Macgowan Meets His Match. Annette Broadrick

She would have to write an amusing letter to Basil and let him know how his training had been put to good use.

      Besides, she could visit Edinburgh on her days off and continue her search for Mr. Dumas. As soon as she’d checked in to her room, Jenna had gone through the telephone directory in hopes of finding a listing for him.

      There was none.

      She’d called the telephone company for any new listings or possibly unlisted numbers. If his number was unlisted, she would at least know he actually lived in Edinburgh or nearby. She’d had no luck there, either. However, she didn’t intend to stop looking for the mysterious—at least to her—stranger. She’d hoped to find work in the city, which would make her search easier, but she’d manage.

      Once on the train to Stirling, Jenna thought about her new position. She’d never met an author, published or unpublished. She was curious about what sort of stories he wrote. Perhaps he’d fought in one of the wars and was sharing his experiences. She might find his writing fascinating.

      On the other hand, Sir Ian might be a terrible writer. Maybe that was why he was so brusque. Perhaps he was the sort of person who preferred to blame others for his own shortcomings.

      What was really important, though, was that she was in Scotland and had a job.

      When the train neared the station, Jenna gathered her rather cumbersome bags in preparation for getting off. She had gotten rid of most everything she owned before she came to the U.K. She’d had more than one twinge of regret to see the furniture and furnishings she’d carefully acquired go to strangers. However, the money she received from the sale helped her to feel more secure about her leap into the unknown.

      One of the commuters helped with her third bag when she stepped off the train. She thanked him and turned to scan the area. Several people waited to board as others disembarked. Once the train pulled away, Jenna stood alone on the platform.

      She had no idea how long a wait she would have for the housekeeper and wished she had a description of her.

      Jenna pulled two of the bags behind her, the third hanging from a strap across her shoulder, and headed toward the depot.

      “You must be Jenna Craddock,” a cheerful voice said. Jenna paused and looked around. A tall, raw-boned woman of indeterminate age came toward her from the parking lot. “I’m Hazel Pennington, Ian’s housekeeper. I apologize for not being here when you arrived. I got behind some slow traffic, which is frustrating enough without needing to be somewhere on time.” She took one of the bags and started back toward the stairs.

      Jenna hurried to catch up. “How did you know which train to meet? I didn’t know which one, myself, until I arrived at the station.”

      As they loaded the luggage into a utility vehicle, Hazel said, “Oh, Ian knew. He checked the train schedule and chose the one you’d most likely take. If you hadn’t been on this one, I would have waited until the next one.”

      Jenna had many questions about Sir Ian and knew that Hazel would probably be able to answer them. However, she didn’t want to appear too anxious about working for him. She sat quietly and listened to the housekeeper as she pointed out various historical sights along the way.

      “If you haven’t visited Stirling before, you might enjoy touring the William Wallace Monument.” Hazel nodded toward a tower in the distance. “The only way up is by stone circular stairs, so you’ll want to be in shape for the climb.”

      When Jenna saw the castle high on an escarpment, she made a sound of awe.

      “The castle is worth visiting, as well. There’s a military museum there in addition to the carefully restored rooms. There’s a cathedral nearby that has become a tourist favorite, as well.”

      Jenna’s excitement grew as she considered the age of so many historic places in the U.K. compared to the relatively newly settled Australia.

      She eagerly tried to see everything they passed on their way north. The scenery was breathtaking. She could hardly wait to begin exploring. She would continue to look for a listing for Mr. Dumas wherever she went. Surely, she would find him sometime.

      Hazel turned into a driveway no more than half an hour’s drive from Stirling, catching Jenna off guard. From the way Ms. Spradlin talked, Jenna had expected to find an isolated home deep in the countryside.

      They followed a narrow lane, and from the way it nestled into the earth, it no doubt had been in existence for centuries. Massive trees marched along on each side, their bare branches arching over like a canopy. Jenna could only imagine their beauty in the summer, covered with green foliage.

      She noticed a large and, no doubt, ancient wall that followed beside the lane. If only those stones could talk, she thought. They must have witnessed a great deal of history.

      The lane made a sharp turn at the end and Hazel drove through an arched opening. Jenna saw a paved parking area in front of an honest-to-goodness castle. This is where Sir Ian lived?

      “This is absolutely wonderful,” Jenna said reverently, looking around her. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to have grown up in such a place. It would be like living in an enchanted castle.”

      Hazel opened the back of the utility vehicle without glancing around. “It’s an ancient piece of rubbish, is what it is, but we’re all quite fond of it. It takes a fortune to maintain, of course. There’s always something to repair. If it isn’t the vintage wiring, we’re sure to find a leaky pipe somewhere.” She pulled Jenna’s luggage out and set it on the ground.

      Jenna grabbed the handle of the heaviest one and leaned to place the one with the shoulder strap over her shoulder. Hazel stopped her. “I can get these two,” she said, matching her actions to her words. She carried the bags as though they were empty.

      Jenna followed her to the entrance. Two beautifully carved doors were set in an arch similar to the one they had driven through. Jenna gazed at the massive example of skilled craftsmanship in awe. Once they entered, Hazel set the luggage into a recessed area near the door and said, “We’ll leave these here for now. Ian is eager to speak with you. Let’s not keep him waiting. Afterward I can show you where you’ll be staying.”

      Jenna looked up and blinked. The lofty ceiling of the great hall soared at least thirty feet. Family crests and giant oil paintings of people from earlier times covered the wide expanse. Immediately beneath the ceiling, fan-shaped windows filled both ends of the four-walled entrance room.

      Hazel paused in front of a closed door near the wide staircase that curved to the second floor. Jenna could almost see the graceful women who had lived here sweep down the stairs in their beautiful gowns.

      The vision abruptly disappeared when Hazel opened the door and said, “Ms. Craddock is here.”

      “Good,” a rumbling voice said. “Send her in.”

      Chapter Three

      Jenna caught herself holding her breath. She consciously took another deep breath, exhaled and stepped into the room. Once inside she discovered a book-lined library that would cause an avid reader—which she was—to mentally salivate with anticipation. She almost chuckled at the idea of living in a castle with access to such a treasure trove of riches. The idea sounded too good to be true.

      She took in everything in the few seconds before she looked at the man standing in front of the fireplace. Once she focused on Ian MacGowan, the room faded into the background. The commanding energy emanating from him inexorably drew her eye.

      She immediately revised her mental picture of a white-haired elderly curmudgeon. Sir Ian bore no resemblance to such a person. For one thing, he was far from old—somewhere in his early to mid-thirties, she guessed. Instead of white hair, his was light brown. It curled riotously over his forehead and around his ears like a young child’s—and looked so soft and silky, her palms itched to touch it.

      She had a sudden vision of a laird standing there, the family crest mounted above the mantel. Golden