The Great Scot. Donna Kauffman
as she was in the hall, she cast her gaze through the open door opposite the loo and took a look about. There were two large dormer-style rooms up here on the third floor of the central section of the house. One dormer was ready for guests, but naturally the room Letty was examining still needed some finishing work. He hadn’t been planning on getting that one completed in time for the opening, but had to get the WC functioning as he had a party of four booked into the finished dormer.
“It’s quite the mission you’ve undertaken here, Dylan.”
“Aye, that it is.”
“More than a man alone could hope to complete, but I see you’ve put yourself fully to the task.” She shifted her gaze back to him, and that dreaded look of affectionate concern clouded her expression. If there was one thing he hated more than the villagers poking their nose into his business, it was their collective concern over his bachelor status. Her bottom lip pursed as she tilted her head slightly and said, “I would imagine all the hard physical labor you’ve put into this place since your return has been somewhat therapeutic for you.”
Here we go. “I suppose it has been,” he responded honestly, knowing his return home had been both therapeutic and cathartic for him. Just not for the exact reasons Mrs. Dalrymple assumed. “Is there anything specific I can do for ye?” he asked, striving to sound patient. He gestured to the broken pipe. “As you can see, I have my hands full, and with less than a fortnight until my first guests arrive, I—”
“What did you think of that nice Erin MacGregor? Wasn’t she a breath of fresh air?”
Dylan swallowed a groan, and perhaps a few more swear words as well. It was a vain wish indeed that the villagers would leave him alone. “She seemed very pleasant, but I—”
“Pleasant? Why she seemed a wee bit more than simply pleasant, wouldn’t you agree?” She gestured to his face. “Ye’ve a bit of something still on your cheek there.”
Sighing, Dylan shifted to look in the mirror, ignoring the rather frightful sight of himself as he dutifully cleaned off the rest of the splattered gunk. But it was hard to ignore the weary fatigue etched on his face. It was no wonder his sudden appearance had startled Ms. MacGregor so badly. Och, but he needed to rid himself of her image, and of the busybody, Letitia Dalrymple, and get back to the task at hand. “I appreciate you stopping by,” he said, turning toward the stairs, hoping she’d take the not-so-subtle hint.
“Why didnae ye take her up on her offer? A man out here alone, under such an immense burden, and here she was, bright and lovely as a spring day, offering you a solution to your woes.”
Dylan’s gaze narrowed, but he refrained from asking her just exactly what woes she was referring to. “I appreciate your concern, but the bed and breakfast will open as projected and we’ll do just fine without her offer.”
Letty was not so easily swayed. “She was such a bright young thing, don’t you think? With all the younger generation heading off to Edinburgh or Inverness, it was refreshing to have a lovely new face in town.”
Dylan tried not to grind his teeth as he forced a smile. “Be that as it may, as you can see, I’m quite busy with the demands here. I’ve no time to have my head turned.”
“Darling lad, every man has the time for that. You can’t lock yourself up in this monstrosity forever.” Letty placed a hand on his arm. “I know how difficult it must be, starting over. Why I was just telling Doris the other day how hard it must have been for you to come back here and start over all alone, having had such an exciting and fulfilling life end with such tragedy.” She patted his sleeve. “But move on we must. You canno’ pour all your heart into this place, Dylan. She’s a demanding mistress, aye, but she canno’ keep ye warm on the long winter nights. Dinnae close yourself off so. We’re all here to help, ye ken. We’ve only your best interests at heart.”
Dylan briefly covered her hand on his arm, then gently freed himself from her grasp, trying to remind himself that she really did mean well. He just didn’t understand why it was that everyone assumed he needed a woman in his life in order to be happy once again. Not that he minded the concept. Someday. But when the time came, he’d like to think he could handle that particular endeavor on his own. Not as some kind of pathetic village project.
“I appreciate the care and concern, I do, but rest assured that I’m quite content dealing with my concerns here.” He gently ushered her towards the stairs. “Thank you for stopping by,” he went on, following her down the stairs. “Please give my best to Doris and the rest.”
Not one to be steamrolled, Letty halted their progress in the grand foyer. “Perhaps you should come into town. As a businessman now, not to mention our chief, it wouldnae hurt you any to be seen more about the village.”
It was a gentle rebuke, but one he took to heart. Because she was right. He should be a more visible leader, even if the position of clan chief was largely figurative at this point. From a business standpoint alone, it behooved him to be on friendly terms with the villagers. His guests would be spending time in the village shops, and he’d be wise to encourage the shop owners to talk up the bed and breakfast to other passers-through as well. “I’ll do my best.”
Her smile softened and she patted his arm again. “We all want ye tae succeed, Dylan. We know how hard all four of ye work, maintaining Glenshire and all that the Chisholms have worked so hard for. Glenbuie prospers because of your efforts. And it’s with that in mind that I want you to listen to what I have to say about this offer ye’ve so hastily turned down.”
Just when he’d thought this particular skirmish was over. He reined in his impatience, and forced a smile onto his face. “Have yer say then.”
“Only that we’d all benefit from your agreeing to it. In fact, I’ve never seen the town quite so excited about any prospect. It was rather unifying.”
When hadn’t the villagers been a unified lot, Dylan wanted to know, but wisely didn’t give voice to the question. Letty was on a roll now, and obviously on a mission as well. Best to let her say her piece, if he had any hope of getting more work done this day.
“Letting Miss Erin move her television show into Glenshire would be a great boon to us all. Think of the economic boost we’d all receive from such publicity.”
Apparently the villagers were no more immune to the Yank’s charm than he’d been. Fortunately he was the one making the decision here. “Ye canno’ honestly wish to have them descend upon us like a pack of jackals, turning our lives inside out, and all to broadcast us on some crass American—”
“Och, now ye sound like the city snob we all feared ye’d become from too many years spent falutin’ about with all your posh friends. I know better, Dylan. You just want to hide out here and lick yer wounds.” She lifted a hand. “I’m no’ meaning any insensitivity, I’ve only your well-being in mind when I say this, but perhaps it’s time to think on a grander scale, and put the needs of the town, your villagers, your clansmen, before your own.” She squeezed his arm. “More important, though, I think throwing your doors open to Erin’s crew might do you a world of good, yourself.” She finally released him and stepped through the front door he was presently holding open for her. Just outside, she paused and looked back, a soft smile on her face, and a steely glint in her eyes. “She’ll be in town until morning. Do the right thing. For us. And for yourself.”
Chapter 3
“N o, I haven’t given up, Tommy. Yes, I know minutes are money. Yes, this place is worth the extra twelve hours, I promise. I’ll have it sewn up by tomorrow.” Please don’t make a liar out of me, Dylan Chisholm .
Erin disconnected the call with her boss and tossed her phone on the bed, then went to stand in front of the window of her hotel room. From the top floor, she had a lovely view across the village square. The sun had finally set an hour ago but between calls to her assistant and the one from her boss, Erin had missed it. She raked her fingers through her hair and massaged her temples