“Stop trying to read me.” He was suddenly smiling. “If you do, as a reward I’ll give you a gift. Everything I told you about Fergus and the villagers was true, but I didn’t give up about your Mist Child. I put some thought into it and came up with a possible reason why we both thought she looked so familiar.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to her. “Want to come and see what I deduced?”

“How can I resist, Sherlock?” She took his hand and jumped to her feet. “You’re my host and it’s only polite to let you distract me since you’re being so secretive.”

“Secretive?” His eyes twinkled as he pulled her out of the dining room and down the main hall. “No such thing. That’s entirely your imagination. I’m sharing with you now, aren’t I?” He was pulling her through the main corridor. “And you’re going to be very chagrinned that I was the one who put two and two together before you figured it out for yourself.” He turned a corner as he reached the grand gallery. “After all, you’re the artist.” He turned on the lights in the gallery and threw out his hand in a grandiose gesture toward the far wall. “Though I admit that it was a little difficult to make the connection, you can’t deny that your little lost waif does bear a resemblance to our Fiona.”

“What?” Jane was staring in bewilderment at the portrait of MacDuff’s forebear. “Fiona? I know she’s one of your favorite ancestresses, but you’re really reaching. Despite the fact that the portrait was painted hundreds of years ago, Fiona was a grown woman when it was done, not a child of six or seven. Where do you see the resemblance?”

MacDuff shrugged. “Her smile. The way she holds her head. Yes, the child’s hair is dark and not red like Fiona’s, but the expression has the same liveliness. All I can say is that I was glancing at the photo and all of a sudden, I found myself strolling down here to look at Fiona’s portrait.”

“Because you have a fixation with her,” Jane said flatly. “How long have you been trying to convince me that she looks like me and that must mean I’m part of the MacDuff clan? You even tried to get me to have a DNA test when you knew it probably wouldn’t be conclusive. Give it up. For goodness’ sake, different continents! I believe in choice, and I couldn’t be happier that Eve and Joe chose to adopt me.” She tried to make her tone kinder. “I know I’m supposed to be flattered, but I’d much rather be your friend than one of those portraits on this wall. It would smother me.”