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"Ignore him," Jamie says. "I'm friendly enough for both of us. And I'm sooooo happy to meet you, Emery."
"Likewise, Jamie."
My sister grabs my wife by the arm. "Let me give you the tour. This house is really a castle, do ye know? Built in the Middle Ages."
"I knew it was a castle, yeah, but Rory hasn't been forthcoming with the details."
No details? I told her its name, and she thought it was funny.
Jamie drags Emery down the hall. "We'll start the tour here."
"Stop," I all but bellow, my voice echoing in the hall. "I will show my wife our home. If you please, Jamie."
"No need to shout at me. Ahmno deaf, Rory."
"Why don't you go to bed?"
Jamie snorts. "Ahmno five years old. It's only seven o'clock."
I glower at her, or try to, but I find I can't pull off the expression with enough sternness to convince anyone.
"All right," Jamie says, her hands raised in surrender. "But I want to talk to my new sister over dinner."
"Fine," I hiss. "Stay down here. The top floor is for myself and my wife alone."
Jamie salutes, clicking her heels together. "Aye-aye, admiral. I willnae step a toe on the third floor, so you and Emery can make all the noise ye want when you're shagging."
I flash her a frown, then tow my wife down the hall.
Jamie and Mrs. Darroch chuckle as they retreat into the vestibule.
"This is the ground floor," I announce. "The house has four levels."
"Cool."
Though I feel as if I might snarl again at any moment, I won't disappoint Emery by refusing to give her a tour of our home. "We have a landline, and every room has a telephone. You can dial out, but you can also ring the kitchen, my office, or the master suite."
Perhaps I march a bit too swiftly as I guide her through the castle, pointing out the rooms on each level, but I can't get rid of the tension inside me. Still, I show her the ground-floor bathroom with its claw-foot tub and a separate shower, then I point out the laundry room, dining room, cloakroom, and exercise room. The dining room opens into the guest wing which, I explain to her, houses bedrooms, bathrooms, the kitchen, and a sitting room. I don't take her down that hallway, though. She glances out every window we walk past, but I'm sure she notices this is not a brightly lit structure. It was meant to be a fortress, not a mansion.
When we head upstairs and reach the next level, I say, "This is the first floor."
"Downstairs isn't the first floor?"
"That's the ground floor," I say, rather proud of myself for not snarling. "This is the first floor."
"But it's upstairs."
"You will adjust to the oddities of castle living."
We march through the great hall. Then we come to the closed door that I'm sure will pique my wife's curiosity.
"At our right is the library, my office," I say. "Inside that is the old study I've converted into a file room."
"Your law office is in your castle?"
"I work from home quite a lot, but I do have an office in Loch Fairbairn. I go there for client meetings."
She comments on the fact that my office door is closed, and I don't offer to show her that room. Every man needs a sanctuary from his wife.
