you.”
A muscle twitched in
his jaw.“What goes on between Emma and myself, Mrs. Kinnaird, is solely Emma’s
and my business. We owe no one an explanation,” Richard said firmly.
“Of course not,”
Ethel answered. “But I do love the lass like she was my own. You understand why
I am protective of her.”
“I do. And I am very
appreciative of that. I was worried when
Emma relocated to Skye. She has no one here to rely on. But the children told
me about you and I must say that your kindness to them has eased me
tremendously.”
Ethel smiled. “I can
see that you play a major part in their lives. Far greater than what most
uncles would normally do.”
“Richard and I were
friends before I married Robert,” interrupted Emma, walking in with a tray of
delicious edibles and tea. She sat it down on the coffee table. “After our
marriage, Robert got busy in building a new architecture firm of his own so I
had to depend on Richard for most things. He was there, at every precious
moment of the children’s lives.”
“And what is it that
you do, Richard?”
“I head the family
architecture business after my father’s passing,” replied Richard, somewhat
drily.
“Oh, and Robert
didn’t want to be a part of the family business?” Ethel asked curiously.
“Robert always was
independent,” Emma replied. “He was a free thinker. He hated being constrained
to anything. He disliked rules and policies that bound a person. He believed
they were needless obstacles that prevented a person from being creative. That is why he split from the family company
to make something of his own. I liked that about him.”
Ethel watched
Richard. He was quiet and appeared distant. It seemed that it was a sentiment
not equally shared.
Two hours later, she
was sitting in her own parlour evaluating the conversation with Emma and
Richard.
“Theodore,” she said.
“Find out more of Mr. Winston’s architecture business, will you.”
“Yes, Madam,” said
the butler, now retired in his favourite chair in the corner of the room.
She flapped the local
newspaper. “Christopher seems far left out of the local social scene, don't you
think?”
“Ahem,” Theodore
coughed.
“Maybe I should get
him to come over early this spring. Well, the faster he gets here the better.
Have we tried the fracture?”
“We did, My Lady.
Last summer.”
“Oh well. Maybe we
could go with a cold then,” Ethel shrugged dismissively.
“You came out of that
in early winter, Madam.”
“Good, good,” said
Ethel. “Which makes it all the more convincing… and true.”
*****
Emma and Richard
walked along the pebbled beach that skirted Emma’s property. The children ran
ahead playing on the edges of the small waves that splashed against the
shoreline.
Richard carried a
small smile as he watched children from a distant, his eyes often glazed with a
thought. Unconsciously he put a hand around Emma’s slim waist and pulled her
close to him.
Emma loved the feel
of his warm body and gladly tucked herself into it. “What are you thinking?”
she asked.
“It's not a bad place
for the kids,” he said.
She pulled away,
grinning. “Richard Winston, don’t tell me you agree with this move after all
that fuss you created back in London?”
He grinned back. “I
like it. But I can't say I won’t miss you all when I’ll go back to London.”
“When do you go
back?”
“In two weeks.” He
lifted her chin with a finger. “But I will do my best to come over as much as I
can.” He turned towards the house that sat higher than the shoreline. The bay
was also clearly visible from the house and he admired the blue it exuded,
particularly on a good day as this one. “And I was also thinking of making
adjustments to the property. Probably build myself an office. That is if the
owner doesn’t mind.”
Emma laughed as he
put an arm around her shoulders to pull her back to him. “Send me a requisition,
Mr. Winston and I will