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“You’re nae helping.”
    Lady Edana rested the embroidery frame on her lap, her eyes unusually dark with worry. “We should call your father back—”
    â€œNae. I will nae throw oop my hands and cry ‘quit’ at the first sign of trouble when—”
    A soft knock came upon the door and MacGill entered, looking flustered. “My lady, we’ve a guest.”
    Ailsa’s heart sank. “Arran.”
    â€œNae, my lady. ’Tis nae the earl, but ’tis—”
    â€œâ€”your cousin,” came a familiar voice from behind MacGill.
    â€œ Gregor! ” Ailsa ran to hug her cousin.
    Of Ailsa’s height plus an inch, and dressed like the man of fashion he strove to be, Gregor Mackenzie accepted her hug with a chuckle and a fond pat on her cheek. “Oh ho, such a happy greeting.”
    She released him, laughing a little, glad to see a friendly face. “You surprised me, that’s all. The weather is nae conducive to casual visits.”
    â€œAh, but I grew up here. A little snow will not stop me.” He tugged one of the curls that rested beside her cheek and then went to greet Lady Edana, who embraced him just as warmly.
    Ailsa smiled as she watched him. On the death of his parents, at the age of twelve, Gregor had come to live at Castle Leod. Since he was close to Ailsa in age andloved the outdoors just as passionately as she, the two of them had become as close as any brother and sister, spending hours hunting and riding and talking. As Ailsa’s sisters were all more than ten years older, having someone near her own age had been a godsend.
    Later, when Gregor reached his majority, he’d left Castle Leod to set up his own town house in Edinburgh, where, to her father’s chagrin, the youth had set about living the restless life of a man-about-town. Ailsa’s father had fumed over what he perceived as his nephew’s profligate lifestyle, and had grown colder to the young man as time passed. But Ailsa had never let her cousin’s excesses color her love for him. When he’d left Castle Leod, she’d missed him desperately, and she was always glad when he visited, especially during hunting season, when the two would ride the moors and glens for hours upon hours.
    His gaze, the same gray as her own, narrowed as he regarded her. “Ah, my littlest cousin, I see you’re still running the huge estate from that too-large desk. What is my uncle thinking, letting you dry into dust behind such a mahogany monstrosity?”
    â€œI fit that desk perfectly, large or nae.” She smiled as she looked him up and down. “My, how fashionable you have become, Cousin Gregor.”
    â€œHe looks quite well, doesn’t he?” Lady Edana said with obvious approval.
    Though short of stature, Gregor was dressed to advantage, not in the exaggerated manner of a dandy, but in a quietly perfect way. From his starched and complex cravat, to his coat of deep blue that fit hisframe without a single crease, to his fashionably knit breeches, he was a sight to behold. Had that arbiter of fashion, the infamous Beau Brummell, still held court in London, he would have approved Gregor’s tasteful attire without hesitation. It was a pity Papa never understood the difference between a dandy and a man of fashion.
    â€œWhy, thank you, my dearest Ailsa.” Gregor gave her a flourishing bow that she imagined would not have been out of place at court. “Coming from you, who rarely notice such mundane things as fashion, that is high praise indeed.”
    â€œWhat of me?” Lady Edana said in a wounded tone. “Does my opinion matter so little?”
    Gregor flashed a droll look at Ailsa before he said with dramatic earnestness, “Ah, most beautiful of all grandmothers, your opinion matters the most. But first, I must know—what dark magic is this? You are younger every time I see you.”
    Lady Edana couldn’t have