Tossing his towel on the bed, he moved to his travel trunk and pulled out an envelope. “This came to me in Paris just before I departed. It’s an invitation to work at Glasgow Hospital. Apparently one of their surgeons attended the cardiology lecture I gave and was impressed by the new thinking. He’d like to explore it further in their surgeries. I would be put on an observation period with the potential for residency.”
“That’s wonderful! Congratulations.”
“They want me to come to Glasgow next week for a short interview and tour of the facilities. I thought you might like to come with me. See the city. Spend time together.”
“If that’s what you would like, then I’ll be happy to join you.”
“I want you to come because you want to come.”
Svetlana couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. “Then I’ll come.” His returning smile was all the confirmation she needed in knowing it was the right answer. And not because it was the agreeable answer to her lord and master, but because it seemed the right decision for them. Time together. Time to decide who they would be together in this marriage.
Of course, any conclusions would impact their duties as Duke and Duchess of Kilbride. The lumbering elephant in the room that could no longer be avoided.
“Have you given thought to Thornhill? A residency in Glasgow would take away your time needed here.”
Wynn’s smile faded. He turned and busied himself with stuffing shirts into a drawer. “Bruce Mackie is our estate agent. He’s been helping run this place since Father was here. He’ll keep everything in order unless I’m needed for the bigger decisions.”
“As the duke I think you’re needed here for more than just the big decisions.”
“More than at hospital? Advances are being made every day to save lives through cardiology. I can’t help bring about change stuck on an estate collecting rent.”
Svetlana frowned. “There are responsibilities here.”
“I also have responsibilities to my profession. I can’t abandon one for the other. This is all new to me, trying to balance physician with landowner.” He grimaced as if he couldn’t bring himself to claim the title duke. “We’ll figure it out.”
He may have wanted her opinion on the direction of their life, but now was not the time for an argument. Besides, what would she be arguing for? Both responsibilities were important, and as he said, abandoning one would bring devastation to the other. Unless there was a way for them to coexist. It needed some thought, but in the meantime, they would see what the physicians in Glasgow had to say.
“I’ve been reading over your family and estate history,” she said, shifting topics to regain the easiness they’d had moments before. Before he’d felt cornered. “The MacCallans have been well favored over the centuries. This land is said to have once belonged to the ancient Celtic gods who used it as hunting grounds.”
Wynn laughed as he set his shaving kit on the bureau. Where was his valet to do the unpacking? Then again, knowing Wynn he wouldn’t want the fuss.
“I’d nearly forgot about those stories. Our horse master used to tell us about them, claiming he got them from his old gran who once served as a Druid priestess. Back in the old days before the earth rounded and stags and wolves big as mountains roamed the wild woods. It would take arrows as tough and long as oak trees to bring them down. Where they fell they left valleys.”
“We have similar stories in Russia, but with bears. They, too, were tall as trees.”
“Did you ever see one?”
“Once at the Peterhof Palace. He wasn’t as tall as a tree, but his fur was thick and black like coal. There were also zebras, an elephant, two tigers, peacocks, and a camel. Russian nobility loves extravagance.” Or did. Those days were long over. Whatever became of the poor creatures?
“We don’t have elephants or camels, but I can show you where the king of red stags supposedly fell and all the Druids in Scotland came to mourn him and curse the hag who shot the arrow.”
“What kind of curse?”
“They turned her to the stone of a mountain and now she cries great waterfall tears to create Loch Dunwan. It smells like sulphur. I wouldn’t advise going near it, but the valley is splendid. Come June, the heather is thick enough to walk across. In winter, ice crystals collect on the ferns growing near the river. As the water rushes over them, the ice thickens and drags the branches to the bottom.”
“How beautiful. Seasons paint masterpieces on nature, always changing. Yet remaining the same year after year.”
“I’ll take you to see it once the rain stops.”