Edwina

Edwina

by

Patricia
Strefling

Copyright © 2008 written by Patricia
Strefling

Edwina

Smashwords edition

All rights reserved solely by the author.
The

author guarantees all contents are original
and do not infringe upon the legal rights of any other person or
work. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without
the permission of the author. The views expressed in this book are
not necessarily those of the publisher.

Unless otherwise indicated, Bible quotations
are taken from The NLT (New Living Translation). Copyright © 1988,
1989, 1990, 1991, 1993, 1996 by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.,
Wheaton, Illinois.

To my beloved friend Shirley
who always believed in me.

Chapter 1

“B
ut see here. I am who I say I am. Edwina Emily Blair from the
United States. I have the reservations right here. The extra large
suite for two weeks starting today at the Old Waverly Hotel.”
Edwina’s voice cracked. “My sister made the arrangements. There
must be a mistake. This is the third person I’ve spoken
to!”

“And ‘twil be the last,” came a voice behind
her. A strong Scottish brogue. Edwina turned slightly, glad for
anyone who would speak for her. Alone in a foreign country on a
trip she had not planned—nor had wanted to experience—she stood on
tired legs, wishing for nothing more than a bath and a bed.

“Ye see the lass standing ’ere.” He stepped
ahead of her, glancing at his watch.

“Doesn’t match the name I ’ave here, a Miss
Cecelia Giatano and she is not that person, came the stubborn reply
from the bearded man behind the counter. Also a Scot.

“Yes, Miss Giatano is my sister... I...”
Edwina’s voice faded away as the man interrupted her.

Miss Giatano did not appear within the
allotted time.” That room has been given to another party.”

A last-minute emergency had sent her sister,
the one who’d planned this trip, flying off to Italy. Too tired to
say another word, Edwina hoped this man could help.

She recognized him as someone who had flown
on the plane from London to Edinburgh. His handsome appearance had
not been easy to ignore. Women had turned to look at him, but he’d
seemed oblivious to the doting females who flitted by like
bluebirds trying to find a place to land. She’d studied him from
the seat behind. He had been intent on his laptop.

It had been pleasant to
observe him as he pointed out the obvious to the stubborn man
behind the counter who held her destiny in his hands. She loved the
study of human inter- action. One of her few creative gifts, she
noted tiredly. This particular male would provide the perfect
character profile for the book she would write one day. For that
reason alone she made note of his features as her sleepless eyes
tried to focus. He turned slightly, giving her a perfect profile.
Straight nose, perfectly chiseled chin. Green eyes, thick dark
hair, and tall. Very tall. She sighed.
A
study of human nature secretly woven into a fictional story
including mystery, suspense, and romance.
The latter she would no doubt never experience, except
perhaps through the writing of the book.

Shaking the thoughts from her head because
her book and its story were only a dream at this point in her life,
she moved slightly away from the handsome stranger who even now was
speaking on her behalf. He seemed too perfect to touch.

Suddenly her brain felt strange as the world
around her began to fade. Her knees began to wobble and, to her
horror, Edwina slipped to the floor as the black hole became
smaller and smaller until she disappeared inside of it.

* * * * *

“
Ah now, see here, she has
fallen dead away. Ye have pressed the poor lass.” Alex Dunnegin
scolded as he caught the woman just before her head hit the
floor.

The man behind the counter continued with the
long line of travelers that awaited his evil eye and suspicious
nature.

“I have no time for this. I must be about
getting home. I am late already,” Alex mumbled and looked about. No
one came forward, so anxious was each not to lose their place in
the dreadfully long line.

He could not leave the woman to her own
affairs. She undoubtedly was without assistance. He’d heard the
entire conversation with the infernal hotel employee. This one time
he wished he’d ignored his gentlemanly duties allowing her to step
in ahead of him. Alone in Scotland, from the looks of it, most
likely an unmarried lass. And for that he felt a kinship. He too
was unmarried—considered a catch in modern Edinburgh, sought after
by many, but loved by no one.

Bending on one knee he lifted her shoulders
and cradled her head in his elbow, her long, dark hair slung over
his arm. He waited for the color to return to her cheeks. Slowly
she came round and looked up into the face of the stranger and
immediately jerked away from his touch.

Smiling, the Scot helped her stand, steadying
her with a slight touch at her elbow.

“I’m... I’m so sorry,” she blurted out
breathlessly as flashes of heat burnt her face. She lifted a
shaking hand to her temple. “I’m fine now, please... please...” her
voiced failed her as her knees turned watery again. Not sure if it
was the closeness of the handsome stranger or lack of sleep, she
stumbled to the nearest chair and sat down, relieved.

“Stay here while I make a call.” He ordered
before turning his back. He was speaking into his phone.

“Bertilda, has she arrived? Aye. Tell her I’m
on the way.... Tell her not to fly away,” his tone serious “Is
Reardon waiting for me in the car? Aye... good.” He snapped the
phone shut. The wedding suite would have to be secured later.

Edwina saw the hurry in his stride as he
walked back to her. Immediately she wished to release him from his
obligations and said boldly,

“I’m fine. It seems I have found what I
need.” She fished in her purse and pulled out a folded paper and
waved it in the air. “You may be on your way, sir.”

“Ah, so ye think a menu would buy your way
through the line?” his lips turned upward slightly

She looked at the paper in her hand. Indeed
she felt her face warm again as she stuffed a Starbucks menu back
into her purse.

Formidable thoughts raced around in her
brain, threatening to send her to the floor again.

“Come. Ye will be my guest this night,” he
said forth- rightly and reached for her bag.

She started to protest, but with a wave of
his hand he said, “Tis not for you I am offering my services,” he
stated firmly, “but for my own desires. My fiancée who is now
waiting at my home has flown in from Madrid, and I am here.”

“All the more reason to leave me where I
sit,” Edwina stated flatly. “Be about your business, sir. I will be
all right.” She willed her bloodshot eyes to behave and not give
her fears away.

He pulled his small black
bag alongside hers and ignored her request. “My man will take these
to my auto and come back for you. Ye
will
come with me, lass.”

And by the tone of his voice, Edwina knew she
would.

Chapter 2

T
he streets of Edinburgh passed by quickly through the dark
glass of the car. She’d never ridden in a... what did you call
them?... The black cars with shaded windows and champagne that slid
out from a secret compartment when you pushed a little button. Her
mind would not function. It felt like she was the actress in a
movie she’d seen once. Was it Ingrid Bergman in
Casablanca
?

The Scot’s man, Reardon, and her knight in
shining armor spoke. He sat beside her right this very minute. Only
her book would be set in the sixteenth century with a horse instead
of a black limosine.

“Sir, shall I have Bertilda prepare a room
for Miss . . .” The Scot turned to her.

“Edwina Blair from Michigan, in America.”

“Yes, ‘tis known you are from the
states.”

Edwina cringed.
Was it that apparent?
“Alex Dunnegin.”

“Mr. Dunnegin, I don’t know how to thank
you.”

“No need, Miss Blair. Reardon, push on and
make it quick. The lass is weak from lack of food, and by the looks
of it, sleep as well.”

Edwina wanted to laugh out loud. She laid her
head back with her eyes closed because the dizzying scenes passing
by made her sick. She doubted Reardon thought her in need of food,
for indeed she was at least fifteen pounds heavier than the
doctor’s office chart said she needed to be. Of course, she was no
actress, neither in looks nor in body shape, so what was the need
to worry about what people thought?

It was good to be in someone’s hands who knew
what they were about, because she had been forced into this
situation against her will. And from the problems she had
encountered thus far, things would only get worse if left on her
own. Thankful, for she didn’t know why but her instincts told her
to trust this Scot, she relaxed against the back of the soft
leather seat and promptly fell asleep.

What seemed like seconds later, she was
awakened, the motion of the car had stopped. Her heavy eyelids
opened slightly. A sense of activity poked into her senses. What
was it? Where was she? Scotland! She lifted her head and looked
around. Suddenly the door next to her right elbow opened.

“Miss. I shall attend you. Allow me.” Reardon
offered his gloved hand and lifted her from the soft seats. The
tall Scot was not in sight. He had, no doubt, flown on wings to his
beloved. Her feet stepped on crushed stones. The crunch beneath her
black flats sounded loud in the quietness of the late afternoon.
Then her eyes, dull from lack of sleep, widened. They were at a
castle. A beautiful castle. The kind you read about in books.
History books.

“Where are we?” Her soft voice lifted on the
wind that wrapped strands of hair about her face.

“Ye are at Castle Dunnegin, standing on
grounds that have belonged to this family since 1702,” Reardon
said, a proud look on his solemn face.

“Castle Dunnegin?” Edwina repeated dumbly.
“Three hundred years?”

“
Aye, miss. Ye’d be
standing in western Scotland, to be sure.”

Edwina could think of nothing to say, so
shaken was she at the view before her eyes. Distant hills marched
upward softly and down again. The sun, still radiant, was making
its slow descent behind the rolling hills, leaving magical patterns
of faded oranges, pinks, and lavender. Edwina’s legs, though weak,
would not move her from the place where she stood. Never in her
twenty-seven years had she witnessed such beauty—and then only in
travel books.

“Miss... ye’d best be coming in. The wind is
picking up her pace and will be aboot us in no time.”

“Yes, of course,” Edwina whispered.

Her bags were in the arms of the Scot’s man,
and she followed him, turning her head now and again to view the
scene behind her.

“It is a sight for weary eyes, Scotland is,”
Reardon spoke quietly.

“That it is.”

As they entered through the
huge doorway, Edwina’s eyes widened. The foyer was larger than her
entire apart- ment. A finely crafted curved dark cherry staircase
invited her eyes upward. The huge glass multi-colored arched window
at its turn bid her to come up. Perhaps she was too tired to think
clearly. Her hand lifted to touch her temple. Awestruck, Edwina
allowed her gaze to take in the largeness, no...
grandness
of the space
she now stood in. Had it been only yesterday that she was arguing
with her stepsister that she could not possibly get on a plane and
go to Scotland?