Edwina (2 page)

“Come, miss.” Reardon broke into her
thoughts.

Blindly, like a sheep meekly going to
slaughter, she stepped onto the ancient wooden stairs then down a
rather dark corridor until they stood at the last door on the left.
Reardon set down his burdens. Another huge arched window was at the
end of the corridor, the sun repeating its gothic pattern on the
wood floors. The thick ornate wooden door was opened to her. She
walked past Reardon, who stood aside and bowed slightly. Had anyone
ever bowed to her before? She couldn’t remember.

Reality could have slapped her and she would
still think she’d just awoke from a dream. The tapestry at the
windows and across the huge four-poster bed, also of dark cherry,
looked like so many pictures she’d seen in magazines. A decorator
she was not, but she knew elegance when she saw it—and in fact was
standing upon it this very moment.

Usually practical to a
fault, Edwina allowed herself to feel the dream, to pretend she was
beautiful and rich. After all she
was
in Scotland standing in a castle
somewhere near Edinburgh.
Why shouldn’t a
girl dream?
she wondered
wildly.

She knew Reardon had followed her in and set
her suit- cases upon the low chest at the foot of the bed.

“I shall send Bertilda to assist you in your
unpacking.”

Edwina opened her mouth, then snapped it
shut. What she wanted was to be left alone to look at everything in
the room, to look behind the long emerald green and royal blue
plaid curtains that surely hid an awesome view. Plaid seemed to be
the main theme in the room. No doubt the Scot’s Tartan. A strange
ambiance circled her in a feeling of being at home. But she was
Irish on her mother’s side. Definitely Irish. Not Scottish.

Shaking her head because her mind was mush,
she turned at the sound of a slight knock. The door was so thick
she barely heard the request to enter. Before she could open her
mouth, a large woman bustled in and began unpacking her bag.

Edwina’s hand went out to stop her. She was
quite capable, tired or no, to unpack her own things. The maid’s
countenance told her she’d done this many times before and knew her
duty. Edwina let her hand fall to her side. She didn’t know a thing
about protocol in Scotland. She’d read dozens of books—why hadn’t
she thought to read some travel books before stepping into another
country? And then she remem- bered. Cecelia had surprised her,
knowing full well Edwina would refuse the trip if it hadn’t already
been planned. She’d had exactly six days to prepare.

What day was it anyway? She’d left late
Friday after- noon. What about the time change? She’d not had the
sense to investigate.

“Ma’am, what day is it?”

“It’d be Saturday. And me name’s Bertilda. If
ye be needin’ anything, ye must only ask fer it.”

“Thank you, Bertilda.” Edwina almost lifted
her hand in a friendly shake but placed it back at her side.

“Would ye like yer bath drawn?”

“A bath?” Edwina sighed. Bertilda saw her
need and hustled through another door.

Before long Edwina found herself soaking in
rose-scented bath bubbles. The tub was larger than her entire
bathroom at home. Such luxury. And the towels! Fit for a queen in a
castle. Which was exactly what she was right now. A good pinch
might pop the bubble.

Wrapped in a huge cherry pink, very thick
towel, she made her way to the bed, which had already been turned
back and smoothed to perfection. Her thin cotton pajamas lay out on
the elegant covers. She felt a certain shame at the raggedy
material so out of place in such grand surroundings. What must
Bertilda think of her?

Seconds later she was ensconced first in her
own pajamas and then in the huge, soft bed. Above her the fringe on
the canopy fluttered as her eyes blinked, then closed. She was safe
for the night.

Chapter 3

U
ndisturbed, Edwina woke on her own. She stretched and mewed
like a cat, so sweet had her sleep been. Had she ever mewed like a
cat before? She didn’t think so.

A trip to the bathroom left her refreshed
after a quick washup. Rifling through her clothes, she wondered
what a girl in a Scottish castle should wear. She found her things
neatly folded in a drawer, pushed aside her worn jeans and chose
her favorite black print skirt and a short-sleeved white cotton
shirt. Settling herself in the overstuffed wing-backed chair, she
thought about the last couple of days and how she could possibly
find herself, the sensible one, here in Scotland alone.

Edwina remembered their conversation
well.

The call came as they waited in Chicago to
board the plane.

“What do you mean you can’t go?” Edwina
stared at her sister.

Cecelia snapped her phone shut and said,
“Father has expired. I must make arrangements to travel to Milan
immediately.”

Edwina watched her step-sister’s quick steps
with disbe- lief, grabbed her carry-on and ran after her. “But
we’re ready to board. I can’t go to Scotland without you, Cecelia.”
Edwina stopped.

Cecelia turned, crossed her arms over her nut
brown embroidered jacket and said, “Of course, you’ll go without
me. The arrangements are all in order. You need only to follow the
itinerary I gave you. Chicago to London to Edinburgh. Simple.”

For the first time in her life, Edwina
stomped her foot. “Look, this was your plan for us, together, not
for me to travel alone. You know I don’t like to... to... leave
home.” She sputtered.

“Exactly, the reason you
must continue your trip. This is your first holiday away from your
job in three years, Ed. You need to learn a little about
other
people.”

“You’re the one who needs
people all over the world... not me. I’m happy to be an assistant
librarian and
read
about other people’s lives.” Edwina’s hands were on her hips.
She glanced around at the people passing.

“The barrister said
Father’s will is to be read day after tomorrow and I must be in
Italy. I
am
his
only heir.”

“I know that, Cecelia. It’s just that...
.that...” Edwina forced herself to lower her voice.

“What, Ed?” Cecelia checked her watch. “I
have to see if I can get on standby... it’s going to be difficult
enough to catch another flight today. Really, I’m sorry. Besides we
flew to Italy for our parents’ wedding remember?”

“Yes, but that was six years ago...” Edwina
heard the whine in her normally calm librarian voice. “And you’re
the one that was born in England.”

“It’s not
that
difficult, Ed...
you’re so organized.”

“In my own world, I’m organized. This is not
my world, Cece, it’s yours.”

“Look, why don’t you just board the plane and
see if you might find someone to talk to and learn all you can
about Edinburgh. It’s easy enough. I’ve done it dozens of times.
Ask lots of questions. People love to talk about things they
know.”

Edwina’s thoughts flew
through her head like scattered pearls bouncing off a marble floor.
“
You
love to talk
to people. I love to read books
about
people, remember?” The pitch
of her voice raised a notch.

“Well, then it’s time you learned a little
more about life. You can’t live your entire life out of books,
Edwina Blair.”

The firmness of her sister’s words hit her
like a scorching wind. Or was her face already hot? She lifted her
hand to her cheek and looked away. She hated emotional displays in
public places.

“Besides, everything is paid for. It cost me
a lot of money, Ed.”

Edwina stared into her sister’s beautiful
blue eyes as her stomach did flip-flops. That did it. Not one for
wasting money or disappointing anyone, she realized at that moment
she would be going to Scotland for two weeks. Alone.

Cecelia must have known she’d won, for her
sister tucked her cell in her pocket, laid her exquisitely
manicured hands upon Edwina’s shoulders and winked. “See, I knew
you’d see it my way. You’ll have the time of your life, believe me.
There’s plenty to do... be sure to visit Edinburgh Castle, take
several bus tours around the country, one through the Highlands for
certain. The people at the hotel will tell you which ones are best.
The itinerary is in the packet I gave you. You’ll be fine,
Edwina.”

Edwina looked at her feet.
Well, if this was called adventure, she guessed she was in for a
big one.
Lord, I’m going with you... show
me the way
. A huge sigh escaped her
lips.

“There, now.” Cecelia comforted her sister
with a pat on her arm.

Edwina’s heart seemed to return to normal
pace, for some odd reason, because none of this was going to be
easy or fun... at least not from her point of view. And all because
there was no way she’d let all that money be wasted just because
she was afraid. Besides, her conscience railed, wasn’t she being
insensitive to Cecelia’s pain right now?

“I’ll be all right, Cece. I’m really sorry
about your father.”

“Don’t worry about me, Ed. You know Father
and I were never close. He was not kind to my mother or me. But he
did have a beautiful villa and I shall make plans to put it to good
use. Actually, I’m rather excited to see it. Mum says it is located
in an exquisite part of the country and quite lavishly
furnished.”

Edwina stared at her sister. Cecelia could
change life- styles quicker than Edwina could put gas in her little
white Volkswagen.

“I’ll let the airlines know I won’t be
flying. They’ll use my seat for a standby. Be right back.”

Edwina barely heard.

Chapter 4

I
t
was Cecelia who loved to travel. Her dreams always came true,
including the fact that she, being the only child of an actress and
an Italian count, was also beautiful beyond imagination. Silky
golden blonde hair, blue eyes and a bone structure to die
for.

Edwina’s mother and father were not of the
same stock. She was born not of a count, but of two college
professors who gave her, their only child, the gift of practicality
and the desire to learn. Unlike Cecelia who had the best educa-
tion money could buy at Oxford, Edwina had received two degrees:
one in Library Science and a second in Writing from the University
of Michigan, her father’s alma mater. But beyond her superior
education, Cecelia also possessed a star-quality beauty, not to
mention strong entrepreneurial leanings.

Edwina’s widowed father, stern, yet of a kind
nature, had fallen completely in love with Cecelia’s mother, an
aged but still beautiful English stage actress. She was rich and
unattached and her father had married the woman within a
month—which was very unlike his conservative nature; the man who
planned every detail of his life right down to the annual purchase
of fresh, new underwear in January during the white sale.

The passing of Cecelia’s father had left her
an Italian villa and who knows what else. With all the money
Cecelia would attain, she would still boss Edwina around. Her elder
by exactly twenty-three months, Cecelia insisted on acting the part
even though they were only stepsisters. Cecelia had been twenty
years old, she eighteen, when the pecking order had been
established.

Edwina hated her name. Aptly named after her
father’s mother, she rather wished she’d been called by her middle
name, Emily. It sounded so much softer. But now her name and her
life were set in stone. And having a beautiful, rich, and very
spoiled stepsister, she’d been honor bound by some sort of human
chain of events to choose a lifestyle that was very sane, very
safe. Which she had done. A well-educated librarian had been her
choice of vocation, pleasing her parents immensely.

So now she found herself bound by duty...
once again... to save her sister’s cash outlay and was presently
square in the middle of Scotland in the castle of a very handsome
Scot. She brushed her long, chestnut brown hair and tied it back
with a black ribbon.

Edwina wanted to laugh. If her sister were
here, the hand- some Scot currently at Edwina’s service, Cecelia
would have made a play for him at the hotel counter... no even
earlier... on the plane. Cecelia would have finagled her way into
the seat next to the handsome man and chirped up a conversation
immediately. And with her golden blonde upswept hair around her
perfect heart-shaped face, she would have succeeded.

Edwina giggled at the foolishness of it all.
Time to get to the business for which she came—the castle tour. She
fished through her small purse for Cecelia’s itinerary. She must
make her way to the hotel and fight with the hotel’s owner that she
was not Cecelia Grace Giatana but Edwina Emily Blair. Nothing about
their names matched and Cecelia’s driver’s license picture that had
been faxed ahead was clearly nothing like her own image. That’s
when the problems started.

Snapping the folded paper out of her purse,
she smoothed it on the small bedside table and sighed. She’d much
rather be about the countryside, checking out plants and flowers
native to Scotland. And what industries were about the area? How
did Scotland carry its people? What were their likes and dislikes?
Again she found herself wishing to study people and places, not
ballrooms and buildings. It was Cecelia who bought buildings and
turned them into elegant apartments or English bed-and-breakfasts.
Not her. She hated business. Another difference between her
beautiful, talented stepsister and herself.

Well, what was to be done? Edwina’s
practicality surfaced, and she studied the paper. After a night of
blessed sleep. . . hmm... what did one do in a castle in
Scotland?