“If that is the case, I’d much prefer if you called me Quinn. I, too, am not inclined toward formality when I can help it.” A silly grin stretched his lips; he couldn’t stop it. There was something about Rowena that caught him off guard and he relaxed around her.
Her blue eyes twinkled like the noon sunlight upon a loch’s surface, sparkling with a kaleidoscope of colors.
“Then I will be Rowena to you,” she replied, the red blush still staining her cheeks. “Oh look! Luncheon!” She nodded at the elegant setting as they entered the dining room.
The long mahogany table in the center of the room was set for only four places near the far end. A matching end piece sat against one wall, laden with dishes of cold turkey, lamb, pigeon, cold pie and ptarmigan, puddings, cheeses, biscuits, jellies,
