Champagne and Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance (39 page)

"My apologies. I meant no offense." Except
that his tone told her he didn't mean a word he'd just spoken. Iain
poured the tea, even though his wary gaze was on her rather than on
the cups before him. "So do ye have any proof of this importance
and why our clan's so different?"

She couldn't risk telling him the true
reason, and yet she had no doubt he'd see through any lies. Iain
seemed far too intelligent and distrustful a man, and she was sure
he'd miss nothing. Best to skirt the truth then, and see if it
would be enough to gain her the access she needed.

"I've found some information regarding the
movement of funds leading up to the revolution and think your clan
may have played a significant role in the transfer. It's that role
that I want to investigate—and the route of the monies. It could be
of considerable historic importance and your clan would have been
key."

Iain sat back in his chair, his legs
stretched out before him as he sipped his tea. "Ye'll pardon my
saying so, but I'm not buying it, lass. The war was centuries ago,
and I'd imagine historians have looked at every aspect of the war,
a dozen times over. So if ye have new information, I'd like to know
what it is."

She couldn't tell him. There was still too
little to go on. Not enough clues. "Honestly, I would love to tell
you, but first I need to know that I'm on the right track."

Iain let out a scoff and shook his head, but
she pressed on, hoping to convince him. "Truth be told, I can't do
this without your help. Everything leads to your clan—to this home
and this land. I can't take the next step without more information.
But I swear, once I'm a bit more certain of what I've found, I'll
tell you everything I know."

It was as honest as she could be for now.
She just hoped it would be enough.

"Son, I probably should've asked ye first,
but I've already promised the lass our help, and truth is I want to
help her. I'd like to know what role our clan played in the
uprising."

Iain reached out and put a hand on his
father's arm with a sigh, his words still holding onto a hint of
his annoyance. "Very well then, if it'll make you happy."

Chapter Two

Iain wondered what Cat was truly up to.
Clearly, she was being less than honest with them, and yet his
father seemed smitten, even inviting her to dine with them for the
evening.

At any other time, he wouldn't have minded
helping her, but his brother had gotten himself into a world of
trouble and the last thing he needed was a snooping historian. If
the tabloids found out the trouble his family was in, they'd have a
field day. Though his reputation as a shrewd businessman was never
harmed by the string of models he dated, his brother's troubles
could have a real impact on his business dealings.

Looking across the table at his father and
Cat chatting like old friends made him want to curse. He couldn't
deny the old man the pleasure, for there was little to make him
happy as of late. It just meant he'd have to keep a sharp eye on
her, and try to make the most of it—for his father's sake.

With dinner over, he got to his feet to
clear the table.

"Here, let me give you a hand." Cat gathered
the dirty dishes from their meal and followed him to the kitchen,
but not before throwing a smile in his father's direction.

Curses.

"I appreciate the help." Iain put the dishes
in the sink, and then took the ones she was carrying. "Listen,
about earlier today—on the road. I'm sorry, aye? I'd have been
happy to change your flat."

She shrugged, tucking a dark curl behind her
ear, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't really give you the chance."

"I nearly killed ye. It left me shaken." By
the gods, he'd played it in his head over and over in an endless
loop since it happened. Despite not wanting her around, nearly
hitting her had left him mortified. "I hope ye'll be more careful
next time. You can't go parking around blind turns like that."

She may have avoided looking at him earlier,
but he now had her full attention, her green eyes locked on his,
fire raging within them.

"Really? You want to
have
that
conversation again?" Her cheeks flushed as she cocked her head
to the side in question. "I can't believe you're still trying to
pin this whole thing on me. Maybe if you weren't driving like a
maniac, you'd have seen me."

He took a deep breath to keep from yelling
and did his best to ignore the throbbing vein at his temple. "I've
driven down that road a million times and could do it blind—but
only if there's no one in the middle of the road. Anyone with a wee
bit of common sense would know you don't park around a turn where
ye'll not be seen. Even with a flat, you certainly could have
driven it another ten feet down the road."

"So now I have no common sense and it was
all my fault? You really are an arrogant jerk." With hands on curvy
hips and her eyes ablaze, she looked ready to unleash her
wrath.

So why was it his lips could do nothing but
quirk into a smile?

"What are you grinning at? Do you think this
is funny? It took me hours to soak the cold and mud from my
skin."

The girl was furious with him, and yet he
could not help himself. Something about her made him want to push
her buttons—all of them. "I wouldn't think ye'd have a hard time
heating up with that temper. Yer cheeks have gone so red, yer
freckles have gone into hiding."

She swore under her breath and then spun on
her heels, stalking out of the room. With a quick jaunt, he caught
up to her, gently grabbing her arm to stop her, not quite ready to
have his fun come to an end. "It'd be a pity to go before you find
what ye're looking for. But please, don't let me stop ye. I'm sure
ye have other ways of finding what ye're after."

"I may need your help for
my research, but if you think I'm going to beg and plead, or kiss
your
wee Scottish arse
, then you're going to be waiting a long time."

A laugh escaped him, despite it all. "I'm
sorry. I was just teasing ye. It's absolutely true—I'm a total
arse."

He saw the internal debate going on inside
that pretty head of hers. She was still furious with him, and yet
there was her research to consider. Or was there more to it? She
was putting up with an awful lot.

His gut told him she was up to something,
but what? Maybe it'd be best to string her along until he could get
more information. So he tried again to get her to stay and to avoid
the tongue lashing he'd get from his father for upsetting a guest,
no matter that he was a grown man.

"I really am sorry. I take full
responsibility for the incident. I was in a hurry, and being
familiar with the road, I wasn't paying as much attention as I
should've been. Truce?"

She let out a weary sigh. "Truce."

***

Iain stared at his laptop screen, cursing
his brother for making such a mess of things. His email back to
Malcolm was harsh, but he'd not mince words when the fool had just
put their entire estate in jeopardy. Things were a mess, and it was
Malcolm's fault—and his father's for being gullible enough to
believe whatever lies Malcolm fed him. Neither their father nor
sister knew that things now verged on the brink of disaster. He'd
try to spare them as long as possible, and with luck, he'd manage
to turn things around before anyone found out.

Cat. It was as if the gods had decided to
play a cruel joke on him. She could be trouble—in more ways than
one. And though she could prove a pleasant enough distraction from
his troubles, she brought out the worst in him. The only other
woman he'd ever antagonized like that was his sister when they were
still children. Yet tonight, he'd barely been able to resist such
games, even though he knew better than to let his guard down.

He knew there was more to her visit than she
was telling him, and with the mess his brother was in, he couldn't
afford to have it leak to the media. His business rivals would
pounce, and his clients would second guess his abilities—as if it
wasn't bad enough that he now had to find the funds to bail his
brother out of his troubles. It didn't sound like the men Malcolm
had involved himself with were the patient and understanding
sort.

As for Cat's research... he gave it some
thought. His clan had always been small in number, even before
Culloden further diminished their numbers. Yet despite their clan
size, they'd yielded a fair amount of influence in the highlands,
and Iain had studied their history enough to suspect what Cat might
be after. She'd mentioned the funds destined for the revolution,
and that was enough to tell him she was looking for the jewels.

Well, best of luck to her. There was no
reason to think his family was connected to the jewels, and others
had certainly gone looking amongst the highland clans, only to come
up empty-handed.

Finding any information on the necklace
would be a long shot, but if she did find it, it might turn out to
be the lifeline he needed. If found on their lands, the jewels
would belong to his clan, even if it was her find.

A knock at his office door had him looking
up. "Da. Are you off to bed then?"

"Aye, in just a bit." He came in and sat
down. "Will you be meeting with the lass again?"

Iain spun his chair around to face his
father. "She's going to come by in the morning to review any
information we have from before and after the time of
Culloden."

His father pinned him with a stern look. "I
hope ye'll be nicer to her this time around. If I hear ye've gone
and chased her off, I won't be happy, Iain. Yer Ma wouldn't have
tolerated you disrespecting any guest of this house, and I won't
put up with it either. Ye hear?"

"Don't go worrying yerself, Da. I promise
I'll try to be on my best behavior and not antagonize her." Iain
gave his father a reassuring smile.

Callum had clearly enjoyed Cat's company.
Too often it was just the two of them knocking about the empty
house, and Iain was usually busy with work to be of any real
company. Luckily, he could get most of his business conducted from
home, even if he did have to travel from time to time.

Not yet done, Callum pulled him from his
thoughts for another scolding. "I hadn't realized ye'd already
met—and by all accounts you weren't much nicer to her then,
either."

Iain had to laugh, recalling the state of
her covered in mud and dripping wet. "Now that wasn't entirely my
fault, though ye're right. I could have been nicer."

Giving her a bit more thought, Iain
continued. "When she spoke to ye... did she say what she was
looking for?"

"Nae. Nothing more than what she said
tonight. Why? What are ye thinking, lad?"

Iain shrugged. "Nothing. I was just curious
is all."

Callum got to his feet. "Just make sure ye
keep yer curiosity honorable, aye? I may be old, and ye may have
been rude, but I'm not blind. There's heat between the two of ye,
so be sure to behave yerself."

"She's pretty, but definitely not my type.
Far too uptight and... scholarly." Iain waved away his father's
concerns, thinking of the proper sweater, her hair tamed up and out
of the way with some fancy twist when it was desperate to escape
and go wild. All she needed was a pair of glasses and a string of
pearls, and she could pass for a librarian.

His father scowled at him, his eyes narrowed
in annoyance. "Aye, ye wouldn't want someone smart and pretty.
Ye've clearly chosen far more wisely in the past."

Iain shook his head with a smile. "Good
night to ye, Da."

With thoughts of highland treasure and
pretty librarians bouncing around his head, Iain headed off to the
library with Duncan lazily trailing behind him. With two levels of
books, a catwalk for ease of use, a comfortable sofa and a large
stone fireplace, this room was easily Iain's favorite.

Duncan sat in front of the fireplace, and
looked at him in question.

"No, Duncan. I'm not building a fire this
late at night."

Duncan responded with a noise that sounded
like a cross between a yawn and yelp, followed by a cock of his
head as his sad brown eyes attempted to guilt Iain into doing his
bidding.

Iain ignored him and wandered to the shelf
where they kept the oldest books.

Duncan barked, and then barked again, the
noise deafening when backed by the lungs tucked in that massive
chest.

"Seriously, dog?"

He got a rapid thwapping of tail in
response. Fully aware the pup would keep bugging him until a fire
was lit, Iain quickly got one going with the knowledge he too would
enjoy it. The nights were cold this far north, even if it was only
October.

With the dog content, Iain wandered back to
the bookshelf housing dozens of books dating back ages and
generations. It had been years since he last went through them, and
though they were in decent shape, he tried not to handle them too
often. When he'd gone through them in the past it wasn't with an
eye for finding anything in particular. Now, however, he'd take
another look, keeping a keen eye out for any clues that might give
up their mystery.

It would likely lead nowhere, but Cat had
his curiosity going, and if he was stuck with her snooping around,
then he might as well make the most of it. The stories he'd heard
regarding the bejeweled necklace had never mentioned his family. So
why did she think his clan had been somehow involved? He supposed
it could be true—or was she looking for something else.

His ancestors had been
loyal Jacobites. Then again, nearly every highland clan had
supported the cause of Bonnie Prince Charlie and had wanted him to
take back the throne. She had found something—but what? And could
the information be trusted? Could
she
be trusted?