Faith glanced over her shoulder at Daniel and smiled as she filed through to the dining room for supper with the rest of the guests. She was so pleased she had accepted Megan’s invitation and come tonight. Meeting Daniel had made it worth the trip.

When she’d told him she was searching for a job for when she left the army, he’d explained that one of the partners in the local veterinary practice was interested in thermal medicine, and he was collaborating with him on research into cold injury in sheep. And Daniel had promised her an introduction.

They passed through the foyer of the castle, although that term didn’t do the room justice. Wooden stairs rose to a galleried landing and the beamed ceiling of the foyer was high above, the space lit by an ancient cast-iron candelabra dangling on a chain. Crossed swords, shields, spears, and old oil paintings decorated the walls, and she caught sight of a coat of arms over the front door.

At the entrance to the dining room, she paused and puffed out a breath in wonder. Dining room was too tame a term—this was a banquet hall. A huge fireplace blazed halfway down one side of the rectangular room, and a stag’s head decorating the stone canopy above it with flags that she assumed must be the Mackenzie clan colors on either side.

The press of people moved her on, and her heels clicked on the ancient oak floorboards.

Tapestries and huge oil paintings covered the stone walls, and another iron candelabra hung above the long dining table, the light glinting off silverware and crystal glasses. A suit of dull metal armor stood in one corner, a tall grandfather clock in another, the ticking a regular sonorous note that resonated with significance as if it were aware it had marked the passage of centuries.

“Wow, this place is…”

“Old,” Fergus finished for her.

“Living history,” Faith said, correcting him. “And it’s wonderful.” Kindrogan Castle was everything she’d hoped for and more.

Fergus led her to a seat beside his, halfway down the long table with the tall windows at her back and the fireplace facing her. The place setting bore a cream card inscribed with her name inside a border of Mackenzie tartan. That was a memento she would be sure to slip in her pocket before she left.

As she started to pull out the heavy chair, Hew arrived and effortlessly lifted it away from the table for her. Once she sat, he pushed the chair in again, a smile on his lips.

“There you go, lassie.”

When he took the place at her side, a little thrill of possibility ran through her. Their first meeting left her feeling he didn’t like her much, but she was getting a different vibe from him tonight. There was definite interest when she caught his eye now.

Fergus started telling her who everyone was and she tried to follow, remembering some of the names. She took the cherry from her whiskey cocktail and chewed it.

“You like whiskey?” Hew nodded towards her glass.

“Only mixed with something. I couldn’t drink it neat.”

“Ah, we’ll never make a true Scot of you then.” He smiled and sipped his own neat whiskey.

Faith had promised herself she wouldn’t fall for another wealthy man, but Hew was nothing like Liam. She’d only known him for a short while, but it was obvious he wasn’t the sort of man who treated women like playthings.

Once everyone had taken their places, Hew’s eldest brother, Duncan, rose to his feet at the head of the table. “Welcome to our Burns Night supper, my friends. We’ll start the evening with grace, penned by the great man himself.”

Duncan was a tall, imposing man, and at his bidding, the hum of conversation quickly faded. Faith folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes.

“‘A Grace Before Dinner’ by Robbie Burns,” Duncan said.

 

O thou, who kindly dost provide

For every creature’s want!

We bless thee, God of Nature wide,

For all thy goodness lent:

And if it please thee, Heavenly Guide,

May never worse be sent;

But, whether granted or denied,

Lord bless us with content!

Amen.

 

Megan and Naomi supervised as Mrs. Stewart and a couple of teens served everyone with their entrée of Scottish Cullen Skink, a delicious dish of smoked haddock, potatoes, and leeks in a creamy sauce.

The wine flowed and the room grew warm, making Faith’s cheeks flush. “So you manage the family estate,” she said to Hew, remembering what Megan had told her.

“Aye, Kindrogan lands cover just over forty thousand acres of the Cairngorms, and we manage it for the wildlife.”

“You don’t have grouse moors, or whatever it is they like to shoot up here?”

“In my father’s day, we did. Duncan and I have put a stop to that. We’ve moved the focus of the management to conservation.”

The arrival of the main course interrupted their conversation.

“This looks interesting.” She glanced at Hew and indicated her plate. “Haggis?”

“Haggis, neeps, and tatties, or haggis, turnip, and potato to you English.”

Faith tasted the haggis beneath the creamed potato and turnip, delicious in the rich gravy. “Mmm, who made this?”

“Megan and Naomi with Mrs. Stewart’s help. The Mackenzie women know how to cook.”

Faith didn’t add that not only would he not make a Scotswoman of her as she didn’t like neat whiskey, but she would make a very bad Mackenzie woman as well. Cooking was not her forte.

Between mouthfuls, Hew explained his ten-year nature-conservation plan for the estate. As he enthused about the reintroduction of white-tailed eagles to the estate eight years ago and the success they’d had with the breeding program, his eyes glowed with satisfaction.

How had Faith ever thought Hew didn’t talk much? Once she got him on the subject of the estate, he didn’t stop. He was a walking textbook on Scottish wildlife, and his stories were fascinating.

“So right now, we’re working with a research team at Edinburgh University to fit GPS tracking devices to the golden eagles so we can monitor their regional movements. We know where the breeding pairs are during the breeding season, but we had no idea where the young birds were going.”

Faith was so used to being surrounded by soldiers, hearing Hew talk was a fascinating change. He was obviously committed to his work, and she thoroughly agreed with his ethos. In fact, his beliefs about protecting wildlife and the natural habitats on the estate resonated far more with her than soldiering did. She had great respect for the military, but as a veterinarian, it had severely restricted her experience of professional practice. It made her wonder if she’d taken a wrong turn in her life when she joined the army.

She hardly noticed when her plate was removed. It took someone placing a delicious-looking dessert of shortbread, whiskey chocolate, and raspberries in front of her to draw her attention back to the meal.

“Ah,” she said with a sideways glance at Hew. “The shortbread you were stealing earlier, I presume.”

He grinned, making his eyes glow with mischief. “The best shortbread you’ll ever taste, lassie.”

The first time he’d called her lassie, she wasn’t sure she liked it as it sounded more suitable for a child. This time the word rolled off his tongue in his soft Scottish brogue like an endearment. A warm tingle went through her and she held his eyes for a moment.

Yet even his dark brown eyes couldn’t keep her attention when she had dessert in front of her. She took a bite and found he was right.

“Mmm, the shortbread melts in the mouth, and this is how I like my whiskey, blended with chocolate.”

He laughed at that.

Once the meal was finished, the evening really began. Bottles of whiskey and brandy were passed around, and Duncan rose to his feet at the head of the table.

“So, my friends, who has a poem or a song for us?”

Daniel stood, and a few people clapped and words of encouragement rang out. Megan’s husband really was good-looking, the firelight shining on his blond hair, but too much like Liam for Faith’s taste.

“I’ll go first,” he said, “because as you all know, I like to be the center of attention.”

The table erupted with laughter and good-natured ribbing as Daniel grinned, then held up his hands until silence fell.

“‘A Red, Red Rose’ by Robert Burns, dedicated to my wonderful wife, Megan.”

 

O, my luve’s like a red, red rose,

That’s newly sprung in June:

O, my luve’s like the melodie,

That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

So deep in luve am I:

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,

And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:

I will luve thee still, my dear,

While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve!

And fare thee weel a-while!

And I will come again, my luve,

Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.

 

When he finished, applause and cheering erupted. Megan stood, threw her arms around Daniel, and kissed him to more cheers.

A few more people stood and performed poems. It was obvious some practice went into this, as they knew the words by heart and the delivery was excellent.

A young man called Donald rose, his hair shaggy and cheeks flushed. Hew had told her was part of the mountain rescue group.

“‘A Winter Night’ by Robert Burns,” he announced.

 

Blow, blow, ye winds, with heavier gust!

And freeze, thou bitter-biting frost:

Descend, ye chilly, smothering snows!

 

As he paused between verses, someone shouted, “What are you thinking, Don? You’re inviting a blizzard tonight. You mark my words.”

“We’re a superstitious lot,” Hew whispered to her.

A few other people recited poems, and in a pause, Faith leaned towards Fergus. “Are you going to give us a poem?”

“No, but I’ll persuade Dad to sing for us. He’s really good.”

Fergus slipped out of his chair, ran to the top of the table, and exchanged words with his uncle. Duncan stood as Fergus hurried back to take his seat.

“We’ve had a request.” Duncan’s gaze settled on Hew. “Your son would like you to sing something.”

Hew glanced around her at Fergus, pointing a finger. “You rascal. There will be payback.”

“Hew, Hew, Hew.” The chant around the table grew, some people clapping in time, and Faith joined in.

Hew glanced at her askance, then got to his feet. He took a sip of water, cleared his throat, then rubbed his lips with the side of his fist, looking thoughtful. Finally, he raised his hands for quiet.

“All right, my friends. You’ll have your way. I’ll sing ‘Yon Wild Mossy Mountains’ by Robbie Burns,” he said.

The room fell silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire. Faith held her breath, clasping her hands tightly in her lap, tense on his behalf. It had just occurred to her there was no music to follow.

Hew closed his eyes and his chest swelled with his breath.

 

Yon wild mossy mountains sae lofty and wide,

That nurse in their bosom the youth o’ the Clyde,

Where the grouse lead their coveys thro’ the heather to feed,

And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed.

Where the grouse lead their coveys thro’ the heather to feed,

And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed.

 

Goose bumps ran over Faith’s skin, a knot in her chest at the deep melodic sound of his voice. He sang about falling in love in the wilds of Scotland and loving his lassie, not because she was fair or clever, but because of her sweet kindness.

Tears pricked Faith’s eyes, and she found it difficult to breathe. The words of Robert Burns were beautiful, but it was Hew’s amazing voice and skillful delivery that brought the song to life so poignantly.

When he finished, there was a stunned silence for a few seconds before everyone whooped and clapped. People rose and came to Hew to slap him on the back.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Fergus said, bouncing on his seat with excitement.

“He certainly is.” This soft-spoken man seemed to be full of surprises. Maybe she was wrong about him being difficult to get to know. She felt she already understood him better.

After everyone stood and sang “Auld Lang Syne” together, and Faith mumbled her way through it, not knowing the words, people started saying their farewells, some braving the freezing weather to drive home, and others heading upstairs to the guest rooms.

Eventually, the group thinned out until only the family members were left. Faith helped clear the table, and with many hands helping, the task didn’t take as long as she expected.

“It’s started snowing,” Naomi said as they all gathered in the kitchen.

Daniel went to the back door and peered out into the halo of light that popped on. Megan joined him, and Faith could make out flurries of snow.

“We won’t stay, I don’t think,” Megan said to Naomi. “We have a babysitter from the village staying the night with the children, but I’d rather go home now in case it gets worse and we can’t get there in the morning.”

Megan and Daniel donned coats and hugged Duncan, Naomi, Hew, and a sleepy Fergus.

When Megan reached Faith, she kissed her cheek. “I’m so pleased you came this evening. I hope you enjoyed our supper.”

“I did. Thank you so much for inviting me. It’s a wonderful tradition.” Faith returned the kiss.

“Sorry we didn’t get time to talk. You’ll have to come again and we can spend more time together. I’d love to show you around.”

“That will be fantastic.”

Faith wanted to ask Daniel about her introduction to the local veterinarian, but it didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up. They were obviously eager to get home before the weather worsened. In a flurry of cold wind and snow, Megan and Daniel hurried outside.

Once the back door was locked, Naomi turned to her. “Thank you for your help. You go up, Faith. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Hew stood in the kitchen doorway, his arm over his sleepy son’s shoulders, and she realized they were waiting for her.

“I’m sure you remember where your room is, but…” Hew shrugged.

They walked up the stairs abreast, the old wood creaking beneath their feet.

“Go and clean your teeth, laddie.” Hew gently shoved his son on his way. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

“Good night, Faith.” Fergus gave her a tired smile and dragged his feet along the corridor.

Hew led her to her door. “Any plans for tomorrow?”

“I’ve arranged to meet friends at Aviemore for some skiing.”

At her words, his smile faded. Was it possible he wanted her to stay longer, or was she reading him wrong? She wished she hadn’t been so eager to hurry away in the morning.

“The snow should be good there.”

He took a step back, away from her door, then with a nod of his head, turned and followed in his son’s footsteps to disappear into the other wing of the castle, leaving her with a sense that she had lost an opportunity.