Although she might be alone from time to time in the future, she would never be quite as lonely again. There would be a tiny bit of McDermott with her, a portion of his soul, perhaps, and most certainly the memory of his smile, and the sound of his voice. She would always feel cherished, and blessed, and as long as she drew breath, she’d ensure McDermott felt the same.
The house seemed to sigh around her, and in that instant, when the light faded toward gloaming, when the workmen gathered up their tools and began to leave Glengarrow, Margaret Louisa Dalrousie, lately and lovingly named Maggie, felt as if the house embraced her at last.
If there were ghosts here, they were sweet ones, a small delicate shade clutching primroses in a tiny palm, and a fair-haired beauty leading her by the hand. At the end of the lane, a wisp of light, a trick of the eye, made it seem as if the two stood there, looking back at Glengarrow.
Maggie felt a breath on her cheek, the lightest softest kiss of breeze. Then the breeze, too, vanished, accompanied by the faint sound of a child’s laughter.
“What is it, Maggie?”
She turned to McDermott, tears flooding her eyes. “I think we’ve just been given a blessing,” she said. Or perhaps a final farewell.
Reaching up, she wound her arms around his neck, smiling as he bent his head to kiss her.
Author’s Note
Margaret Dalrousie’s painting career is loosely based on that of another Scotswoman, Christina Robertson (1796–1854).
Christina was an artist who, instead of painting the stereotypical Victorian formal portrait, chose to reveal her subjects in poses emphasizing their beauty and accomplishments.
Little is known about how Christina learned her craft. Her personal life is shrouded in mystery as well. All that is certain is she married another artist, and they had eight children, four of whom lived.
Her reputation as a fashionable portrait painter began in England and Scotland. Eventually, she traveled to Russia, becoming the darling of the Imperial Court. St. Petersburg’s Imperial Academy of Arts honored her with membership.
Some examples of her work, housed now at the Hermitage Museum in Russia, can be found online. She was a truly talented artist, especially in capturing light on fabric and in portraying details such as the intricate hairstyles of the day, lace, and the luster of pearls.
The description of pigments and paints used in the nineteenth century was as accurate as I could make it. There were no standard names for colors until the late nineteenth century. One artist’s sapphire might be another’s cerulean. It was true that a great many pigments were poisonous, and too many artists died from exposure to the arsenic found in them. Egyptian Brown really was also called Mummy, and was nothing more than ground-up mummies.
The period from 1846–1852 saw nearly 2 million people leaving Scotland because of the potato blight in the Highlands. The crofters of the Highlands had, for several decades, been forced closer and closer to the sea in favor of sheep. Potatoes could be farmed on small plots of land, and although true famine was a constant prospect, it wasn’t until the fungal disease struck the potato crop that people began to starve.
Some landowners tried to help; some chose to ignore the situation, while others incurred the wrath of the rest of Scotland by giving their crofters a choice—starvation or emigration. They furnished ships to Canada and Australia and offered free passage to desperate people.
The poet quoted in the book was Robert Burns: Address to the Devil.
In 1853, only sixteen Scottish peers were elected to the House of Lords, their tenure in office lasting only for the duration of a session of Parliament.
About the Author
KAREN RANNEY wanted to be a writer from the time she was five years old and filled her Big Chief tablet with stories. People in stories did amazing things and she was too shy to do anything amazing. Years spent in Japan, Paris, and Italy, however, not only fueled her imagination but proved that she wasn’t that shy after all. Yet she prefers to keep her current adventures between the covers of her books. Karen lives in San Antonio, TX, and loves to hear from her readers at www.karenranney.com.
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By Karen Ranney
A SCOTSMAN IN LOVE
THE DEVIL WEARS TARTAN
THE SCOTTISH COMPANION
AUTUMN IN SCOTLAND
AN UNLIKELY GOVERNESS
TILL NEXT WE MEET
SO IN LOVE
TO LOVE A SCOTTISH LORD
THE IRRESISTIBLE MACRAE
WHEN THE LAIRD RETURNS
ONE MAN’S LOVE
AFTER THE KISS
MY TRUE LOVE
MY BELOVED
UPON A WICKED TIME
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A SCOTSMAN IN LOVE. Copyright © 2009 by Karen Ranney. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Microsoft Reader April 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-186885-6
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