Lennox asked, following Glynis out of the parlor. Instead of the garden, she led Lennox to her father’s library. The room was rarely used even five years after her father’s death. Duncan preferred to work in the small parlor rather than here. Yet Lily kept the space perfectly dusted and aired, as if Hamish might walk in any minute, take up his seat in the tufted leather chair, and begin writing at the mahogany desk. Two bookcases, each filled with her father’s favorite books, faced the desk and were framed by twin windows looking out toward the side of the house. There, a flower garden carefully tended by her mother provided a lovely view. If people were kept alive by speaking of them or thinking of them, her father had been immortalized in this library. She closed the door and faced him. “I can’t tolerate any more of it, Lennox. Every busybody in Glasgow is saying how I’ve ruined myself cavorting with you.” “Do you cavort a lot?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye. She sighed.
What do You think about In Your Wildest Scottish Dreams?
