Alexander awakened to find that a lush plant growing from his wine glass. Surely, his eyes deceived him. That small seed couldn’t have grown so much in a few hours!
He rubbed his eyes and rose to examine the plant, but it was no illusion. He could see its roots coiled inside the cup, and it had grown a vine of at least a foot long, one adorned with fleshy dark leaves. There was even a bud tucked beneath one leaf.
Rupert was suitably astonished by the sight of it, but Alexander didn’t explain. He didn’t think the truth would sound plausible.
He halfway didn’t believe it himself. Could Anthea have been right about the old tale and the vine’s habit of growing when the laird courted a wife?
If so, he knew which lady he would court. Miss Goodenham was the most captivating girl he’d met in y
