"And you plan to give her that for her birthday?" a voice called behind him. He didn't look up, but continued to concentrate on the lines and curves he was creating.

"'Tis no wonder that she refuses to see you as nothing more than a brother. Robert, however, needs no coaching in the ways to woo a lady. His gift is worthy of the lady's attention," she said.

"She is my heart's sister. Were she more, I would treat her as such," he said coldly.

"And so would Robert," she said with a smile.

"State your meaning, Elizabeth. I have no time for your games," he demanded darkly.

"All I mean, sir, is that at this very moment, your 'brother' is selecting a gift for Katherine's birth feast that will make her realise what a gentleman he is. She shall stand up and take notice of him. And she will laugh at your drawing," Elizabeth warned him.

"I know my lady better than that, she is a sentimental sort. She has everything; her parents see to that. But sentiment is important to her, more so than things. She will appreciate my gift," he announced.

"Andrew, perhaps you believe in her too strongly. She is only a woman. And a drawing will not suffice," she decided.

"Then do you care to make a suggestion?" he asked.

"A woman's heart holds many secrets, my lord. A suitable place to record such would be a welcomed gift," she said knowingly. "And it would allow for your sentiment to grace the cover."

The sound of a car door being slammed woke Nick from his dream. He could hear a few voices outside, and as he rubbed sleep from his eyes, he groaned as he glanced at the clock. He was supposed to have gone with everyone else to town, so that he could pick out a gift for Cairo.

He had tried to find something months earlier, but she was impossible to shop for. She didn't like jewellery, which was usually the perfect solution for any guy. She wasn't into clothing, not that he would buy her clothes anyway. Everything he could possibly come up with just wasn't right, so he hadn't bought anything. And now it was her birthday, and he didn't have anything for her. And after all that fuss he had made over it…

He dashed downstairs and cornered Meagan, who he was still miffed at. But, if he admitted to one of the guys (or their girlfriends, who would tell them) that he didn't have a gift for Cairo, they'd kill him. Massacre him.

"What did everyone get Cairo?" he asked, desperate to draw some ideas from what the others had thought of.

"Erika, Angela, Stacey and Anna all pitched in and bought her a really nice dress, and a bunch of aroma-therapy stuff. They seem to think that she's stressed. And Kevin, Howie and AJ all got a whole bunch of practical joke stuff for her, so I'd watch my back if I were you. I got her book…It looked pretty good. You know, she is a writer, she must like reading. What'd you get her?" she asked.

"To be announced. What about Brian?" he asked.

"That one I didn't understand. He got her a bunch of balls. Basketball, soccer ball, baseball, volley ball. Why on earth did he get her all that crap?" she asked. Nick thought back and suddenly smiled.

"That was how Kay and I met. I attacked her with a basketball. And then later, B hit her with a volleyball. It's an inside joke now, that she has no luck around balls," Nick explained.

"So what are you going to get her?" she asked.

"Do you mean to say that I haven't already bought her something?" he asked, feigning shock.

"You obviously haven't," she answered.

"Well, I was going to give her a drawing that I did, along with something else, but I've drawn a blank. Help me shop?" he asked. Meagan agreed, and the two of them took off in Cairo's rented car. As they pulled out of the long driveway, Cairo was staring out the window of her library, suffering from writer's block when she saw the two of them together. Frowning, she muttered to herself about sending Meagan home with a black eye, and sadly turned back to the blank computer screen.

* * * *

"This is definitely my kind of place," Cairo declared as yet another fight ended in the two parties buying each other more beer.

"But, Carrie, you hardly ever drink, you light-weight," AJ protested, over the noise from the next table.

"No, I'm normally keeping the five of you crazy Boys from killing each other when you're drunk," she retorted.

"Cairo, behave yourself!" Nick reprimanded.

"No, seriously look around you. This is like a scene out of a movie! Or a novel. You must know that I have to be an observer of human characteristics to write, and this is some prime territory. I could sit here for an hour, and see more examples of real people--good people--than I could anywhere else in the world. I think I'm in love," she declared, reaching for her drink.

"Looks like you've been replaced, Carter!" Brian called.

"Cairo, would you leave me for a pub?" Nick asked jokingly, his sense of humour dulled by the amount of alcohol he had ingested.

"Cairo? That's an outlandish name if I've ever heard one. And your accents - Yanks, are you?" an elderly man who was at the table next to them asked.

"Not me, I'm Canadian. The rest are American," Cairo said, despite her address still incredibly patriotic.

"Same difference, dear. What brings such a group this far from London? I'd think you'd be there, not in this small pub, so far away from tourist attractions," he replied, casually moving to their table.

"My grandmother left me some property," she answered.

"Then you'd be Maggie's granddaughter, the writer. Brickwood is not just some property, dear. You're a modest girl. I like that," he said.

"Brickwood is a very mysterious place," Nick said.

"Oh, aye, secrets haunt that place. And your family's history, child," he said knowingly.

"How do you know my grandmother?" Cairo asked, out of pure curiosity.

"Maggie is a much loved woman in these parts. And your family, the Williamsons, have been around for generations."

"Much loved woman? I was told that she was hated. And it's Williams, not Williamsons," she protested.

"Mrs. Bast was never fond of the woman, even though she was paid a generous wage. Many servants grow to resent their masters. And the name was changed over time, but it originated as Williamson," he said.

"You said that there are many secrets that haunt Brickwood. What sort of secrets?" Cairo asked, intrigued.

"Ah, I should have known that a writer would ask such a question. Don't be stealing my story and putting it in those books of yours," he admonished.

"I won't," she promised. He grinned slowly, then leaned forward to tell his tale.