my brother has earned some time to himself. I can’t box him in forever, even if I have done so only because I want to protect him. Overall, he’s a good young man, with a good head on his shoulders, and I guess it’s time I allow him the opportunity to show me so.” It wasn’t easy raising Nevan on her own. But she loved her brother and would do anything for him. Even give him the space he needed.
Chapter 11
The clank of metal against metal fluttered through the air as Sarina sat on the settee in the library, her gaze focused on Campbell handing Tipton what appeared to be a large iron ring laden with a dozen or so keys. She imagined it took a lot to run a house the size of Lycansay Hall. Keeping track of the keys alone, had to be a worrisome job.
A low vibration shook the floor.
Sarina ignored the rumble, her attention solely directed on Campbell who was now engaged in quite the conversation with Tipton, their voices hushed and whispered.
She turned away. Eavesdropping was never her way and she had no intention of picking up the habit now.
The door’s lock clicked behind her.
“My apologies for keeping ye waiting,” Campbell said, walking straight for the cabinet across the room. “Tipton was finishing up for the night and I needed him to tend to something.” He opened the cabinet and revealed several crystal decanters along with an array of different styled glasses.
“May I pour ye a drink?” Campbell asked while hovering over the liquor. “A glass of madeira, perhaps?”
“That will do just fine. Thank you.” She continued to eye the marquis, his strong arms filling out his suit jacket to the point the fabric appeared pushed to its limits as Campbell lifted one of the decanters. She wished she hadn’t been asleep when he’d carried her to bed last night. Being in Campbell’s arms must have been comforting, thrilling, perhaps even a tad wicked. In the worst it would have cost her part of her soul to indulge in something as sinful as enjoying the feel of the marquis’s arms wrapped around her. But considering she was already half-way condemned just by being Charles Ogilvy’s daughter, and by sharing the man’s hell-spawned gift, what was the harm in enjoying Campbell’s company?
“Tipton told me you have Roman blood in the family.” Better to talk than to fully entrench herself in illicit thoughts.
“We do. One of my ancestors was a legionary stationed along the Vallum Antonini.” Campbell handed over the glass of madeira, then sat on the settee, his buff-colored trousers melding perfectly with the cushion’s striped silk.
“I know very little about my mother’s side of the family,” Sarina said, “But I was lucky to have a very nice stepmother who informed me of her own lineage so I may pass that information on to Nevan. I think it important to know where one comes from.”
“I agree completely.” With a smile, Campbell placed his glass of what Sarina recognized to be a dram of Scotch, on the table in front of them, before removing his dinner jacket. “Between the MacHendries and the Roman side of the family, Lycansay Hall has a verra interesting past.”
“And what of the house itself?”
“Meaning?”
“Does Lycansay Hall have a lineage like a human does?”
“Ah, ye mean like where its bricks and mortar come from?”
“Yes.”
Campbell nodded as he reclaimed his drink from the table. “Aye. It has a cornerstone that came from the original cottage my Roman ancestor built.” He raised the Scotch to his lips and indulged in a sip of the caramel-colored drink.
Finding it hard to turn away from Campbell, Sarina eyed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. The male form was suddenly becoming quite enticing to her. “Nevan’s mother had a similar lineage as yours,” she said, hoping to shake off some of the heat that was slowly but surely consuming her veins. “Her Scottish father was very proud of their mixed heritage, so much so, he worked as an archeologist on both Hadrian’s Wall and the Vallum Antonini. It was on one of those expeditions that my father was called in to help identify some of the findings. That’s how he met Elsbeth.”
“Nevan’s mother was a Scottish lass?”
“Born and bred. She came to New York shortly after she and my father married. Unfortunately, she never had the opportunity to return here, as she died giving birth to my brother. But she often talked about Scotland. And did so in