In Your Wildest Scottish Dreams Read Online Free PDF Page B

in the future.
    “An interesting city,” Baumann had said.
    He’d invited him here tonight for one reason only. He wanted to know what Baumann would do, with whom he would speak. Who, in Glasgow, was his friend?
    He hadn’t considered that the man would talk with Glynis. Or that they would know each other.
    What was Glynis doing talking to a Union agent? For that matter, why had she come home now?

Chapter 4
     
    “G o to bed,” Lennox said to his sister.
    She ignored him and directed one of the grooms to a tray piled with food. Tonight they’d feast in the stable and in the kitchen. What wasn’t consumed by the servants would be dispensed to the poor.
    The garlicky smell of mutton vied with roast beef and the fragrant, warm yeasty aroma of Cook’s brioche, a recipe she swore was given to her not by a French relative but an Irish one. Above all the other scents was the odor of candle wax as servants extinguished the hundreds of candles in the chandeliers.
    Mary moved to the other side of the room, giving orders to the maids as she went. His sister directed everyone with militaristic precision, a general with a full complement of troops at her disposal. Her voice, however, was husky with fatigue.
    He grabbed a nearby tablecloth, wadded it into a ball and tossed it into the basket to be taken to the laundry. A maid grinned at his perfect aim.
    When Mary returned to his side of the ballroom, he grabbed the stack of plates in her hand.
    “Go to bed,” he told her again.
    Mary glanced at him in surprise. “Nonsense,” she said. “There’s still too much to do. The best dishes must be packed up and put away.”
    “Mrs. Hurst and the staff can do that.”
    She nodded. “Yes, but the carpets should be swept and the floor damp-mopped.” She glared down at the floor. “There are spots where the wax dripped. Those must be repaired tonight.”
    “You don’t need to do it. If the maids have any questions Mrs. Hurst can’t answer, I’ll tell them to come to me.”
    “When did you get so domesticated, Lennox?” she asked, glancing up at him with a smile.
    “I’ve been watching you all these years,” he said. “The chores can be ably managed by Mrs. Hurst. Isn’t that why we employ a housekeeper? Or, if not her, they can wait until morning.”
    “It won’t take long to finish.”
    “Do you mind caring for Father?”
    She glanced at him in surprise.
    “Why would I mind?” she asked. “Hasn’t he always cared for us?”
    He nodded. “But in the last two years you’ve changed,” he said, the first time he put his concerns into words.
    She walked to a side table, occupied with gathering up the silver.
    “The accident was a terrible thing to happen,” she said, glancing over at him. “I can’t imagine how awful it must be to be able to see one moment, and the next to be blind.”
    “You didn’t cause it, Mary,” he said.
    She just sent him a look, gathered up the soiled napkins and dropped them in the basket at the end of the table.
    “I can finish the rest of this,” he said. “You should go to bed.”
    She smiled at him. “I’m not tired. Tonight was a very successful evening, don’t you think?”
    “Thanks to you.”
    His sister acted as the heart of Hillshead. Everything ran perfectly because she was at the core of the house, planning, organizing, ensuring he and his father were comfortable.
    Didn’t she want her own home? A question he’d never asked and one startling him now. She had never given any hint of wanting a husband or a family, but shouldn’t she?
    Perhaps if she weren’t so involved in running Hillshead she could devote herself to her own life.
    “I want you to take Father to Bute for the waters.”
    She turned to him, her eyes widening. “Bute?”
    He nodded. “People come from all over Scotland to stay at the hotel. The water comes from a mineral spring. It will be good for him.”
    She folded another napkin, the task evidently requiring her full attention.
    “I