“It merits a lifetime of study,” he said ardently, every word sincere.
After shooting him a dismissive glance, her expression turned serious. “You could tell me about Invermackie. I’ve never been there, and I’ve always been curious about it.”
He shook his head in bafflement. “You’re a strange girl.”
She smiled. “A new hairstyle hasn’t changed me that much.”
He smiled back. “So I see.”
She took a sip of white wine. “Is Invermackie like Glen Lyon?”
“Well, it’s a Highland estate, with hills and lochs and a view over the sea, but that’s about as far as the similarity goes. It’s wild and isolated, a glen with a secret harbor looking straight across at the hills of Harris. The river starts with waterfalls high up the brae behind the house, and rushes down from Loch Mackie to meet the sea.”
The brown eyes turned velvety in a way they never did when he tried to seduce her with compliments, damn it. “It sounds beautiful.”
“Aye, it is. When the north wind isn’t howling about your ears and turning them blue.” Actually even in dreich weather, he thought his home was beautiful, but he didn’t expect the opinion to gain general acceptance.
Elspeth made a dismissive sound. “That’s true about the whole of Scotland. We all know the nice days make up for the horrible ones. Tell me more.”
Brody set down his cutlery and stared into space, his head full of the spectacular place where he was born.
“I grew up at Invermackie House. It’s built beside a beach of golden sand, just perfect for a run with a dog or a gallop on a swift horse. If you’re lucky, you’ll see otters and eagles and seals and dolphins. In hidden hollows, ancient trees still grow. There’s a local superstition that if the forest disappears from the estate, the lairds will, too. That gives us a vested interest in keeping it alive. The people of Invermackie in the village and on the crofts are hardy, and there’s sea salt in their veins and in their conversation. The soil is thin, and the land is only good for raising sheep and cattle, but the sea has been generous to us. There’s a fine living in the fishing. If ye ever tried an Invermackie smoked herring, you’d scorn my cousin’s fine trout as second rate.” Brody came back to the moment to see her lips twitch.
“Don’t tell Fergus,” she said.
“I willnae.” Heat flooded his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I seem to be waxing lyrical, and while I rant like a loon, your dinner is getting cold.”
“Thank you for telling me all that.” The eyes she turned on him glowed with interest. “It sounds wonderful.”
“You wouldn’t think that, when the blizzards shriek around the house in January,” Brody muttered, before he recalled his plans to make Elspeth the lady of Invermackie. Perhaps it might be politic to avoid too much discussion of the weather.
“A good excuse to stay inside by the hearth.”
He had a sudden vivid image of Elspeth in the parlor at Invermackie House, with a roaring fire in the grate. The wind might shriek around the rafters like a banshee, but he wouldn’t give a farthing about anything except the bonny woman on his knee. His gut clenched on a longing that was almost painful. He wanted that dream to come true more than he’d ever wanted anything in his hedonistic life.
“Aye, it is at that. May I mention beds again?”
“No, you may not.” Her disapproval was charming. “Tell me more about the house.”
“It’s nae a castle like Achnasheen, but bonny for all that. Old gray stone, mullioned windows that open onto the sea, big, airy rooms paneled in dark wood.” He glanced around his cousin’s dining room, decorated in fashionable gold and green stripes, and smiled. “A few modern notions wouldnae go astray, if I’m honest. The place desperately needs a woman’s touch. My mother wasnae much given to fashionable taste, before she passed away thirteen years ago. My father believed in tradition and liked things to stay as they’d always been.”
“How long have you been the laird?”
“Since I was twenty-three. Two years ago now.”
“Time enough to change the décor.”
“I’m rarely there.”
She frowned. “That’s sad, when you love it so much.”
He did. Every rugged, barren, windswept, gorgeous inch of it. “It’s easier to play the rake in Edinburgh than the laird at Invermackie,” he said, before he remembered that mentioning his roguish reputation wasn’t the best way to promote his suitability as a husband. “The estate is a long way away from everything.”
A long way away? That was an understatement. Invermackie was two days’ ride north of Achnasheen. And Achnasheen was the arse end of nowhere.
“If it’s what you want, it’s right where it needs to be,” she said softly, but with breathtaking certainty. Her wisdom struck him silent, as he wondered if she’d ever see the home he cherished.
On her other side, Donald made a remark about the bad weather. With her habitual good manners, Elspeth turned to reply to her brother-in-law. Without much remorse, Brody admitted that he’d been monopolizing her. Giulia sat next to him, but she and Ugolino were busy making sheep’s eyes at one another.