“Now where's this artist?" His eyes darted around the room, landed on Gennie and clung. She thought she saw surprise, quickly veiled, then amusement as quickly suppressed, tug at the corners of his mouth."Daniel MacGregor," Grant said with wry formality. "Genvieve Grandeau."A flicker of recognition ran across Daniel's face before he rose to his rather amazing height and held out his hand. "Welcome."Gennie's hand was clasped, then enveloped. She had simultaneous impressions of strength, compassion, and stubbornness."You have a magnificent home, Mr. MacGregor," she said, studying him candidly. "It suits you."He gave a great bellow of a laugh that might have shook the windows. "Aye.And three if your paintings hang in the west wing." His eyes slid briefly to Grant's before they came back to hers. "You carry your age well, lass."She gave him a puzzled look as Grant choked over his Scotch. "Thank you.""Get the artist a drink," he ordered, then gestured for her to sit in the chair next to his. "Now, tell me why you're wasting your time with a Campbell.""Gennie happens to be a cousin of mine," Justin said mildly as he sat on the sofa beside his son. "On the aristocratic French side.""A cousin." Daniel's eys sharpened, then an expression that could only be described as cunning pleasure spread over his face. "Aye,we like to keep things in the family. Grandeau-a good strong name.You've the look of a queen, with a bit of sorceress thrown in.""That was meant as a compliment," Serena told her as she handed Gennie a vermouth in crystal."So I've been told." Gennie sent Grant an easy look over the rim of her glass. "One of my ancestors had an-encounter with a gypsy resulting in twins.""Gennie has a pirate in her family tree as well," Justin put in.Daniel nooded in approval. "Strong blood. The Campbells need all the help they can get.""Watch it,MacGregor," Shelby warned as Grant gave him a brief, fulminating look.”