.

“Just for the record, I haven’t really done this before.” She couldn’t look away as he took a step closer to her.

“Done