accepted.” He really was sweet, but I had to know. “Will you tell me?”
Ian grinned. “You aren’t getting out of here scot-free, my friend. Tell the lady and then leave us alone.”
The doctor cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. “Only that your degree is in Celtic history. You read and write Gaelic as well as a Highlander. Your parents retired and moved to California. You married early and were recently divorced.” He hesitated.
“Anything else?”
“You have no children.”
“Is that all?”
He looked up, startled. “Yes. Of course.”
I couldn’t decide if he was telling the truth. He looked so honest, and yet I knew, through painful personal experience, that the best liars were masters of the art. They had the ability to look a person straight in the eye and protest their innocence with the blood of their victims still warm on their hands.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said quickly. Ellen Maxwell had probably told everyone anyway. “I’ll fill you in on the rest, although I can’t imagine why anyone would be interested. I’m an only child, and I can’t have children.” I took a deep breath and bit my lip, bracing myself for the familiar recurring pain. If I hurried through it fast enough, this time I might avoid the embarrassing tears that welled up at the most inappropriate times. “My husband left me for someone younger and more fertile, at which time I took back my maiden name. I’m the last of a long line of Murrays.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Murray,” the doctor mumbled. From the red staining his cheeks, I could tell he hadn’t recovered from his own embarrassment.
“Thank you.” I smiled generously. “I’m over it now. Really I am.”
“Why did you say that?” Ian asked abruptly. There was a strange expression on his face.
“What?”
“That you were the last of the Murrays?”
“Because it’s true. Why do you ask?”
“It’s odd, that’s all. People don’t use that expression any more. You’re the expert in Gaelic history. Do you know anything about the Murrays?”
“Of course.”
“Tell me everything you know.”
“Good God, Ian,” the doctor protested. “The woman just fell to the floor in insulin shock. Is this necessary?”
Ian ran impatient hands through his sun-streaked hair. “Not really. We can discuss this later if you’re tired.”
He was probably the best-looking man I’d ever seen, and I felt like a washed-out disaster. It was suddenly terribly important to find out if he was attached. “I’d be very happy to,” I said. “Can you come back later?”
He smiled, and once again I felt a definite shortness of breath. “Will you have dinner with me this evening?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll come for you at seven. Everything closes up early.”
“I’ll be ready.”
***
The phone jingled in the hallway. I tensed, waiting for the second ring. It didn’t come. There was a knock at the door, and the maid poked her head inside, not at all bothered that I was half dressed. Formality, I found, was not a major concern at Traquair House.
“Phone call from America for you, Miss Murray. It’s your mother, returning your call.”
Knotting my robe around my waist, I walked into the hallway and picked up the phone. “Mom? How are you?”
“Just fine, dear. Is everything all right?” Across ten thousand miles her crisp, no-nonsense voice greeted me over the telephone wire.
“Of course.” I didn’t ordinarily confide in my mother, but something made me tell her. “I’ve only been here two days, and I already have a date.”
There was silence on the line. “Don’t you think you’re rushing it?” she finally said. “It’s awfully soon after the divorce.”
When would that word divorce no longer bring a painful tightness into my throat? I struggled to answer my mother. “Please try and understand, Mom. I know it’s only been legal for three months, but I’ve been separated for over a year. Stephen’s already remarried.”
“Is that what you called about?” Ever-practical Susan Murray didn’t believe in wasting money.
“Actually, I called to speak to Dad.”
She laughed. “Of course you did. I’ll put him on.” It was no secret that I had always preferred my father’s conversation to almost anyone’s, including Mother’s. I was definitely a daddy’s girl. Fortunately, I’d been blessed with a mother secure enough not to resent it.
My childhood had been unique to say the least. Born nine months after my parents’ wedding day, I adjusted quickly to the fact that life with a couple barely out of their teens wasn’t going to parallel the lives of my childhood friends. There were no scheduled bath or bedtimes at the