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Authors: Shelley Adina

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“We Scots are big believers in physical fitness.” I grinned at her.

“What do you do when your guests have disabilities?”

“Grannie broke her ankle skating on the lake one Christmas. She slept in what used to be the housekeeper’s room, off the corridor
where Dad’s office is.”

“I meant the paying guests. Aren’t there the equivalent of ADA laws here?”

I stared at her rather like the cow in the road stares at the honking car. She was making noises I didn’t understand. “Sorry?”

“The Americans with Disabilities Act. In the States, guest houses have to have some way to accommodate people in wheelchairs
and whatnot.”

“This isn’t a guest house.”

Patricia gazed at me while a blush colored her face under its tasteful makeup. “I’m sorry. I guess I just assumed that a place
this huge would be paying its way. I can’t imagine what the taxes must be like.”

“Mom,” Lissa murmured. “You’re embarrassing her. Please stop.”

“But I was just—”


Mom
.”

“I hope you’ll be comfortable. Alasdair, if you come with me, your room is just down here.”

I left Lissa to deal with her parents and their strange ideas, and made off down the hall with the cute guy. Who was crushing
on my friend who didn’t want him.

Just my luck. Well, luck could be turned. I’d never met a man I couldn’t have, and there was nothing like a challenge to liven
up the holidays. So what if he was a little older? That meant he was mature. Adult. I mean, stand him next to Tate DeLeon.
I rest my case.

Two doors down, I showed him in. “I always call this the ‘Ducks ’n’ Bucks’ room because of the hunting scenes, but it doesn’t
have an official name.”

“That’s all right. I’d never have been able to sleep in the Queen’s Room, anyway. Her outraged spirit would probably have
me tossed out.”

“Mary had a keen eye for the men, never fear. I doubt she’d toss you.”

“I never read that in history.”

“You never read the right books.” I smiled at him. “Is that what you’re doing? Reading history?”

He shook his head. “Pre-med.”

“Ah. That’s what my dad wants me to do. But I haven’t decided yet.”

“It’s not so bad. You’re taking a term in the States, are you?”

“At Spencer Academy in San Francisco. Shani and Carly are my roommates there. I understand you and Lissa know each other.”

He smiled, as if he was savoring a favorite memory. As if I didn’t know what it was. “We do. I showed her round Edinburgh
a bit last winter while Gabe was working on the film.”

“I didn’t know P.A.’s did that kind of thing.”

“P.A.’s do what they’re told. It was pure luck that she’s such a lovely girl. We had fun. More than fun.”

I bet you did.
“What’s a pre-med student doing in the film industry, anyway?”

“We had two weeks’ break and my cousin set me up with it. The money was better than anything I could have come up with as
a bike messenger or working in a chip shop.”

“And now you’re riding round the country with Gabe Mansfield himself. Nice career move.”

“It’s not like that.” His cheeks reddened. “Look, if it’s not convenient for me to be here, I can go.”

“Of course it’s convenient. We have tons of room, and one more person isn’t going to make a difference. I just wondered…”
I stopped. Where prying was concerned, even I knew my limits.

“What?”

“Why you aren’t going home for Christmas. Don’t you have any family?”

He unzipped his wheelie bag with a sound like a shriek. “Lunch is at one, you said? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Ah. Fine. I could read a No Trespassing sign when a person stuck it in the ground in front of me. “No. Between the girls and
Mrs. Gillie, who does for us, we have everything handled. All you have to do is tell us if you need anything.”

Like a girlfriend, for instance.

But I kept that to myself as I left him to his unpacking and went to find the other woman.

“I think she’s in her room, Mac,” Patricia told me, holding up a Rodarte evening dress that took my breath away. “You don’t
happen to have a steamer, do you? Look at the creases in this.”

“No, but we have an electric kettle that’s almost as good. I’ll get it for you, shall I?”

“No hurry. I’ll come look for it later.”

I found Lissa hiding in her room, as reported. “I thought you’d be with your parents, hearing all about the premiere in London.”
I closed the door behind me and leaned on it.

Lissa looked up from her phone, hit Send, and slipped it in her pocket. “I needed a little time alone.”

“Oh. Sorry.” I turned the door handle and prepared to step out as gracelessly as I’d stepped in.

“No, no, stay. I didn’t mean you. I don’t know what Alasdair has been telling my mom, but she has that face. You know. ‘Curious
parent’ face.”

“‘Tell me everything’ face?”

“Exactly. Except there’s nothing to tell.” She glanced up at me. “Well, nothing recent, anyway. I haven’t heard from him except
for the occasional e-mail since last February.”

“He seems to think there’s some kind of grand
affaire de la coeur
going on. If there isn’t, you’d better set him straight.”

“How am I going to do that?”

I sat on the end of the bed and faced her across a couple of feet of Aubusson carpet. It was getting a little threadbare where
people slid out of bed and put their feet down. “Oh, I don’t know. ‘Alasdair, I like you, but just as a friend’ would be a
place to start.”

“And what if he spoils our whole holiday being mad at me?”

“We pack him in a trunk and send him to—” Hmm. He hadn’t told me where home was. “Edinburgh. Or I could lock him in a tower.
We have four. Surely one would fit the bill.”

“Mac, be serious.”

“Lissa, be practical. It’s not like you’re breaking up with the man. You’re just telling him that rumors of a relationship
with you have been greatly exaggerated.”

“Can’t you tell him?”

Those plaintive blue eyes would make him fall deeper in love with her if she turned them on him. “Then he’d be mad at me.
You’re the one going about kissing people. It’s your responsibility.”

She sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” Then she brightened. “Maybe I should ask Kaz.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “You are a heartless thing. Don’t you know the poor boy is harboring a crush on you the size
of the Spencer playing field? I must say, you know how to collect them. You just don’t know what to do with them once you’ve
got them.”

Her mouth hung open as she stared at me. “You must be kidding. That’s not funny.”

“Perhaps not, but it’s certainly true.” On both counts.

“Kaz does not have a crush on me. He’s my friend.”

“Only because that’s the nice little compartment where you keep him. Ask Gillian. Or Carly. They’ll back me up.”

“You guys are deluded.”

“No,” I said gently. “You are.”

She got up and turned away, pretending to look for something in the wardrobe. “I need to change for lunch.”

Was it just me, or had there been a sale recently on No Trespassing signs?

To:        
[email protected]

From:    
[email protected]

Date:      December 24, 2009

Re:         Merry Christmas

Is your phone turned off? We haven’t talked in a week and that’s just wrong. It feels weird not to be spending Christmas Eve
with you and Danyel and everyone from youth group. No service at our church, no eggnog, no long walks on the beach. Wah!

But Strathcairn is pretty amazing. I shouldn’t whine about what I can’t have when I’m spending Christmas in a castle! Did
you get the pictures I sent? I think I must have filled up your inbox by now. I predicted it would snow, and it did last night.
I was worried my folks wouldn’t make it, but they got here about half an hour ago, along with one of the production people
from
TMW
.

The earl (I just can’t call him Graham, or Your Lordship, so I’m settling for what Carly informs me is the incorrect “Mr.
MacPhail”) has invited a few people from around here in for tea, then we’re going to the 6:30 carol service. There’s a chapel
in the castle, but no one uses it, so we’re all walking to the church. It’s between here and the village and it’s four hundred
years old, can you believe it?

After that I think everyone is going to the local pub for ceilidh dancing and music. Feels funny to go to a pub, but Mac tells
me it’s the happenin’ place. The center of it all. It’s called the Cairn and Crown and it’s really a hotel, with whitewashed
walls and half-timbering and stone. No thatched roof—such a disappointment! Anyway, it’s named after a pile of stones somewhere
around here that marks where one of Mac’s warrior ancestors is buried. There’s history everywhere you look.

Okay, enough babbling. I miss you and everyone in S.B. And since we get to open one present tonight, I’m going to open yours

Love, Lissa xo

chapter 9

C
HRISTMAS EVE. If those two words don’t define
anticipation
, I don’t know what does. When I was little, I used to pester my parents so much about the presents that they finally gave
in and let me open one on Christmas Eve. That took the edge off and I could sleep. I always made sure to open the smallest
one, though. The big ones were for the morning, and had to be built up to.

When I got old enough, my parents distracted me after the evening service by taking me with them down to the pub, where the
music and dancing and singing went on until the wee hours of the morning. I usually conked out by ten o’clock and Dad had
to load me into the back of the car, sound asleep.

There’d be no sleeping for me tonight—not at the pub, anyway.

I ducked under the low lintel and the music and noise rushed out to meet us as the door swung open. Carrie’s brother Lachlan
and the village chemist played their fiddles, someone else had a drum, the local constable played the old upright piano, and
Leon from the post office pumped away at an accordion. Behind him lay a set of small pipes for later.

With a roar, half the crowd toasted us as we came in, and Dad blushed and ordered a round for the house. Well, what else could
he do?

Then Carrie and Lily appeared out of nowhere and grabbed me. “Come on! We’ve got a great table.”

“No, no, wait. Everyone, these are my friends, Carrie Crombie and Lily Vu.” I rattled off the Spencer girls’ names and by
the time I was finished, we’d all fetched up against the table like surf on a beach.

“So these are the California girls,” Gordon drawled. “Are there no ugly ones out there?”

“Why, is that all you can manage?” Terrell poked him in the ribs and guffawed.

Lissa glanced over her shoulder to where Dad was showing her parents to his usual table. “Um, shouldn’t we—”

“’Course not,” Carrie said. “Unless you want to sit with the old folks.”

“They’re not exactly ancient,” Gillian informed her.

“Is that blonde your mum?” Gordon asked Lissa. “She’s putting the wind up the boys’ kilts, that’s certain.”

Only Gordon would see simple introductions as something… not quite socially acceptable.

BOOK: Tidings of Great Boys
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