Echoes of Edinburgh Read online

  The corners of Shelby’s mouth quirked. “Rough Wooing? Hmm. That’s intriguing.”

  Harrison laughed at her implication. “War was declared on Henry the Eighth in an attempt to force the Scots to agree to a marriage between Henry’s son, Edward, and the infant Mary, our golf club-swinging queen. It was the last major conflict between Scotland and England before the Union of the Crowns in 1603. And here we are,” he said, parking the car on a side street. “Luca’s is only a couple of blocks from here.”

  Considering how low the car sat to the ground, Shelby managed to climb out of the car with uncommon grace with those fabulously long legs of hers. Must be a skill they taught tall young ladies in old Edna what’s-her-name’s charm school. Not wishing to negate his chivalry by leering, Harrison averted his eyes as he closed her door.

  “You may not be a good kidnapper in the traditional sense, but you’re a very knowledgeable and amusing guide.” Shelby hooked her arm through his as they started down the street.

  “Don’t forget handsome. You called me that when you leaned out the window.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I did?” She tugged on his tartan tie, the one she’d presented to him after their visit to the Scotland Shop.

  “Yes,” he said, “but you were delirious at the time.” While holding open the door of Luca’s, he caught the sweet scent of her hair as she passed beneath his arm on the way inside.

  Talk about delirious.

  15

  Shelby took another bite of her Cheeky Chocolate ice cream, savoring the luscious treat. They sat at a table outside the café. “I’ve had lots of chocolate ice cream cones in my life, but this,” she said, holding up her cone like Lady Liberty with her torch, “is the stuff of some serious cravings.”

  “Probably has a lot to do with the fact it’s a family-owned business,” Harrison said. “Full of tradition and pride in making it so good. Want to hear a little history about Luca’s?”

  “Sure do.” She suspected the ice cream’s rich flavor had as much to do with sharing the experience with Harrison, but she’d willingly listen to his little history lessons anytime.

  “Luca Scappaticcio and his wife, Anastasia, came here from Italy in the late 1800s. He became a pastry chef at a hotel where he learned to make ice cream from a Swiss sous chef. By 1908, he’d saved enough money to rent a shop here in Musselburgh, and they named it Luca’s since—let’s face it—it’s much easier to pronounce than Scappaticcio.”

  “Agreed.” She tried to say the name but bungled it in royal fashion before taking another bite. Slurped was more like it. Then she licked around the base of the cone so it wouldn’t drip.

  “Question for you.”

  This man had a lot of questions. Not that she minded. From some people, she might be wary or annoyed, but not from Harrison. “I hope I have an answer. Ask away.”

  “If you hadn’t been able to speak with your dad before he died to know about the envelope for Robert, what do you think would have happened when you found it?”

  She stopped midway to taking another bite and tucked a napkin into the top of her blouse as a bib. “You know, I haven’t ever thought about it.” She watched as he took a generous bite of his Succulent Strawberry. “Honestly? I probably would have tracked Pops down and then had the letter hand-delivered, but I seriously doubt I’d have made the effort to deliver it in person.” After taking another bite, Shelby licked her lips. The expression on Harrison’s face was one of bemusement. “You find that funny?”

  “No, not at all. May I?”

  “May you...what?” Oh, no. She was afraid to look down.

  “Hold still, please.” He skimmed his thumb across the tip of her nose. “You’re wearing Cheeky Chocolate.”

  Shelby touched her nose. “I am?”

  “You were. It’s gone now. Adorable though it is, it might get a little sticky.”

  Her shoulders drooped. “You must think I’m such a slob. I can’t even eat like a grownup without spilling or dribbling my food.” She’d also never felt more like a woman than when she was with Harrison. Granted, he could be a little odd in his predilection for wiping food from her face, but he had this uncanny way of making her thankful the Lord, and her parents, made her halfway pretty in the eyes of the man sitting with her now.

  “Oh, trust me. You’re all grown up, Shelby. If you want the truth, I—”

  She held up one hand. “Maybe you shouldn’t finish that sentence.” As it was, shivers ran through her again and she squirmed in her chair.

  “Why not?” The challenge in Harrison’s eyes made her heart jump.

  “Let a girl have some secrets, Harry.” She took another bite.

  “Tell you what. I’ll stop by the Scotland Shop and pick up a tartan bib for you as a souvenir,” he said. “It’ll serve as a reminder of our time together here in Edinburgh and protect your clothing all at the same time.”

  She laughed. “You’re silly, but I’m messy, so methinks you have a very good idea. You might want to see if they have a bib that matches the plaid of your tie.”

  ****

  Harrison walked with Shelby toward the car after they left Luca’s. He held her hand in an almost possessive way, increasingly reluctant to part her company. Their earlier teasing a thing of the past, both were quiet. He waited for her to speak first, curious as to her thoughts.

  “Have you ever been in a serious relationship before?”

  For better or worse, and besides the fact she’d asked, Harrison wanted to tell her about his past. Walking slowly, kicking a few pebbles along the way and watching them skitter across the pavement, he told Shelby about Tiffany, leaving out nothing. He told her how after the eventual burnout, he’d awakened with the clarity of hindsight that he’d been played for a colossal fool.

  “Were you engaged?” Although Shelby didn’t glance his way, she still held his hand.

  “No, but we dated for two years. Long-distance relationships are difficult under any circumstances, but especially since I travel so much, we only saw one another about once a month at best. I think a lot of people expected the natural progression for us would be marriage. For a few months, I considered the possibility.”

  Stopping beside the car, he paused. “She liked the idea of being in a relationship, but”—he lowered his eyes with an admission that was equally difficult—“even though Tiffany claimed to be a Christian, I never witnessed much of a commitment. Suffice it to say she put an emphasis on the wrong things.”

  Shelby remained silent for a long moment as he helped her into the car. “Why did you break up?” Before he closed her door, she put a quick hand on his arm. “You don’t need to tell me if you’d rather not.”

  He wanted to tell this woman everything she wanted to know, but answering that question was difficult without revealing more about his personal connection with the foundation. He trusted Shelby, but—for whatever unknown reason—he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the Miriam Foundation was named after his mother, and that Harrison Reed sat at the head of its board. All she had to do was Google his name and she’d find it. He’d been surprised she hadn’t already done so. He’d checked out Harmony Lane and found Shelby’s page on the website of her stock brokerage firm the first day he’d met her. Maybe it was a sad fact of the modern age, but it was curiosity and interest that sparked his interest, nothing more. He’d discovered she was an honest-to-goodness dynamo, a rising star in the brokerage firm. Not that he was a bit surprised.

  After he closed the passenger door, Harrison moved around the front of the car, sliding behind the wheel. “Tiffany made it clear she wanted a physical relationship without the benefit of a wedding ring. I had to break it off in order to maintain my sanity, my testimony, and still be a God-honoring man.” He inhaled a quick breath. “I realize that might sound strange since usually it’s the woman saying it, not the guy.”

  Starting the car, he glanced at Shelby as he pondered where to take her next, not wanting the time with her to end. She star
ed out the front window, twisting her fingers in her lap.

  “I think Tiffany wanted the money and the prestige of the foundation more than she cared for me. She worked for one of our biggest contributors, the youngest daughter of a wealthy Atlanta family.” He hoped he hadn’t revealed too much with that information. “I hope you don’t think I sound judgmental.” Maybe he did, but it was the truth.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t. Like you told me once before, you’re being honest, and that’s a very appealing quality. Thank you.” Shelby’s voice was quiet, her manner subdued. “Harry, I have some things I need to do tonight. Do you mind taking me back to the hotel now?”

  “Not at all.” Harrison’s stomach clenched. He hoped what he’d told her hadn’t scared her off in some way. His past wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, by any means.

  The woman beside him deserved the absolute best, and he wanted to be that man for Shelby. He needed to see her again after she left Edinburgh. As much as the need to breathe, he’d make time for Shelby, make it a priority. Scheduling frequent stops in Chicago was well within the realm of possibility with all the traveling he did on the foundation’s private plane. He’d even started to ponder opening a satellite office in the Windy City, something he never would have considered before. Was he crazy or totally out of his mind in love with her? Maybe it was a little bit of both.

  Pulling up to the hotel entrance a few minutes later, Harrison left the car idling, waiting for Shelby’s cue. He already ached at the thought of not spending more time with her tonight. Time was precious, especially since she’d be leaving in only a few more days. The thought sent a sharp, shooting pain through his entire being.

  I don’t want to say good-bye to her, Lord.

  Harrison raised Shelby’s hand, turned it over and planted a light kiss on her warm, open palm. When he felt her shiver, it pleased him. So much he wanted to say, not sure how to say it, or how she’d react. Perhaps it was best if he didn’t walk her inside the lobby tonight. His thoughts were getting carried away, and he’d be better served to remain in the car.

  “You’re quiet again. Care to share?” Hearing the tremor in Shelby’s voice, he knew he needed to reassure her.

  “I’m thinking how blessed I am to know you. Thinking how you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. In every way.”

  Shelby leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “She was a fool to let you go, Harry.”

  A minute later, she was gone, slipping out of the car and disappearing into the lobby of the hotel. Harrison slumped in the seat, staring at the entrance, lost in thought. What just happened? As much as he wanted to run after her, lift her in his arms, and carry her off into the sunset, he could only sit, speechless for once in his life. Unable to even move.

  From the things she said—as well as the things she didn’t tell him—he knew no romantic skeletons hung in Shelby’s closet. She’d told him only two relationships lasted longer than a few months. More or less, she’d been “married” to her career as she’d made her way to the top in her male-dominated office. That single-minded focus had also kept her sweet and protected from men with less-than-honorable intentions. Maybe he shouldn’t be thankful she’d been a workaholic, but he was secretly thrilled.

  Lord, keep her strong and safe from all the circling vultures.

  Pops was right. Shelby was worth every risk and then some. No longer could he deny the depth of his feelings for her. He was completely and utterly in love with a woman he’d known less than a week. Now, perhaps the hardest task of his life lay before him.

  He had to convince Shelby.

  16

  Late Friday Afternoon, Day Seven

  “I hope I’m not just another summer romance to you, Harry.” Shelby’s eyes sparked with passion, making them more beautiful. In spite of what she said, her tone of voice and the way she’d employed his nickname encouraged him. No reason to worry.

  “Enlighten me.” They’d used that expression a few times since they’d met, and it seemed appropriate now. Squinting in the sunlight, Harrison glanced up to the face of the woman at the top of the Ross Fountain in the Princes Street Gardens. “Tell me what I’ve done now.”

  “For one thing, you can stop staring at her. She’s...”

  “Naked and gold. Would you rather I stare at the equally naked, gold nymphets at her feet?” He quirked a brow and pressed his lips into a thin line lest he burst out with laughter. Shelby was even more adorable when she was jealous, especially when she had no reason.

  “No, but it’s good they’re sitting. Covers up...a few things.” Gesturing to them, Shelby rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Naked, gold women make me crazy.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of a statue.” Giving into his grin, he stepped closer. “The nymphs represent the arts, science, poetry, and industry.”

  When she grunted, he laughed. “The celebration of the naked female is typical of classical French design. This statue was shown in the Great Exhibition in London and bought by Daniel Ross, a gun maker and philanthropist. It arrived in Edinburgh in 1872 in over a hundred pieces.”

  “A philanthropist? You don’t say.” Tapping her foot, Shelby frowned. “I hope you won’t get any ideas about naked ladies, gold or otherwise.”

  He’d ignore that comment. “If it helps, this statue’s been called ‘grossly indecent and disgusting’ by some right here in Edinburgh.”

  Tilting her head, she surveyed it. “I wouldn’t say it’s disgusting, exactly. The mermaids below the tier are rather pretty,” she said, her lovely smile emerging. Much better.

  He pushed his hands in his pockets, wanting to mask the fact they were as shaky as his emotions, and rocked on his heels. “We need to talk, Shelby love. You’re leaving in less than two days—”

  “I’m very aware of that. Don’t remind me.” The irritation in her voice tipped him off that she was on edge. She’d been antsy and impatient most of the day, in fact. Even though he felt the same way, he thought he’d done a decent job of masking it. Shelby didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want her to leave. They’d been dancing around each other.

  “You know I want to see you again when we’re both back in the States.”

  “I feel the same way, but maybe what happens in Edinburgh...stays in Edinburgh.” She flinched. “Sorry. That was really corny.”

  “No reason we can’t Skype, Facebook, e-mail, talk on the phone, text, or anything else they’ll invent to stay in touch at a moment’s notice.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and Shelby shook her head. “It’s not the same thing, and you know it. As much as we might want it to be.”

  Frustration settled in his gut. “I can visit you in Chicago. I’d love to see Harmony Lane. Unless you’d rather I don’t come.” He blew out an exasperated sigh and raked one hand through his hair. “I’m certainly not going to invite myself where I’m not wanted.”

  “Stop talking now, please.” She cradled his cheeks between her palms. “Scots believe it’s bad form to express strong feelings in public and demonstrating too much warmth or friendliness is inappropriate. It’s deemed overly familiar and crass.”

  His lips curled. “Says the woman with her hands on my cheeks. In answer to that ridiculous statement you made a minute ago, this isn’t a throw-away summer romance. We both know it.” Slipping both hands around Shelby’s small waist, he drew her close, gratified when she didn’t resist. “You’ve become a very precious person in my life, Shelby Harmon.”

  She made a feeble attempt to push him away. “We’d best leave now, since I’m sure we’re about to incur the wrath of the good people of Edinburgh by exhibiting a blatant display of American impropriety.”

  Harrison’s gaze trailed a leisurely path over her features. “Let them talk,” he murmured, his voice husky as he brushed his mouth over hers. “They half expect this kind of behavior from us, anyway. Might as well give them what they want.” He tightened his hold, loving the feel of her so close, the s
cent of her. “At this moment, I’m extremely proud to be an American. Time for some rough wooing.”

  ****

  She should push him away, stop Harrison from making a public spectacle, but Shelby couldn’t resist him. “Harry…” Apparently, the whispered nickname was all the encouragement he needed. He kissed her again, much more thoroughly than the first time. A deep, soul-dragging, heart-stopping, win-at-all-cost kiss. The man was extremely persuasive.

  With a final, lingering kiss, Harrison stepped back, forcing distance between them. His chest heaved a bit, his breathing ragged. Lifting his shoulders, he gave her a sheepish grin as she tried to recover her emotions. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Well, I do, but I should have shown more restraint. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “You’re not alone, Harry. You’ll notice I didn’t put up any resistance. None at all, as a matter of fact.” Glancing around, Shelby was somewhat appeased to see no one else was nearby to witness their shamelessness.

  “I like wooing you. We’re good together, you and me, but I sure hope you don’t have a guy back in Chicago that you kiss like that.”

  “That doesn’t even warrant a reply.” She crossed her arms and fumed. “Now who sounds jealous? I hope you know I also don’t make it a habit to kiss men in foreign countries.”

  “I think you just did, and I also think it’s a fair statement considering how...”

  She’d started to walk away but spun around on her heel. “Considering how desperate and lonely you think I am? How needy? I sure hope that wasn’t a pity kiss, because—”

  “Raising the white flag here,” Harrison said, putting up one hand. More infuriating was the grin tugging the corners of his mouth upward. “I was only going to say how beautiful you are. Shelby, you’re an amazing, absolutely incredible woman. Everyone else can see it, but for whatever reason, I don’t think you can. The men in Chicago, in Kentucky, and everywhere else on the planet, are fools.”