Page 30 of Beware A Wallflower's Wrath
For Glasgow would be his new home. He had inherited his aunt’s estate, a nice property less than half a day south of Glasgow, but would probably keep his home in London for the time being. He rose and went to the desk to pen a letter, preparing Anthony for his visit. Then he sent up a silent prayer of thanks before preparing for bed.
The next morning, he woke refreshed. He’d had the best night’s sleep in months. Posting the letter as he left the hotel, he smiled at the strangers passing him by. It was a glorious day, the sun shone warm upon his back, and his future, their future, looked bright. Striding along Alston, he saw a black Scottish terrier weaving through the pedestrians.
“Mac,” he called with glee. The chance encounter made him feel part of Annis’s family. The dog stopped and looked over his shoulder. His tail wagged, he gave a bark in welcome, then continued on his way. Robert followed. The terrier went the length of Alston, passing Books and Bits. Robert almost stopped there, but he was curious as to where the Mac was going. They made their way to George Street and turned left. The terrier stopped in front of an imposing stone building and sat down to wait for something. Or someone.
As he caught up with the dog, he glanced up to find himself in front of a school. “You must be waiting for Finlay.” Robert leaned back against one of the trees lining the street. After a few minutes, a dozen or so older boys emerged from the building. The dark-blond head of his son stopped in front of Mac and held out his arms. The Scottie leaped into them. The dog licked, the boy laughed, and then they were on their way.
“Finlay,” he called at the retreating back, waving as both turned around.
“Lord Robert! How did ye find me here?” Finlay smiled and walked toward him with his hand out.
“I followed Mac. Are you returning to the bookstore?”
“Och, I’m going to the mill. I can walk with ye back to the shop first if ye’d like.”
“Excellent, we can talk along the way.”
And talk they did. It astounded Robert how easily they conversed, how many similar interests they shared. Both enjoyed riding, though Finlay didn’t have a horse of his own. His grandfather had taught him, and they rode together whenever they visited Dunderave. Neither cared much for turnips, both enjoyed swimming on a hot day, but Finlay had found hunting exhilarating where Robert considered it gruesome.
“I heard ye were good with yer fists.”
Robert’s brow rose. “Who told you that?”
“Colin and Lachlan. They said ye had a braw right. Ma didn’t want me getting into scraps and wouldn’t let Colin teach me.” He gave Robert a shy glance—hazel eyes meeting hazel eyes. “If ye asked her, she might change her mind. Ye dinna seem the type to get into scuffles.”
“I consider boxing a weapon of self-defense. I don’t condone violence, but a man must be able to protect those he loves and keep himself from harm.”
“Sounds like legal talk, but if it changes Ma’s mind, I agree.”
Robert laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. What is your favorite subject in school?”
“Mathematics seems more useful than composition or English. I’m no’ particularly fond of literature. And it’s necessary to set the machines, balance ledgers. I dinna mind learning new things but I prefer the lessons I can put to use.” He called to Mac to wait at the corner of the next street. “Here we are. B&B is just to the left.”
“B&B? For Books and Bits?” Clever.
“Aye.” He held out his hand to Robert. “I look forward to our next meeting.”
“As do I. Perhaps I’ll meet you again with Mac,” he added hopefully.
“Sure, but the session is over this week.”
Annis walked along the shelves, replacing books that had been returned and cataloging new ones. She saw a spine sticking out from the rest on a shelf above her head. She reached up to tap it into place and a bit of paper caught her eye. She pulled the tome down and pulled out the slip of paper to find it had writing on it.
A red and blue ship have collided in the Caribbean sea.
Apparently, the survivors are marooned.
The laugh began deep in her belly, and by the time it came out of her mouth had morphed into a bellow. This had to be Rabbie.
“I hoped that was the effect it would produce. I’d love to hear you laugh every day for the rest of my life.”
She glanced over her shoulder to find the offending joker in the doorway. She hadn’t even heard the bell. He stood leaning against the jamb, a smirk on his face, his hazel eyes glinting green as he chuckled. His broad shoulders stretched the fine fabric of his bottle-green coat, and a high-crowned beaver hat tilted rakishly on his blond head.
“Thank ye for the tulip. Where on earth did ye find one in June?” she asked, replacing the book and tucking the slip into her pocket for safekeeping.
“The miracle of the hothouse flower.” He pushed off the frame and walked toward her. “I just left Finlay. He’s on his way to the textile mill.”
“Aye, it’s Wednesday. He was working a few days a week, though he’ll try to talk me into more with school soon out.” She sighed. “I’d rather he had new experiences. Why do the young no’ understand they’ll work the rest of their lives?”
