asked, ‘Did they ever meet, the
two of them?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She pul ed a face at the memory.
‘So who won?’ he asked astutely.
Riona smiled. ‘I’d say it was about a draw. Sir Hector had a house party of guests up from London one time, and he decided to hold a ceilidh in the Hal . He expected my grandfather, Roddy, and his friends to play at it for free. Wel , my grandfather told him he’d play organ at his funeral for free, but nowhere else, and Sir Hector almost had a fit, then and there.’
‘But did he pay?’ Cameron smiled back.
‘Oh, aye, sixty pounds. After al , he couldn’t do much else,’ Riona pointed out, ‘having promised al his friends a real Scottish night.’
‘That doesn’t sound like a draw, more like a total victory for your grandfather,’ Cameron judged admiringly.
Riona shook her head. ‘No, Sir Hector got his own back. You see, the next few years he sent the builders in for repairs to the estate houses;
somehow our cottage was missed out.’
‘That’s why it’s in such a state,’ Cameron concluded, frowning. ‘And is that why you resent me helping? Because I’m Sir Hector’s great-nephew?’
Riona shrugged. It wasn’t that simple, but she had no inclination to explain the mixed feelings she had towards him.
He didn’t press her, and instead turned to the picnic hamper. He handed her a plate and left her to help herself. With a good appetite, Riona took as much as she thought she’d eat.
He smiled in approval. ‘It makes a real change to be with a woman who isn’t watching her weight al the time.’
For a moment Riona felt ridiculously pleased at being regarded as a woman, then sobered as she wondered if his remark was actual y a veiled insult.
Perhaps he was suggesting she should be watching her weight?
‘I suppose most of your girlfriends are much slimmer—like fashion models you see in magazines,’ she final y responded.
But if he heard the disdain in her voice, he stil smiled, before saying, ‘Why do you assume I have girlfriends in the plural?’
‘I...’ Riona frowned at the question. He was right. She had assumed it. ‘I don’t know. I just imagined you would have, since you’re stil single.’
‘Safety in numbers?’ he joked, before confirming, ‘Yes, wel , I have to admit you’re right. As a thirty-five-year-old bachelor, I’ve inevitably dated a few women in my time. I guess you could describe me as a serial monogamist.’
‘A what?’ she echoed blankly.
‘A serial monogamist,’ he repeated. ‘That means I date one woman after the other, but only one at a time.’
‘Oh.’ Riona wasn’t sure how to take this, but a slanting smile told her he was enjoying disconcerting her.
She decided it was time to drop the subject of his love life and turned her attention back to the food on her plate. She’d helped herself to cold chicken and green salad and it was very tasty, but the heat made her throat dry and she longed for a drink.
He saw her looking enviously at the wine he was sipping and poured her a glass. ‘Here. This stuff can hardly be classified as alcohol.’
She took the wine offered and tentatively sniffed it before putting it to her lips. It smel ed neither sour like beer nor strong like whisky. Instead it sparkled like crystal and smel ed of sunshine and danced like bubbles on her tongue. It was Riona’s first glass of French champagne and it tasted absolutely delicious.
‘Like it?’ Cameron smiled at her expression.
She nodded. ‘It’s like lemonade for grown-ups,’ she said impulsively and made him laugh.
‘That’s exactly what it is,’ he agreed, pouring himself another glass.
Thirsty, Riona finished her own drink, and he topped up her glass, at the same time warning, ‘Only it isn’t, so I wouldn’t drink too quickly.’
‘But it’s not real y alcohol,’ Riona reminded him what he’d said, and he made a slight face.
‘Wel , yes and no,’ he said, retracting his earlier statement as he
two of them?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She pul ed a face at the memory.
‘So who won?’ he asked astutely.
Riona smiled. ‘I’d say it was about a draw. Sir Hector had a house party of guests up from London one time, and he decided to hold a ceilidh in the Hal . He expected my grandfather, Roddy, and his friends to play at it for free. Wel , my grandfather told him he’d play organ at his funeral for free, but nowhere else, and Sir Hector almost had a fit, then and there.’
‘But did he pay?’ Cameron smiled back.
‘Oh, aye, sixty pounds. After al , he couldn’t do much else,’ Riona pointed out, ‘having promised al his friends a real Scottish night.’
‘That doesn’t sound like a draw, more like a total victory for your grandfather,’ Cameron judged admiringly.
Riona shook her head. ‘No, Sir Hector got his own back. You see, the next few years he sent the builders in for repairs to the estate houses;
somehow our cottage was missed out.’
‘That’s why it’s in such a state,’ Cameron concluded, frowning. ‘And is that why you resent me helping? Because I’m Sir Hector’s great-nephew?’
Riona shrugged. It wasn’t that simple, but she had no inclination to explain the mixed feelings she had towards him.
He didn’t press her, and instead turned to the picnic hamper. He handed her a plate and left her to help herself. With a good appetite, Riona took as much as she thought she’d eat.
He smiled in approval. ‘It makes a real change to be with a woman who isn’t watching her weight al the time.’
For a moment Riona felt ridiculously pleased at being regarded as a woman, then sobered as she wondered if his remark was actual y a veiled insult.
Perhaps he was suggesting she should be watching her weight?
‘I suppose most of your girlfriends are much slimmer—like fashion models you see in magazines,’ she final y responded.
But if he heard the disdain in her voice, he stil smiled, before saying, ‘Why do you assume I have girlfriends in the plural?’
‘I...’ Riona frowned at the question. He was right. She had assumed it. ‘I don’t know. I just imagined you would have, since you’re stil single.’
‘Safety in numbers?’ he joked, before confirming, ‘Yes, wel , I have to admit you’re right. As a thirty-five-year-old bachelor, I’ve inevitably dated a few women in my time. I guess you could describe me as a serial monogamist.’
‘A what?’ she echoed blankly.
‘A serial monogamist,’ he repeated. ‘That means I date one woman after the other, but only one at a time.’
‘Oh.’ Riona wasn’t sure how to take this, but a slanting smile told her he was enjoying disconcerting her.
She decided it was time to drop the subject of his love life and turned her attention back to the food on her plate. She’d helped herself to cold chicken and green salad and it was very tasty, but the heat made her throat dry and she longed for a drink.
He saw her looking enviously at the wine he was sipping and poured her a glass. ‘Here. This stuff can hardly be classified as alcohol.’
She took the wine offered and tentatively sniffed it before putting it to her lips. It smel ed neither sour like beer nor strong like whisky. Instead it sparkled like crystal and smel ed of sunshine and danced like bubbles on her tongue. It was Riona’s first glass of French champagne and it tasted absolutely delicious.
‘Like it?’ Cameron smiled at her expression.
She nodded. ‘It’s like lemonade for grown-ups,’ she said impulsively and made him laugh.
‘That’s exactly what it is,’ he agreed, pouring himself another glass.
Thirsty, Riona finished her own drink, and he topped up her glass, at the same time warning, ‘Only it isn’t, so I wouldn’t drink too quickly.’
‘But it’s not real y alcohol,’ Riona reminded him what he’d said, and he made a slight face.
‘Wel , yes and no,’ he said, retracting his earlier statement as he
Similar Books
