Page 84 of Death on a Scottish Train

I couldn’t help but smile.

“If my wife will let go, I’d like to shake your hand,” his father said. “And maybe later, you can help me with this bursitis that is bothering my golf game.”

The father was as tall as Ewan and just as big a presence. He had a white beard, but his hair was the same mix of brown and red as Ewan’s. It was easy to see where Ewan’s good looks had come from; his parents were beautiful.

“Da.” Ewan shook his head. “She is here to enjoy herself.”

I shook his father’s hand. “I’d be happy to chat with you about it. Just find me later on.”

“See, son, she doesn’t mind. There’s a good lass. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Take her and dance,” his mother said. “Oh, and do not forget about the auction. It is all for a good cause.”

I turned to follow Ewan, who crooked his arm again. Since I wasn’t used to wearing a long dress with heels, I took it gratefully.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “They can be a bit much sometimes.”

I smiled. “I thought they were wonderful, and they obviously love you.”

He grunted. “Sometimes a bit too much. My father and I dinnae always see eye-to-eye, but it is has been better the last few years. He seems to be mellowing with age.”

“Don’t we all?” It was funny when I thought back over the things that stressed me out when I was younger. None of that mattered now. With age comes wisdom was a true adage.

“I suppose you are right.”

Five huge crystal chandeliers lent light to the ballroom, the arched ceilings in here had been painted beautifully, and it reminded me of the Sistine Chapel in a way.

“Your family spared no expense when it came to décor, did they?”

He glanced up to see what I’d been looking at.

Once again, he grunted. “Took seven years for them to return that ceiling to its former glory. Da wanted to just paint over it because of the cost. But Mum wouldn’t have it.”

“I’m glad she got her way, it is gorgeous.”

“She usually does—get her way that is.”

“I’m not surprised. Hard heads seem to run in the family.”

He laughed at that. “You are right about that, Doc.”

We hadn’t gone far when I recognized a couple in the corner who appeared to arguing.

“Wait, is that who I think it is?”

Ewan turned to see who I was looking at. “What are they doing here?”

It was a very good question.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I was curious how an accountant and his wife from Sea Isle had landed an invitation among some of Scotland’s most elite. Not that I was a snob about it. I only had an invite because of Ewan. It just seemed odd that after everything that happened earlier in the week with the mistress that the couple was at Ewan’s mother’s gala.

Someone touched my arm.

“It’s me,” Mara whispered.