The Witch Of Clan Sinclair (20 page)

She didn’t have any objection to him taking the letter. She wished she could hand off the rest of her problems to someone else.

“You have a nest of wasps in your home, Macrath,” she said, staring out the window.

Below them, on the headland, Brianag and Enid were at it again, shouting at each other so loudly their words could be heard through the windows.

“Or maybe not a nest. Two very loud wasps. Do they think no one can hear them?”

“Yes,” Macrath said, coming to stand beside her. They also think Virginia and I don’t know about the discord they cause. “I’ve had visits from every inhabitant of Drumvagen at one time or another. When I’m not here, Jack and Sam inform me of what’s going on. It seems we have a war at Drumvagen.”

She nodded. “You need to do something about them.”

He nodded. “I do, as you need to do something about your own situation.” He patted his pocket. “I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” she said, compelled to agree.

“Promise me you’ll stay safe.”

She nodded. “But I won’t be a hermit, Macrath, and I won’t be boxed up in the paper’s offices.”

He grinned at her. “But you will continue to let James accompany you wherever you go.”

She nodded. Her brother didn’t need to know about her concerns about Allan. Nor did he need to know anything about Logan Harrison.

S
ince he didn’t want to bother Mairi’s cousin again, Logan stopped in at the Sinclair Printing Company a few days later.

The young man manning the press was a surly sort. At first he refused to tell him anything except that Mairi wasn’t in the building.

They faced each other, Logan standing in the doorway, the other man with a wrench in his hand, glaring alternately at him and the press.

“Are you in charge when Miss Sinclair is not here?” Logan asked.

“I’d be asking why you want to know.”

He would have to tell Mairi how loyal her employee was and how annoying. But a Scot was often like that, suspicious until coaxed into friendship.

“I don’t wish her ill,” Logan said. “I just want to know if she’s returned to Edinburgh.”

Allan didn’t say anything for a few moments, intent on removing something from the press. When the gear clattered to the floor, Logan retrieved it, noting that one of the teeth had broken.

He handed the gear to Allan, who glared at it with the same ferocity he’d turned on Logan.

“I’ll have to send for the part,” he said, looking as if he wanted to kick the press. “It was old twenty years ago. We need a rotary press, not this ancient thing. I’ve been putting it back together every day for the last seven months.”

“You’re new here, then?” Logan asked. “Are you new to Edinburgh, too?”

Allan scowled at him. “Again, why would you be wanting to know?”

Logan debated for a moment, then gave the man the truth. “I find I’m interested in what Miss Sinclair does. Since you work here, I’m also interested in you.”

“Yes, I am new to Edinburgh,” Allan said, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands. “It’s a good place for a pressman to work.”

“They call us the Athens of the North,” Logan said, smiling. “We’ve a great many newspapers and publishers.”

Allan nodded. A moment later he lifted his head and stared straight at him.

“I know who you are, Lord Provost. I remember the first time you were here, trying to put the fear of God in her. I’m thinking it’s a good thing she left Edinburgh for a while, and I’m thinking it would be a good thing for you to stop inquiring about her.”

“And I’m thinking it would be a good thing if you kept your advice to yourself,” Logan said, taking a few steps toward the man until he faced him across the press.

Allan threw the rag on a nearby table and rested his hands against one of the supporting bars.

“I’m in love with her cousin,” Allan said. “I’m stupid with it. Enough to see it in the face of another man.”

Logan didn’t respond. Politics had taught him the value of silence. Never more important than now, when words had been stripped from him by surprise.

“She’s not here, and I don’t expect her today,” Allan said, directing his attention to the press once more. “If you come tomorrow, I might be giving you the same answer.” He looked up. “Or maybe not.”

Logan ran his hand over the large wheel. The cool metal beneath his fingers seemed to warm to his touch, as if the press were a living creature, one seeking a source of heat.

He could almost feel her hands here, remembering when he entered the press room that first day and she’d been attired in a leather apron and a scowl.

“How long?” he asked. “How long do you think she’ll be gone?”

Allan straightened. “However long Mairi wants.”

The answer was right before his face. If he wanted to see Mairi, he’d have to find her first.

Chapter 22

“T
here’s a carriage coming up the drive,” Brianag said at the door of the parlor.

“A visitor? Who?”

“Are you the Queen of England now? If you want to know who it is, go to the door yourself.”

Mairi closed her book, praying for patience. With each passing day, Brianag grew even more disagreeable.

Or perhaps it was because she was bored beyond belief. The time away from Edinburgh dragged. She’d caught up on all her reading, spent hours in contemplation of what Macrath had said, and exhausted entirely too much time thinking about Logan.

Every time she tried to write, she’d find herself staring off into space. She found it difficult to keep her train of thought. She was forgetting tasks, names, and other information that she normally remembered with ease.

She noticed the looks between Macrath and Virginia and was so envious her stomach hurt.

She put down her book and stood. Maybe a visitor was just what she needed.

When Brianag left the room, stomping down the hall, Mairi stared after her. How did Macrath tolerate the woman?

D
rumvagen startled him. Logan had known Macrath Sinclair was a wealthy man. He just hadn’t expected a mansion in the wilderness. Set among the pines, hugging the cliff above the ocean, Drumvagen was a masterful piece of architecture, the equal to anything he’d seen in Scotland or England.

The sweeping grand staircases were no doubt meant to impress. Here, you are in the presence of power, they seemed to say. Or money. Or taste. Or a dozen different attributes, all designed to awe.

He was, but he wasn’t cowed. When his driver entered the circular drive, the oyster shells crunching beneath the wheels, he only felt anticipation.

At the door, instead of a majordomo, a woman with a regal bearing greeted him. She was attired in a long skirt of tartan wool, a white blouse with a clan brooch pinned on her chest.

When he asked for Mairi, she made a sign with her fingers, grumbled something, and turned to stomp off into the house. When she didn’t come back, he entered and shut the door behind him, only to hear her return.

“Well, are you coming?” she asked.

Now, there was a woman who could intimidate him.

He bit back his grin and followed her.

A
few minutes later Brianag returned to the parlor with the very last person Mairi expected to see at Drumvagen.

Logan stood there attired in a black coat, his hair mussed by the wind, his cheeks ruddy from the cold.

“You can’t be here,” she said.

“Why can’t I?”

“You’re the Lord Provost. You can’t go sallying forth all over Scotland.”

“Sallying forth?” he asked, his grin too white and charming.

“Who is doing your job?”

“I’m allowed a few days to myself from time to time,” he said.

“What are you doing here?”

“Perhaps there were things I needed to see near here.”

“Name one.”

“Kinloch Village,” he said easily. “The villagers have made significant inroads in correcting the erosion on the cliff side.”

He had to have done some research to know that. Or he could simply be lying. She didn’t know what the villagers were doing.

“I could go on and on about the fishing trade, if you wish, or perhaps I simply felt the need for a drive.”

“A four hour drive in the winter?”

His grin faded. “I came to see you, Mairi.”

Her heart was beating a rhythm that was alien to it, making her breathless.

“Again, why?”

“Perhaps I missed you.”

She folded her arms and glared at him. Quite easy to do, since she was frightened by his appearance and it was easier to be angry than afraid.

He speared his hands through his hair. Logan was as adverse to headwear as she. He really should take more care, however, since he was often out of doors. He’d be warmer wearing a hat.

She stopped herself in mid-thought, turned and walked toward the windows.

He would meet Macrath and Virginia. He would effortlessly charm them, she was sure. She had to explain his presence somehow, and she knew Macrath would never accept that the Lord Provost of Edinburgh was simply driving round Scotland in the snow and ice.

He’d come to see her.

Should she be feeling this surge of excitement? Probably not. She should, instead, be measured and calm, restrained and proper. Above all, she should not recall how he only had to raise his eyebrow for her to fall to the floor.

“My brother will want to know why you’re here.”

“A neighborly call,” he said.

She glanced over her shoulder to see him smiling lightly.

“Don’t tell him we were lovers.”

His smile faded. “Any other woman would be overjoyed that I went out of my way to visit, not question me on my tact.”

“Then go and see her. Give her my best regards.”

He came to stand behind her, so close that if she turned she’d be in his arms. She most certainly wasn’t going to turn.

The wind blew the waves away from the shore in a fan shape, unfurled and flirty. The day was overcast, no hint of sun showing through the pale gray sky. Her mood had been the same until he’d come.

“Mairi.”

He mustn’t say her name like that, rolling his
r
’s. He mustn’t use that tone of tenderness, either.

“Why did you leave?”

“Does it matter?”

“I find it does,” he said. “You’ve been on my mind.”

She turned, taking the precaution of stepping back. When he didn’t say anything more, she shook her head.

“I shouldn’t be. Any more than you’re on mine.”

His smile was sudden and almost the match of the hidden sun.

“You’re a very important man. Surely you have more important things to do than chase me throughout Scotland.”

“At the moment I can’t think of one.”

“Don’t you have meetings to attend? People to impress? Laws to enact?”

“We can consider this a meeting,” he said. “We can enact a law stating that it’s imperative you consider me impressive.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t be here. We were unwise. Foolish. Improvident.”

“I agree.”

“It can never happen again.”

He didn’t say a word.

“I will not be your doxy.”

Still nothing from him. Just that annoying smile.

“Why did you leave Edinburgh?” he asked.

“I wanted to visit my brother. Since you’ve never met my brother, you don’t have that excuse, Logan.”

She glanced at him to find that his smile had slipped. Instead, he was looking at her somberly, studying her as if to divine her thoughts. Should she tell him what she was thinking? If she did so, it would be the ruin of her.

He made the day brighter. He caused her stomach to churn, her heart to beat too fast.

She was excited, overjoyed, and terrified.

“You don’t believe women should have the vote,” she said.

She would have talked about the weather if it would keep him from looking at her in just that way.

“I don’t believe I’ve made my views known on the matter.”

“That’s a politician’s statement if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Like it or not,” he said, “I’m a politician.”

“You used to be a bookseller.”

“I still am that as well. Blackwell’s is, to my great satisfaction, a growing concern.”

“All three of them.”

“All three of them,” he said.

“Does everything you do have a golden touch?”

“Evidently not, or you’d be falling into my arms.”

She frowned at him. Her frowns had been known to subdue most people, but the only effect on Logan Harrison was to make his smile wider.

What was she going to do about him? Worse, what was she going to do about her reaction to him? Her heart was still beating fast, her lips dry.

“As you can see, I’m very well. I’m simply visiting my brother. Now that you’ve found me, you can return to Edinburgh as quickly as possible.”

Hopefully, before her brother or sister-in-law knew he was there.

Unfortunately, it was about five minutes too late. Mairi heard the footsteps with resignation. This situation was about to get worse, much worse.

She stepped away from him just as Virginia entered the room.

“Brianag told me we had a visitor,” she said, smiling.

From the moment she met her sister-in-law at Virginia’s wedding to Macrath, she’d thought Virginia one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. Her face, a perfect oval, was dominated by light blue eyes, so clear and guileless it seemed as if her soul shone through. Her black hair surrounded her face like a frame for an exquisite painting.

She smiled often and laughed as much. She was joy given life.

Now she walked into the room, brightening the space with her smile.

“Logan, I’d like you to meet my sister-in-law, Virginia Sinclair. Virginia, this is Logan Harrison. The Lord Provost of Edinburgh.”

Virginia’s eyes widened a little but she didn’t express her surprise in any other manner.

“How lovely that you’ve come to Drumvagen,” she said. “We are so out of the way most people don’t visit.”

Just like that, Logan was welcomed. His coat was taken, refreshments were ordered, and the three of them sat in the parlor as if the air wasn’t thrumming around them.

Before Logan could say anything, such as he was just leaving, Virginia smiled brightly and said, “But of course you’ll stay for dinner, will you not?”

Mairi glanced at him but he only smiled at her as if he were enjoying the entire situation.

“I anticipate meeting your husband,” he said. “I’ve heard a great deal about Mr. Sinclair.”

She sent him another look, but Logan ignored her, exchanging smiles with Virginia.

Mairi wanted to close her eyes and magically transport herself somewhere else. Anywhere else, even back to Edinburgh.

L
ogan stood at one side of the fireplace with Macrath on the other. He was taller than her brother, with a build that made Macrath looked almost frail in comparison. She had the disloyal thought that Logan could pin Macrath easily in a brawl.

Dear God, don’t let it come to that.

With any luck, Logan would keep silent about what had happened in Edinburgh. Would he?

If Macrath was surprised by the arrival of so august a personage as the Lord Provost of Edinburgh, he didn’t betray it by word or deed. Instead, he was himself, only more so. More affable, more relaxed, and more intense in the looks he sent her. She was under no illusions. The minute Logan was out of earshot, she was going to be interrogated, she was sure of it.

She sat in silence as Macrath and Logan talked about some obscure act in Edinburgh. When he had her brother become so politically minded? For that matter, when had Logan become a courtier?

This was the man she’d heard about, the one who smiled so charmingly, who laughed at the right time, and complimented his hostess until Virginia blushed. Each of the maids tried to catch his eye, and even Brianag had softened toward him.

Mairi almost threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.

Since it appeared as if Logan had been accepted into the bosom of the family, she was surprised they didn’t enter the smaller, and more intimate, family dining room.

But Ellice had been escorted into the formal dining room by Logan, following Macrath and Virginia. Mairi was accompanied by Enid, who was curling her lip in preparation for yet another battle with Brianag.

The first course was Kinloch skink, a fish soup that was one of Macrath’s favorite dishes. She couldn’t help but remember the potato soup she’d eaten at Logan’s house. From his quick glance, he remembered as well.

Would this meal never be done?

“How is it that you know Mairi?” Virginia was asking.

Mairi met her brother’s eyes, then shifted her gaze to Logan.

“She wrote a scurrilous broadside about me,” he said easily. “I objected, naturally.”

Virginia looked over at her.

“It’s true,” she said, placing her spoon on the edge of the bowl. “I did.”

Since that part of the story was common knowledge, she didn’t have any reluctance to comment on it. The rest, please God, let the rest remain a secret.

“Of course I was mistaken. The Lord Provost is the epitome of all things good and proper.”

Macrath shot her a look, and she almost stuck her tongue out at him.

Logan laughed, further charming all the females at the table, including Enid, but with a sole exception—her. She was not going to be charmed by the man again.

Look what had happened the last time. She’d been charmed right out of her clothes.

Virginia looked like she was striving to come up with another topic. Because Mairi felt some measure of compassion for her sister-in-law, she decided to participate in the conversation.

“I am attempting to convince the Lord Provost that women should be treated with some degree of equality,” she said. “He is reviewing the matter.”

Macrath stared at her. Logan smiled. Virginia’s eyes were wide.

“Isn’t that so, Provost Harrison?”

“I’ve always believed there are times when women should be on top,” he said.