Murder Most Studious Page 6

  “But you’re American, though, right?”

  “Yes, I’m from Connecticut. I moved to England to teach at a boarding school near Carlisle. I’ve only been in the UK for a few months now, but I’m enjoying it,” I say, trying not to stare too long into his eyes.

  “And how do you feel about Scotland?” he asks.

  “Well, I haven’t seen much of it so far, but Edinburgh is lovely. I wish I was staying longer. I hope I’ll be able to return sometime.”

  “Are you just here to sightsee, then?” he asks.

  “My friends are here just to have fun, but I’m here to do a little digging into my family history. My dad’s relatives came from Scotland and we’ve been researching them over the last couple of years. I hope I’ll be able to find out more information about them while I’m in the country.”

  “Well, this might be fate then, Alice,” he says, laughing a little.

  “What do you mean?” I ask nervously. Is he somehow related to me? That would be just my luck. Meeting someone I’m attracted to and then finding out we’re cousins.

  “I actually work at the Scottish Genealogy Society.”

  “Are you serious? That’s where I was planning to go in the morning. Are you messing with me?” I ask.

  “I am, as a matter of fact not, ‘messing with you’. I do work there and would be happy to escort you tomorrow morning. It can be a little overwhelming if you’ve never researched this type of thing before. Personally, I find it exhilarating, which is why it’s my occupation.”

  “I would hate for you to miss out on something so exciting,” I say, laughing. “As long as you don’t have other plans.”

  “Nothing important. I would love to help.”

  “Well, okay. That would be fantastic.”

  “I’m sure we won’t have any trouble as long as your surname isn’t Stewart.”

  I give him a look.

  “Oh, no! It’s Stewart?” he asks, laughing.

  I nod. “Will that make it impossible?”

  “It will be fine. There are just quite a lot of Stewarts. We’ll get your bit narrowed down. It might take a little longer is all.”

  “I guess that means I’ll have to come back to Edinburgh. Too bad,” I say, smiling.

  “Cheers to that,” Malcolm says, clinking my glass. “Are you staying nearby or farther out?”

  “We’re not too far from here, right off of the Royal Mile,” I answer. Is he planning on coming back to my room with me? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

  “That’s good. The society is just a few blocks from here. I can swing by yours in the morning or give you the address and meet you there tomorrow.”

  We exchange numbers and Malcolm texts me the address. We agree to meet right when it opens at ten, so we’ll have plenty of time to do research.

  Our table orders one more round of drinks. I usually never drink this much, so by this point I’m a little tipsy. Truthfully, this might be for the best. I have a tendency to over-think things sometimes and I’m sure if I was less relaxed I would make a mess of things with Malcolm, by wondering where this is heading. Instead, I’m relatively calm and enjoying a normal conversation.

  “So how do you all know each other?” I ask, gesturing at Malcolm and his friends.

  “We went to uni together and ended staying in Edinburgh, so we get together regularly to catch up.”

  “But you don’t all work at the genealogy society together?” I ask.

  Malcolm rumbles with laughter. “Oh, no! I’m the biggest nerd of the bunch. Mike coaches rugby. Dylan is a chef, and Lewis is a doctor.”

  “That’s nice that you all still see each other though.”

  “What about you four? You work together?”

  “Yes, we all teach, and live at Ashbourne Ladies College. The three of them have known each other for years,” I say, gesturing at Freya, Samantha, and Cat. “I’m the new girl.”

  “Do you like it?” he asks.

  “Yes, I do. I enjoy teaching and it’s a lovely place to live, especially if you are someone like me who doesn’t crave a lot of excitement.”

  “I prefer a quieter life, myself. Well, except every few months when these blokes drag me out.”

  “Do you have a place around here or do you commute?” I ask.

  “I have an apartment not too far away. I usually walk to work.”

  We continue getting to know each other, chatting about hobbies and our families. He has two brothers and enjoys biking and rugby.

  I feel a little guilty only chatting with Malcolm, but everyone seems to be engaged in conversation with the person beside them, so I guess it’s okay. Freya has her hand on Mike’s arm, so it seems like things are progressing there.

  We stay until midnight, which is a late night for me, but I had prepared myself to stay out later, so this is actually a pleasant surprise. We tell the guys good night and I tell Malcolm I’ll see him in the morning. This causes lots of hooting and hollering.

  “You already have another date?” Freya asks as we walk toward the apartment.

  “Not a date. He’s helping me research my relatives. He actually works at the genealogy society,” I answer. “I saw you getting cozy with Mike.”

  “Unfortunately, he’s a bit too heavy on the brawn and too lite on the brains. He spent the entire time talking about rugby. I don’t want to spend my life like that,” she says, laughing.

  “Lewis is nice, but I don’t want to start something with someone hours away. I’m too old for that,” Samantha says.

  “Here, here,” Cat says, holding up a pretend drink. “I’m too old to be out this late.”

  We laugh all the way back to our apartment. As I’m changing out of my dress, I’m thinking about Malcolm. I’m definitely attracted to him. It could get complicated if we end up dating. I’m probably jumping the gun on this, anyway. For all I know, he’s already taken. And I’m not sure I’m ready to start anything, yet, anyway.

  Chapter 8

  I set my alarm the night before just in case, but I end up waking up way before it goes off. I shower and contemplate the clothes I brought with me. I know this is not officially a date, because Malcolm is helping me research my ancestors, but I can’t help but want to look good. I decide I can really only wear what I was already planning on, which is a pair of jeans and a forest green sweater. I add a pair of ankle boots, which will make walking a lot less comfortable, but they look super cute.

  I follow the map on my phone to the society and arrive a few minutes before ten. Malcolm is already there, waiting by the door. He’s wearing jeans, which is reassuring to me. His hair still looks damp from the shower, and when I get closer to him, I catch a whiff of cedar.

  He smiles when he sees me. “I was a little worried that you might ditch me,” he says, opening the door for me.

  “No way. I would never do that. I really appreciate your help with all of this, especially on a Saturday. There are probably a million things you’d rather be doing,” I say, following him over to a computer area.

  As Malcolm brings up a search page on the computer, I pull out a piece of paper with a list of names from my purse.

  “What’s that?” Malcolm asks, leaning over to look at the paper.

  “My dad sent this list of relatives to me. We’ve traced them back as far as 1884.”

  “I didn’t know you had a list of names. This will help immensely. Let’s see,” he says, and we bring our heads together looking at the list. “So I can look up these names on the computer and it will direct me to texts and articles that contain these names. We might need to do some cross-referencing to make sure we have the correct Stewarts.”

  As I watch, Malcolm types the names in and the computer brings up a list of references to check. He prints the lists off and then I follow him to the library. The library is a vast room, with tall book shelves in three concentric circles. There are two rows of tables and chairs in the center of the room. Most of the light comes from the huge stain-glasse
d windows around the top of the room. It’s quite beautiful.

  Malcolm and I split up the lists, and a little while later, we both come back with a few books. We sit down beside each other at a table and begin flipping through the books.

  “Do you know what sort of information your dad is most interested in finding out?” he asks after a few minutes. “We should probably narrow down our search a bit.”

  “I think just general information. Names, occupations, that sort of thing. I’m sure if I found out we had some royal blood, he’d be very excited.”

  “Okay, well, why don’t we each look through these books and compare anything interesting that we find,” Malcolm suggests.

  We work for a few hours, reading and showing each other anything interesting that we find. I jot down a few pages of notes I think my dad will appreciate and make a few photocopies from a couple of books. When my stomach starts loudly rumbling, I suggest we stop for lunch.

  “I really appreciate this, Malcolm. Please let me take you out to lunch to say thanks,” I suggest, tucking all of my notes back into my bag.

  “That is completely unnecessary, but I would love to spend more time with you. And I know a great place for lunch, just down the road,” Malcolm says, taking my hand. We walk a couple of blocks to a sweet little cafe with high ceilings and plants hanging everywhere.

  We order sandwiches and coffees. We talk and laugh, and I like him so much. Yet, is it crazy to even consider starting something with someone long distance? It’s one thing to date someone for a long time and then do the long distance thing, but starting out this way would be difficult.

  “Maybe this is crazy, but I would really like to see you again before you leave. What are your plans tonight?” Malcolm asks once we’ve finished our lunches.

  “I’m not sure, actually. I’m sure Freya has something planned, but my friends will understand if I do something else,” I say, deciding for once to not over think everything and just do what I want.

  “Well, if you’re sure, I would like to take you out to dinner,” he says.

  “I would love that.”

  “Can I pick you up at seven?” he asks.

  “Sounds perfect. I’ll text you my address,” I say. Malcolm kisses my cheek and I walk back to the apartment we’re staying at, feeling amazing.

  I knock on the door and Cat answers it, still in her pajamas.

  “She’s back!” she yells as I walk inside.

  Samantha and Freya, also still in their pajamas, come out of the kitchen.

  “How was it? Did you guys really just do research all morning?” Freya asks.

  “We also had lunch and we’re going to dinner,” I say. I can’t help keeping the giant smile off of my face. “As long as that’s okay with you guys? I know this is supposed to be a girls' weekend and I haven’t been here at all today.”

  “Of course it’s fine,” Cat says. “This was actually supposed to be a trip for you to do some research and we finagled our way into going with you.”

  “Yeah, if I’d met a bloke that made me smile like you are right now, I’d drop you lot and be with him in a second,” Freya says. “Come sit and tell us everything.”

  Freya, Samantha, and I sit at the table while Cat bustles around in the kitchen making tea. She pours us each a cup and pulls some scones out of the oven.

  “Did you bake these this morning?” I ask.

  “No, I just popped down to a shop and picked them up. Then I warmed them in the oven. I picked up some clotted cream too,” she says, putting a small jar on the table and then sitting down herself.

  “So…?” Freya asks, looking at me expectantly.

  “Well, I met him at the genealogy society where we did research all morning about my ancestors. It was not very exciting. After-wards, I told him I wanted to take him to lunch to thank him and he said that I didn’t need to do that, but he would like to spend more time with me. So we went to lunch. And he said he wants to see me again before I leave, so he asked me out for dinner.”

  “And? Did he kiss you?” Freya asks.

  “No, but we held hands walking to lunch. Am I being crazy to consider starting something with him?” I ask.

  “Do you really like him?” Samantha asks.

  “Yes, I do,” I answer immediately.

  “Then I think you should go for it. We’re not that far away from Edinburgh,” Samantha says.

  “I say, just have fun and don’t think about the future,” Freya says.

  “Do whatever you want, including having another scone,” Cat says, passing me the plate of scones.

  “You’re all right. I always do this. I talk myself out of everything fun. I’ll just see what happens tonight,” I say. “So what have you all been up to this morning?”

  “We had a lie-in, obviously,” Freya says, pointing at her pajamas. “Cat brought us a late breakfast, and we were just finishing face masks when you got back.”

  “I’m free the rest of the afternoon if you have anything planned,” I say.

  “I could really use some shopping,” Samantha says. “It will be much more fun shopping here than in Carlisle.”

  “Yes, I need some new shoes,” Freya says.

  “So, no sightseeing?” I ask, a little sadly.

  “We can see some sights and shop,” Freya says.

  “As long as we make time for tea, I’m happy,” Cat says.

  “Okay, I’m ready to go whenever you are,” I say.

  They hurry off to change out of their pajamas, and I sit at the table drinking my tea. I’m trying not to think about Malcolm and our date tonight, but I can’t help myself. My thoughts go back and forth between imagining how he looks with his shirt off to wondering if I should just call him and cancel.

  I shake these thoughts away and realize if we’re going to be walking all afternoon, I should probably change my shoes. I change out of my boots into some flats and immediately feel this was the right decision.

  Samantha has one store in particular she wants to hit, but other than that we don’t really have an agenda. We wander around town, stopping into stores that look fun, and I’m even able to see a few sights, including Edinburgh Castle. Around three, we stop for tea, to fortify ourselves for another couple of hours of shopping.

  Despite myself, I’m really enjoying this weekend with the girls. I’m not the best at making friends and I was nervous about spending so much time with three women that I don’t know that well, but they’re all so easy to get along with. And we have a lot of fun.

  We’re back to the apartment with plenty of time for me to get ready for dinner. I ended up buying a new dress for tonight while we were shopping. As soon as I tried it on, I knew it would be perfect for my date. It shows a little more skin than I’m used to, but just a little.

  I told Malcolm I would meet him at the front of the apartment building, but he insists on coming up to get me. He says hi to everyone and they send us off. It’s only a little like my parents are watching us leave for prom.

  Malcolm looks gorgeous in a sports coat and sweater. He’s not wearing a tie, which fills me with relief. That means wherever we’re going, it won’t be too stuffy. I enjoy being wined and dined occasionally, but I prefer a more relaxed setting. Especially when I’m first getting to know someone.

  “We’re heading to a restaurant about five blocks away. We can walk or I can get a car,” Malcolm says, after we step out of the lobby.

  “I would rather walk, it’s such a pleasant night. I might need to walk a little slow, though,” I say, looking down at the heels I’m wearing.

  “That’s no problem,” Malcolm says and offers me his arm. “What did you ladies get up to this afternoon?”

  “We did a little shopping and a little sight-seeing. I wanted to do more sight-seeing, but everyone else has already visited Edinburgh before so they were more excited about shopping.”

  “You’ll have to come back for another visit soon and I can show you around.”

  “That soun
ds like fun. What did you do this afternoon?” I ask.

  “Not too much. Mostly caught up on some errands, went to the shop. That sort of thing. There also might have been a short lie-down in there somewhere.”

  “I think that sounds pretty nice. People would be happier if they would take more naps,” I say.

  Malcolm laughs. “I agree.”

  We make our way to the restaurant, chatting easily the whole time. This is one of the best things about Malcolm. I’m comfortable with him. Talking is easy and if there is silence, it’s not uncomfortable.

  The restaurant is in a vast stone building. Although most of the town seems made of stone, so I suppose this is not that peculiar. There are candles and flowers on every table, but the atmosphere is more pub-like than swanky restaurant. Malcolm gives his name and the server seats us at a cozy booth by one of the giant front windows.

  “Do you come here often?” I ask, while we’re perusing the menu.

  “I’ve been here a few times. Enough times to know if you like fish, that’s the way to go. Or the steak.”

  “I’m thinking about the halibut,” I say.

  “That’s an excellent choice. I think I’ll order the sole and we can share a bottle of Chablis. Does that sound alright?” he asks.

  “That sounds perfect,” I say. I hate it when guys try to order for me, but suggesting a bottle of wine that will compliment both of our meals is a nice touch.

  We talk more about what Malcolm’s job entails, and he tells me what my next steps should be in my ancestry investigation. He’s never bossy or condescending, just helpful. He’s also polite to the waitstaff. None of these things are necessarily sexy, but to me they’re important and mean, he’s definitely the type of guy I want to be with.

  The wine is perfect, my dinner is delicious, and I feel amazing. We linger over dinner, sharing a complicated chocolate dessert. By the time we leave the restaurant, I’m hoping the evening will continue.

  “I hate that you’re leaving tomorrow,” Malcolm says as we step outside.