Read In Your Wildest Scottish Dreams Online
Authors: Karen Ranney
In Your Wildest Scottish Dreams
To all the workers and road crews who labored so intensely on first the street outside my house and then the water drainage system in my subdivision. There were days when I despaired of ever hearing anything but beep, beep, beep, and the deafening cacophony of jackhammers.
But you taught me patience and dedication. Because of you I will cherish the peace of each day much more now.
Excerpt from Scotsman of My Dreams
When you each came into the world, I marveled at the miracle that created you. I held you in my arms and knew I would cherish you until the breath left my body.
Now I must bid farewell to all three of you at once.
The Almighty has indeed challenged me this day.
I know you go on a great adventure and do so with eagerness and enthusiasm. The Highlands offer less opportunity to you of late. I know this and mourn the circumstances of your leaving even as I know you will do honor to the MacIain name.
When someone asks me about my sons, I’ll speak proudly of you. My eldest son, I’ll say, remained in Scotland, a few days’ journey away. But one of my sons traveled to England to make peace with the conqueror, while the other set sail for America.
You will have children of your own, each of them carrying the MacIain blood and name. Tell them about our history, how we dreamed of an empire. Tell them about the place from which we came, a corner of Scotland known for its men of greatness and nobility.
Mention your mother, if you will, who bravely relinquished her sons to the future.
The Almighty has not given us the power of
foresight, but I cannot help but think years from now your children and your children’s children will be proud MacIains, as formidable as their ancestors.
Love sometimes means sacrifice, and I feel that truly on this day. I sacrifice you to honor, to your heritage, and to a future only you can create.
Go with God, my darling sons. May your dreams be realized and may He always protect you.
Anne Summers MacIain
Scotland
June, 1746
July, 1855
Glasgow, Scotland
G
lynis had planned this encounter with such precision. Everything must go perfectly. All that was left was for Lennox to come into the anteroom.
A few minutes ago she’d given one of the maids a coin to take a message to him.
“I don’t know, Miss MacIain. He’s with those Russian people.”
“He’ll come,” she said, certain of it.
The girl frowned at her.
“Really, it’s all right. Go and get him, please.”
She could understand the maid’s reluctance. Lennox was an excellent host while his father was away in England. This ball was held in honor of the Camerons’ Russian partner, a way to offer Count Bobrov, his wife, and daughter a taste of Scottish hospitality. Hillshead, Lennox’s home, was lit from bottom to top, a beacon for all of Glasgow to witness.
She took a deep breath, pressed her hands against her midriff and tried to calm herself. She wasn’t a child. She was nineteen, her birthday celebrated a week earlier. Lennox had been there, marking the occasion by kissing her on the cheek in front of everyone.
The anteroom was warm, or perhaps it was nerves causing her palms to feel damp. Her spine felt coated in ice and her stomach hurt.
When was he going to arrive?
She pressed both palms against the skirt of her gown, a beautiful pale pink confection her mother had given her for her birthday. Pink roses were braided through her hair. A pink and silver necklace of roses was draped around her neck, and she fingered it now.
The anteroom wasn’t really a separate room but a small area off the ballroom and accessible to the terrace stretching the width of Hillshead. A curtain hung between the door and the ballroom.
They would have enough privacy here.
He’d be here in a few moments. Lennox was too polite and honorable to ignore her request.
Had she worn too much perfume? She loved Spring Morning, a perfume her mother purchased in London. The scent reminded her of flowers, rain, and the fresh rosebuds in her hair.
Her hands were trembling. She clasped them together, took deep breaths in a futile effort to calm herself. She clamped her eyes shut, rehearsing her speech again.
Her whole life came down to this moment. She woke thinking of Lennox. She went to bed with one last glance up at Hillshead. When he called on Duncan at their house, she made sure to bring him refreshments, amusing Lily and their cook, Mabel, with her eagerness. When they met in the city, she asked about his latest ship, his father, his sister, anything to keep him there for a few more minutes. At balls she sometimes danced with him, trying hard not to reveal how much she adored him when in his arms.
The tips of her ears burned and her cheeks flamed. She would melt before he reached her, she knew it. She pressed the fingers of both hands against her waist, blew out a breath, then closed her eyes and envisioned the scene soon to come.
She should be reticent and demure, but how could she be? It was Lennox. Lennox, who held her heart in his hands. Lennox, who smiled down at her with such charm it stole her breath.
Lennox was tall and strong, with broad shoulders and a way of walking that made her want to watch him. There was no more handsome man in all of Glasgow.
Suddenly he was there, stepping into the anteroom. Turning slowly to mitigate her hoop’s swirling, she faced him.
He wore formal black, his snowy white shirt adorned with pin tucks down the front.
His black hair was brushed straight back from his forehead. Intelligence as well as humor shone in gray-green eyes the color of the River Clyde. A stranger might think life amused him. Yet from boyhood he’d been intent on his vocation, fascinated with anything to do with ships and the family firm.
His face was slender with high cheekbones and a square jaw. She could look at him for hours and never tire of the sight.
“Glynis? What is it?”
She took a deep breath, summoned all of her courage, and approached him. Standing on tiptoe, she placed her hands on his shoulders, reached up and kissed him.
He stiffened but after a second he kissed her back.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on as he deepened the kiss. She hadn’t been wrong. She thought kissing Lennox would be heavenly, and it was. If angels started singing she wouldn’t have been surprised.
Long moments later Lennox pulled back, ending the kiss. Slowly, he removed her arms from around his neck.
“Glynis,” he said softly. “What are you doing?”
I love you
. The words trembled on her lips.
Tell him. Tell him now.
All the rehearsing she’d done, however, didn’t make it easier to say. He must feel the same. He must.
“Lennox? Where have you gone?”
The curtains parted and Lidia Bobrova entered the anteroom. She glanced at the two of them and immediately went to Lennox’s side, grabbing and hanging onto his arm as if she’d fall if he didn’t support her.
Lidia was as frail as a Clydesdale. Tall and big-boned, she had a long face with a wide mouth and Slavic cheekbones. Did Lennox think she was pretty?
The girl had been introduced to her as the daughter of Mr. Cameron’s Russian partner only an hour earlier. Lidia had barely glanced at her, dismissing her with a quick, disinterested smile, the same treatment she was giving Glynis now.
“What is it, my Lennox?”
My Lennox?
“My father wishes to speak to you.” She fluttered her lashes at him. “He mustn’t be kept waiting. You know there’s something important he wishes to discuss with you.” She patted his sleeve. “The future, perhaps?”
Glynis pressed her hands against her midriff again and forced herself to breathe.
Lidia was clinging to Lennox, and all he did was glance down at her.
The Russian woman’s gown of green velvet was too heavy for a Scottish summer. Gold ribbon adorned the split sleeves and overskirt and was threaded through Lidia’s bright blond hair. Her hoop skirt was so large it nearly dwarfed the room, but she still managed to stand too close to Lennox.
Surely no unmarried girl should be wearing as many diamonds at her ears and around her neck. Were
the Russians so afraid their wealth would be stolen that they wore it all at once?