A Highland Werewolf Wedding - By Terry Spear Page 0,86
speak with Miss Hawthorn before this.”
A bead of sweat broke out on the solicitor’s upper lip. Matching beads appeared on his forehead. “Aye. Mr. Kilpatrick said the lass was coming to Scotland, and he would tell her I wished to speak with her. She vanished after she had arrived, and he was trying to locate her again. He said he didn’t know where she’d disappeared to.”
Elaine folded her arms. “All right, so what if I wanted to sell the properties? Not that I’m saying I want to, but if I did?”
Mr. Hoover cleared his throat. “You can’t.”
Her eyes widened.
He glanced at Cearnach as if he was afraid the alpha would take him to task. “I mean to say that not all the properties can be sold. The keep and Senton Castle must go to your heirs, Miss Hawthorn. No one is permitted to sell off the properties as long as they’re supporting their upkeep. The manors are a different story.”
“Have they incurred any profit? If so, where has the money gone?”
“A bank, Miss Hawthorn.” He stiffened. “You’re quite a wealthy woman. All the money is there. You can have your own accountant verify that the expenses and receipts all are correct.”
She raised her brows, showing a slight upward tilt to her mouth.
Cearnach stared at Elaine as the beautiful she-wolf sat straighter, her lips parted. Her uncle had told her she was the key to his heart, to the treasure. Not in goods, but in land holdings.
She took a deep breath. “Had my uncles planned to settle down here? In Scotland?”
Mr. Hoover shook his head. “They were seafarers. The ocean was their bloodline. They wanted this for you. For the child that neither of them had.”
Tears reappeared in her eyes, and Cearnach took her hand and squeezed it.
Mr. Hoover watched the intimacy between them and pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his brow.
“Why did they want me to mate with Kelly Rafferty, then? Did you know about that?”
He swallowed hard and gave a jerky nod, his gaze settling on hers.
“Then why?”
“You were so young. You needed protection.”
Cearnach snorted.
“Something to fall back on,” Mr. Hoover hastily said. “After your uncles died, you disappeared. Four months later, word reached us that pirates had attacked the ship you’d been traveling on. It was nearly a year before we learned you had become Rafferty’s wife and then that he had died. If we could have located you, you would have had the income to use as you saw fit all these years. Did… did you want us to continue to maintain your estates, ma’am?”
“I will have Guthrie MacNeill verify the accounts,” Elaine said. “I’m certain he will manage them from now on.” Then she looked at Cearnach as if she realized that since she was a mated wolf, it would be his business also.
She took a deep breath and Cearnach bowed his head slightly to her, acknowledging that he was in agreement, knowing what she was about to say and wanting her to know he was behind her on this. “I’m mated to Cearnach now. So we’ll need to make the deeds out in his name also.”
Ian let out his breath. “Hell, Cearnach.”
Everyone looked at Ian.
He shook his head and folded his arms, but didn’t say anything more. Cearnach knew he’d hear an earful as soon as he was alone with his brother. He should have told his brother that he and Elaine were mated before anyone else—particularly someone not of their pack.
Frowning deeply, the solicitor cleared his throat. “Do your kin know about this?”
“The Kilpatricks and McKinleys?” Elaine shook her head. “No one else officially knows here, either. I don’t plan to tell my kin. It’s none of their business. After the way they treated me, I don’t claim them as my own clansmen.”
“Can I… speak with you privately?” Mr. Hoover asked Elaine, looking more than concerned.
“I’m mated. So whatever you have to say can be said in front of my mate.”
The solicitor looked a little gray.
“What is it that you wished to speak to me about in private?” she asked when he didn’t say.
“Nay, Miss Hawthorn. I will have to confer with your cousins as to whether they wish for me to share this information with more than just yourself.”
“Who’s paying you for your services, Mr. Hoover?” she asked, her back and tone of voice stiff, alpha-like.
“For the management of your properties, you are, miss. Uh, I guess, I’m no longer managing your properties if the MacNeill clan will be responsible for