AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“In fact, I do believe you’re my first.” Then he frowned, as if registering what he’d just said. “Not that I’m trying to charm you, of course. At least not like that.”
Hopeless.
“Well, I declare myself perfectly charmed,” she said after a short but awkward pause. “Mugdock Castle has redeemed itself.”
He raised incredulous eyebrows. “You mean you’re not charmed by crumbling walls, dank privies, and dust-covered cellars, no matter how historic?”
“Is it even possible for privies to be historic?”
“It is if Robert the Bruce used it.”
She had to laugh. “All right. I can appreciate the historic nature of Mugdock while still having no desire to sleep under its roof.”
“Jeannie would not agree.”
She smiled. “I’m quite surprised to discover that she’s the romantic in the family. That was supposed to be me.”
“That’s a shame.”
She shot him a sideways glance, but he was absently gazing out over the countryside, as if not really seeing it.
“Maybe we should show her the privies,” Kathleen said.
He laughed. “All right, if Mugdock isn’t your style, what is?”
She didn’t have to think about it. “Greystone Manor, my family’s estate in Ireland.”
He turned toward her, leaning a hip against the parapet. “What’s it like?”
“Not like Scotland, and certainly not like Mugdock. Not that I don’t think it’s beautiful up here,” she hastily added. “But there’s something so rugged about Scotland. It’s got its own sort of beauty, but it’s . . .” She trailed off, not wanting to offend him.
“Harsh? Wait till you see the Highlands.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she ruefully said.
“Och, ye’ll be fine.”
Kathleen wasn’t so sure about that.
“So, tell me more about Greystone,” he prompted.
“Well, the house itself isn’t historic. It was only built in the last century. It’s elegant and pretty, and very much in the classical style.”
“And no dank privies.”
She held up a finger. “All the most up-to-date plumbing. Helen insisted.”
He gently nudged her around to the other side of the tower. “You don’t strike me as a lass who spends all her time indoors, no matter how good the plumbing.”
She was momentarily distracted by the new view. “That’s quite amazing.”
“It’s not Ireland, but still rather nice.”
“I never said that Scotland wasn’t beautiful,” she said, ignoring his grin.
He might not flirt, but Grant could clearly tease, when he put his mind to it.
“Just not as nice as Ireland,” he said.
