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Chapter 10

“Guid eve’nin’ tae ye!”

At the sound of the familiar voice, Ailie turned. “Grandfather!”

Making her excuses to Muriel, Ailie hastened to meet him at the parlor door. The footman must have taken his coat and cap, leaving him in his dark blue woolen jacket, knitted vest and trousers. A scarf of the same blue was tied around his neck almost, but not quite, like a cravat. Beneath his silver hair, strong features and blue eyes, he sported a well-trimmed beard.

She kissed his leathery cheek that smelled of the sea and smoke, reminding her of his days at sea as a fisherman and of his current occupation. “You must come warm yourself by the fire, Grandfather, and then I will introduce you to our guests.”

She ushered him to the fireplace, proudly announcing to the others, “Grandfather Ramsay has paid us an impromptu visit. Once he warms up a bit, I will properly introduce you.”

Their guests parted to allow them to pass, curious gazes and smiles following them across the room. When they reached the countess, Ailie’s grandfather paused to give Muriel a long studying perusal before continuing on.

They reached the fireplace just as one of the footmen came to add a log to the fire.

“Would you like something to drink?” Ailie knew the answer before asking. Most of their guests were drinking wassail, but her grandfather would want a fisherman’s drink.

“Ale’d be guid.”

The footman nodded to Ailie and went to fetch the drink.

Her grandfather stretched his weathered hands toward the flames. “It’s fair jeelit outside. Cauld enough tae freeze kelpies.”

Ailie was amused at his mention of the mythical water spirit. “’Tis been freezing cold all day, Grandfather, and it’s worse now that the sun has set. I’m delighted to see you but why ever did you come out in such weather?”

Ailie’s brother appeared beside her. “Aye, is all well?”

The footman returned, handing her grandfather the ale.

“Weel,” began her grandfather, taking a long draw on his drink, “when ye sent word a band o’ Sassenachs were comin’ tae Stonehaven fer Hogmanay, I had tae see ’em fer meself. A mate o’ mine was sailin’ this way so I hopped aboard.”

Wondering where they would put him, Ailie asked, “How long will you be able to stay?”

“I hae tae leave in the mornin’ when my mate returns.”

“One night,” she murmured under her breath, exchanging a glance with Will.

“All the bedchambers are taken,” explained Will. “Even the servants have had to double up. But you can have my study. You remember, it’s the room on the other side of the entry hall just before you reach the library. The large sofa will make for a comfortable bed and you’ll not be disturbed.”

“’Twill do me jus’ fine. I’ve slept on fishin’ boats fer most o’ me life, ye ken.”

Angus Ramsay, now a widower, once owned his own fishing boats, but when he gave up the sea, he sold them and went into business in Stonehaven smoke-drying haddock. He was the reason they never lacked for smoked haddies. Now in his sixties, Ailie thought him quite distinguished looking, his weathered face, tanned and lined from so many years in the sun, speaking of his character.

“Well then,” said Ailie, “if you’re sufficiently warmed, you’d best meet our guests and join us for dinner.”

Her grandfather eyed Muriel. “I’d like tae meet her first.”

Will rolled his eyes. “I leave that to you, Ailie. I’ll see about preparing the study. And, Grandfather, after you’ve met the others, you must greet Emily.”

“Aye, I’m fond o’ the heather-eyed lass, soon tae be the mother o’ me new gran’bairn.”

Resigned to her role as interpreter, when Will left them for Emily, Ailie looped her arm through her grandfather’s and sallied forth to introduce him. “Now behave,” she said, leaning close to his ear. “You’re about to meet a countess of great renown of whom Will and I are quite fond, a marquess and his marchioness, the daughter of an earl and four shipmasters.”

“Unless one o’ them is Robert the Bruce, I’ll nae be swept off me feet.”

Ailie grinned, unsurprised that her grandfather would not be impressed by titles of British nobility. He saved his ardent passion for Scotland’s heroes. She stopped in front of the countess. “Muriel, may I introduce you to Angus Ramsay of Stonehaven, my maternal grandfather?”

Muriel nodded and graciously offered her hand.