“I could come down for a couple of days, Daniel,but I'd like to bring someone.""Someone?" Daniel's senses sharpened. He leaned forward with the cigar smoldering in his hand. "Who might this someone be?"Recognizing the tone, Grant crunched o a corn chip. "An artist I know who's doing some painting in New England, in Winty Point at the moment. I think she'd be interested in your house."She, Daniel thought with an irrepressible grin.Just because he'd managed to comfortably establish his children didn't mean he had to give up the satisfying hobby of matchmaking. Young people needed to be guided in such matters-or shoved along.And Grant-though he was a Campbell-was by way of being family..."An artist...aye,that's interesting. Always room for one more,son. Bring her along. An artist," he repeated, tapping out his cigar. "Young and pretty, too, I'm sure.""She's nearly seventy," Grant countered easily,crossing his ankles as he leaned against the wall. "A little dumpy, has a face like a frog.Her paintings are timeless, tremendous emotional content and physicality.I'm crazy about her." He paused, imagining Daniel's wide face turning a deep puce. "Genuine emotion transcends age and physical beauty, don't you agree?"Daniel choked, then found his voice. The boy needed help,a great deal of help. "You come early Friday,son. We'll need some time to talk." He stared hard the bookshelf across the room. "Seventy, you say?""Close.But then true sensuality is ageless. Why just last night she and I-""No,don't tell me," Daniel interrupted hastily. "We'll have a long talk when you get here. A long talk," he added after a deep breath. "Has Shelby-No, never mind," he decided. "Friday," Daniel said in a firmer tone. "We'll see about all this on Friday.""We'll be there." Grant hung up, then leaning against the doorjamb, laughed until he hurt. That should keep the old boy on his toes until Friday, Grant thought. Still grinning, he headed for the stairs. He'd work until dark-until Gennie.”

“Now, remembering Daniel's blustering description of Grant's weekend companion, Justin controlled a grin. "Daniel mentioned you were bringing-an artist."Grant recognized, as few would have, the gleam of humor in Justin's eyes. "I'm sure he did," he returned in the same conversational tone. "I haven't congratulated you yet on ensuring the continuity of the line.""And saving the rest of us from the pressure to do so immediately," Shelby finished."Don't count on it," a smooth voice warned.Gennie looked up to see a blond woman descending the steps, carrying a bundle in a blue blanket."Hello,Grant. It's nice to see you." Serena cradled her son in one arm as she leaned over to kiss Grant's cheek. "It was sweet of you to answer the royal summons.”

“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.”

“With the organization and brevity of a drill sergeant, she began arranging them to her liking."Alan here..." She took him by the arm and stood him between his parents' chairs. "And Shelby." She nudged Shelby beside him. "Caine,you sit in the foor." She tugged on his hand, until grinning, he obliged her. "And Diana-" Caine pulled his wife down on his lap before Gennie could finish. "Yes, that'll do. Justin over here with Rena.And Grant-""I'm not-" he began."Do as you're told,boy," Daniel bellowed at him,then spoke directly to his grandson. "Leave it to a Campbell to make trouble."Grumbling,Grant strolled over behind Daniel's chair and scowled down at him. "A fine thing when a Campbell's in a MacGregor family portrait.""Two Campbells," Shelby reminded her brother with alacrity.”

“What the hell is all this I read in the papers?""Narrow it down for me," Alan suggested."I suppose it might have been a misprint," Daniel considered, frowning at the tip of his cigar before he tapped it in the ashtray he kept secreted in the bottom drawer of his desk. "I think I know my own flesh and blood well enough.""Narrow it just a bit further," Alan requested, though he'd already gotten the drift.It was simply too good to end it too soon."When I read that my own son-my heir, as things are-is spending time fraternizing with a Campbell, I know it's a simple matter of misspelling. What's the girl's name?"Along with a surge of affection, Alan felt a tug of pure and simple mischief. "Which girl is that?""Dammit,boy! The girl you're seeing who looks like a pixie.Fetching young thing from the picture I saw.Good bones; holds herself well.""Shelby," Alan said, then waited a beat. "Shelby Campbell."Dead silence.Leaning back in his chair, Alan wondered how long it would be before his father remembered to take a breath. It was a pity, he mused, a real pity that he couldn't see the old pirate's face."Campbell!" The word erupted. "A thieving, murdering Campbell!""Yes,she's fond of MacGregor's as well.""No son of mine gives the time of day to one of the clan Campbell!" Daniel bellowed. "I'll take a strap to you, Alan Duncan MacGregor!" The threat was as empty now as it had been when Alan had been eight, but delivered in the same full-pitched roar. "I'll wear the hide off you.""You'll have the chance to try this weekend when you meet Shelby.""A Campbell in my house! Hah!""A Campbell in your house," Alan repeated mildly. "And a Campbell in your family before the end of the year if I have my way.""You-" Emotions warred in him. A Campbell versus his firmest aspiration: to see each of his children married and settled, and himself laden with grandchildren. "You're thinking of marriage to a Campbell?""I've already asked her.She won't have me...yet," he added."Won't have you!" Paternal pride dominated all else. "What kind of a nitwit is she? Typical Campbell," he muttered. "Mindless pagans." Daniel suspected they'd had some sorcerers sprinkled among them. "Probably bewitched the boy," he mumbled, scowling into space. "Always had good sense before this.Aye, you bring your Campbell to me," he ordered roundly. "I'll get to the bottom of it."Alan smothered a laugh, forgetting the poor mood that had plagued him only minutes earlier. "I'll ask her.""Ask? Hah! You bring the girl, that daughter of a Campbell, here."Picturing Shelby, Alan decided he wouldn't iss the meeting for two-thirds the popular vote. "I'll see you Friday, Dad.Give Mom my love.""Friday," Daniel muttered, puffing avidly on his cigar. "Aye,aye, Friday."As he hung up Alan could all but see his father rubbing his huge hands togther in anticipation. It should be an interesting weekened.”

“He's not-" Daniel started to say. He watched a red-tailed hawk land in an oak tree over their heads. "He's not good enough for you."Luce had heard people say that line a thousand times before. It was what everyone always said. Not good enough. But when the words passed Daniel's lips, they sounded important, even somehow true and relevant, not vague and dismissive the way the phrase had always sounded to her in the past."Well, then," she said in a quiet voice, "who is?"Daniel put his hands on his hips. He laughed to himself for a long time. "I don't know," he said finally. "That's a terrific question."Not exactly the answer Luce was looking for. "It's not like it's that hard," she said, stuffing her hands into her pockets because she wanted to reach out for him. "To be good enough for me."Daniel's eyes looked like they were falling, all the violet that had been in them a moment before turned a deep, dark gray. "Yes," he said. "Yes, it is.”