* * *
THE CLOCK ON the parlor mantel struck the first of eleven bongs when Vi smothered a yawn and said, “Well, I’m ready to call it a night.” Alba rose from her relaxed position in front of the fireplace and moved to Vi’s side.
“When you hit a brick wall, sometimes the best cure is a good night’s sleep,” Daryl said.
They’d hit a brick wall all right, Nell thought as she hugged her aunt, and then Daryl surprised her by kissing her on the cheek. After dinner, they’d retired to the main parlor, reviewing everything they knew, didn’t know, guessed or speculated.
Vi had even set up one of the whiteboards from Adair’s office so that they could map out everything that had happened along a time line. However, at the end of more than two hours of studying the chronology of events, discussing, and theorizing, they weren’t any further ahead than when they’d started. Reid followed Daryl out of the room. From the corner of her eye, Nell saw the two men pause to talk at the foot of the main staircase. Protection strategies, she thought.
There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Reid expected her to join them so that he could escort her up to her room and “file her away” for the night.
Not happening. To distract herself from the flutter of nerves in her stomach, she moved closer to Eleanor’s portrait. There was a part of her that envied the woman for having a lover who simply swept her away. The old Nell would have been thrilled by that. Recalling her aunt’s comments on Eleanor’s strength, she studied the painting more closely. At first glance, Eleanor appeared the same: beautiful, serene and very happy. But there was no denying the look of determination in her eyes, the lift to her chin.
All Nell needed was half the guts it had taken Eleanor to leave her family and home in Scotland to run away with her true love. Not that she intended to run away with Reid. All she wanted to do was give in to the yearning that had been growing inside her since the first time she’d seen him.
If Eleanor had felt this way about Angus, no wonder she’d risked everything to be with him. Again Nell checked the doorway to the main parlor. No sign of Reid. She glanced back up at the portrait and whispered, “At least you didn’t have to deal with a reluctant lover.”
* * *
REID WAITED UNTIL Daryl had disappeared around the curve of the landing before he turned and walked toward the open door of the main parlor. He’d successfully avoided being alone with Nell since they’d arrived at the castle. Not that the strategy had helped him control his preoccupation with her. While they’d been discussing the case for that last hour, he’d entirely lost the thread of the conversation. Twice.
That wasn’t like him at all. In his job, he couldn’t afford to lose his focus. Even when she wasn’t looking at him, he still felt her in every pore of his being, and he felt that same sense of connection, which bordered on recognition, that he’d felt when they’d stood together beneath the stone arch seven years ago.
The Nell he’d known when he was ten was simple. The Nell he was coming to know was complex. He liked the way she looked—the delicate features, the fair skin, the hair that reminded him of spun gold. He also was coming to like and admire the way her mind worked. The problem was, the longer he was with her, the more he learned about her, the more fascinating she became.
He half hoped that she’d follow them out into the hallway, so that he could escort her safely up to her room and retire to his own. Separation and some distance were what he needed.
Right.
He wasn’t a man who lied to himself. Half hoped were two telling words. There was a part of him that had wanted her to linger in the parlor so that he could be alone with her. Even though it meant playing with fire. Reid shoved his hands into his pockets. That wasn’t like him, either. At least it hadn’t been like him in a long time. Not since he and his brothers had been eight and they’d literally played with some matches they’d found in a kitchen drawer. Their father had been away, their mother working in her office. And she’d left him in charge. Her words had been, “Don’t let your brothers burn down the house—or worse.”
Cam had initiated the disaster by striking the first match. Then Duncan, usually the one to remain on the sidelines, had joined in. Finally Reid had succumbed to the hypnotic power of the bright flames. Their little adventure had progressed quickly from striking individual matches to starting a small blaze in a wastebasket which had severely damaged one wall of kitchen cabinets before the fire department arrived on the scene to put it out.
Even more than the scorched wood, he regretted the look of disappointment in his mother’s eyes.
But he wasn’t eight years old anymore. Dammit. Nell was changing him. There was something in her that tempted him to give in to that streak of recklessness that he suspected he and his brothers had inherited from his father. He wasn’t sure he could resist her any more than he’d been able to resist striking that match on that long-ago afternoon. What he was absolutely certain of was that, if he started this particular fire, disaster lay ahead.
He didn’t move into the room when he spoke. “You’re not ready to call it a night yet.”
“No.” She flicked him a glance, then turned her attention back to the painting. “I want to start looking for the necklace.”
“Tonight?”
“The clock is ticking. And this portrait is part of the story. For years it’s been the only evidence that the sapphires exist. I think there’s something in it that might provide a clue.”
Intrigued, Reid joined her in front of the painting. “Why do you think that?”
“It’s always been called her wedding portrait, but that can’t be what it really is. True, she’s wearing a white dress and there are flowers in her hair. But she and Angus ran away.” Nell gestured to the upper right-hand corner of the painting. “You can see the stone arch that Angus built for her. So she sat for this portrait after they’d been here awhile. In my book, they married onboard the ship that brought them here. I had them renew their wedding vows beneath the arch once it was completed.”
“In celebration of their first anniversary,” Reid murmured.
She turned to stare at him. “You read It’s All Good?”
He picked up a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Several times. I enjoyed it. Their story has always intrigued me, and you captured the heart of it in your book.”
When she said nothing and continued to stare at him, he said, “You seem surprised that I enjoyed it.”
“I’m trying to imagine you reading a children’s story.”
He smiled then. Because he wanted badly to do more than touch her hair, he dropped the strand and turned to the portrait. “Eleanor has always fascinated me. That summer when you and your sisters first showed us this painting and told us her story, my brothers immediately focused on finding the missing jewels. I was struck by the woman.”
He had to wonder if that was because, even then, she made him think of the woman Nell would become. They had the same gold hair, pale skin, delicate features, stubborn chin. And the mouth. Eleanor’s lips were slightly parted as if they were just waiting for a lover’s kiss. His mind slipped back to that moment in the car when he’d been staring at Nell’s mouth and nothing had mattered to him but kissing her. And more.
He could so easily have more. She was standing close enough that, if either of them moved, he would feel the brush of her body against his. If he turned ever so slightly, he could pull her into his arms. She wouldn’t resist, and he could once more lose himself in the explosive heat of her response. Lose himself in her.
He shifted his gaze to the necklace. That was what he should be thinking about. “Perhaps