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Chapter 11

21 December

Nash had hoped to see Ailie at breakfast but Emily informed him both William and his sister were occupied with some issue at the shipyard. Angus Ramsay had departed early, apparently leaving word he would see them all at Hogmanay. So, Nash breakfasted with his brothers, their wives and their hostess, which turned out to be a noisy affair.

After that, he wanted only a moment of quiet before going to town. Retreating to the library, he found the book Emily had recommended to him. The book’s author, John Abercrombie, was a horticulturist, knowledgeable in the use of greenhouses to grow exotics.

The library was well organized and he easily found the book, settling onto one of the blue leather settees where there was good light from an adjacent window. Putting on his spectacles, he became absorbed in Abercrombie’s Practical Gardener and the description of the new ornamental style of greenhouse that afforded the plants more light.

He had only been reading a short while when Martin’s wife flitted into the room, petticoats rustling, sketchbook and pencils in hand. “Would you mind if I draw your likeness while you read? I promise to be as silent as a mouse in the corner.”

“All right,” he said, peering at her over his spectacles. He knew Kit to be a woman of her word and not given to unnecessary chatter.

She took a seat at the wooden table in the center of the room and went to work; he went back to his book, trying to ignore the faint scratching of her pencil on the paper.

After what seemed like an hour, he closed the book and looked up to see Kit smiling. “I am almost done and I can add the last touches later.”

“May I see?”

“Yes, of course.” She reversed her sketchbook and Nash blinked in astonishment. The image was the spit of that in his shaving mirror and without the spectacles.

“An amazing likeness. Am I the last or have you more to do?”

“Oh, I have more. I want each of the couples to have their own page. I have yet to add William to the sketch I did of Emily. I’ve only begun the sketch of Angus from seeing him at dinner. Then there is Ailie. I might do hers last.”

“What about you? Who will draw your likeness?”

“Oh, I did mine first. The mirror in our bedchamber is most accommodating. Self-portrait is the artist’s first subject so I know well my own imperfect countenance.”

“A remarkable talent. As I think on it, the women in the Powell family are all quite remarkable. You are an accomplished artist; Tara sails Nick’s ships as well as any man; and our mother, well, she fell in love with her kidnapper, didn’t she?”

Kit laughed. “When you put it like that, yes, I suppose we are an unusual group. Keep that in mind when you add to our number.” She picked up her sketchbook and pencils, waved goodbye and left.

Nash stared at the smoldering fire, thinking about Kit’s advice. Ailie would fit right in with the Powell wives, but could she be made to want to join them? Would she ever agree to come to London?

He set the book down on the settee so Robbie could find it easily and rose, more determined than ever to finish their work in Arbroath so he could devote himself to winning the Scottish lass.

In his bedchamber, Nash donned the clothes Robbie had worn when in Arbroath and covered them with a plain woolen scarf and a dark greatcoat. His knife was secured at his waist and he carried a small flintlock pistol in the pocket of his coat. He didn’t expect trouble but, ever since Manchester, he vowed to never again leave on a mission unprepared for the worst.

Shortly after Nash finished dressing, Robbie entered their chamber. “Are you finally leaving for town?”

“I am. After luncheon, don’t forget you need to go the library and take up the book I left on one of the settees.”

Robbie patted his coat pocket. “I’ve got my spectacles. By the bye, what book is it? One of the Waverley novels Ailie mentioned?”

“No. It is a book by an esteemed horticulturist.”

“Horticulture? Plants again? It sounds dull beyond belief.”

“To you, perhaps. I found it most interesting. Besides, Emily recommended it to me at breakfast. At one point, Kit wandered into the library to observe me reading. There’s another on the shelf on the geography of Scotland that looked to be a worthy choice, too. As long as we’re here, it might be good to learn something of the local geography.”

“Which, I remind you, is under several feet of snow.”

“Don’t quibble. It will melt in due season. Perhaps I will return to see the heather bloom.” Nash thought of that heather and Ailie lying on a hill overlooking a loch with him beside her. “Yes, I just might.”

Robbie sighed loudly. “Very well. Perhaps I can nod off for a nap. Are you sure you want to miss luncheon?”

“I’ll get a meat pie at one of the taverns. I want as much time in the town as daylight allows.”