As soon as I saw it, I knew I needed to frame it and give it to Thane for Christmas. When I’d seen Lachlan’s reaction to the photo of Robyn, it solidified my decision. Under their gruffness, the Adair men were sentimental softies.
Thane’s eyes brightened as he caressed the glass protecting the photo. “It’s beautiful.”
“I thought you could put it in your office, maybe?”
He nodded, looking at me with such tenderness, I cursed the fact that I couldn’t just reach out and kiss him. I cursed it even more when I opened his gift to me. He said it was from him and the kids. They’d given me a gift set of my favorite nail polish, a cashmere scarf in an emerald green that looked great with my hair color … and a gift shaped like a book.
“No way.” I gaped as I unwrapped it, almost afraid to touch it. “This isn’t what I think it is?”
“Lachlan told me about your reaction when you saw it in the library at Ardnoch. The books in there belong to our family. Arro removed all of her favorites years ago. We don’t believe in books filling shelves just to gather dust. They should be treasured and loved. I wanted you to have it.”
Tears burned the back of my eyes as I stroked the cover of the first edition of Gulliver’s Travels that I’d admired all those months ago. “I can’t believe you would trust this to me.”
“I trust my most treasured possessions to you, Regan. Why would I not entrust a book to you?”
I grinned because when he put it like that, I seemed silly. The tears caught in the corner of my eyes, and Thane noted them, his expression so loving, my frustration curled in my fingers and toes. I shoved it down and hugged the first edition to my chest. “I have no words for how much I love this. Thank you.”
The kids broke our intense staring match as they asked questions about the book, and I promised to read them a chapter from Gulliver’s Travels every night. It delighted me they were interested in it.
From there, Thane prepared us a full Scottish breakfast. I looked forward to making Robyn squeamish with a very detailed account of how much I enjoyed my haggis and black pudding (blood sausage). While I’d pretty much eat anything, Robyn couldn’t get her head around what the latter two were made of. Considering the scary things she’d faced in life without batting an eye, it was fun teasing her about her weak stomach.
By the time we got Eilidh and Lewis showered, dressed, and ready to leave for the cemetery, I only had a small amount of time to get ready. Delaying going over to see Mom and Dad any longer would only irritate Mom.
When I eventually arrived next door, Brodan’s charming anecdotes about Hollywood actors he’d worked with and famous people he’d met had Mom in a good mood, so she didn’t notice how late in the day it was. Lachlan was a fortress when it came to Hollywood gossip. It was his business to keep his members’ lives private, so he never spoke about the people he’d worked with.
Brodan had no such qualms. We spent the afternoon laughing at his hilarious and often outrageous stories, waiting for everyone to arrive for Christmas dinner.
To my relief, when Mac arrived, Mom was on her best behavior. Dad and Mac exchanged one of those awkward half man-hug things, reminding me they’d been good friends back in the day. Mom and Mac just shared a nod of hello and exchanged overly polite pleasantries.
It was good. Better than anyone could have hoped for, and Robyn was in a wonderful mood.
In fact, it was such a magical day, the best Christmas I could remember in a long time, that I never suspected it could go so horribly wrong.
The first not-so-pleasant moment was just before dinner was served. Everyone congregated in Lachlan’s sitting area, but I’d gotten up to retrieve juice for Eilidh and Lewis. Dad followed me into the kitchen.
“Now isn’t the perfect time, but I don’t know when will be. Can we talk a minute before everyone sits down to dinner?” He nodded toward the front entrance.
My pulse increased a little, wondering what he needed to talk about in private, but I nodded and followed him out.
The door off Lachlan’s entrance led to a small room where he kept memorabilia from his work as an actor. Awards, props, that sort of thing, all encased in glass and well looked after. However, it was so typical of my sister’s fiancé to keep it hidden away in a room no one ever went into.
Dad stared around for a moment, drinking everything in. Spotting the long broadsword encased in glass by itself, Dad approached it. “Jesus, it’s his sword from The Last King.” He turned to give me a small, awed smile. “I still can’t get my head around the fact your sister is marrying a guy whose movies I actually like to watch.”