A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,17
he hoped Mrs. Ramsay had not recognized him, so that she wouldn’t blame him for her summary dismissal from her own lawyer’s office. He opened the leather case of documents he had brought from Carlyle Castle and tried to put the intriguing woman from his mind.
Stormont Palace, the duke’s Scottish property, was a fine mansion that had been in Carlyle hands for over a hundred years, with extensive grounds and gardens. It was some fifty miles away, near Perth. Edwards believed it had been decently cared for under MacGill’s hand, but he strongly advised Drew never to take that for granted.
Mr. MacGill nodded when informed of Drew’s purpose, his thumbs hooked in his waistcoat pockets. “I’ve no doubt you’ll find all in perfect order there, Captain.”
“One hopes,” said Drew. “I intend to visit it myself, so we shall see.”
MacGill’s brows rose. “Indeed, sir! I shall send word along at once.”
He smiled briefly. “If it is in perfect order, is that necessary?”
The lawyer blinked, then nodded. “True, true! Ah . . . well, what shall I show you, then?”
For hours he pored over the records the solicitor brought out. Stormont Palace did appear to be in fine condition. Though not profitable, it supported itself. Surely with a little effort it could be brought into even better shape, and be a valuable piece of the ducal portfolio instead of a burdensome afterthought.
When he stepped back out into the square, he was mildly surprised by the angle of the sunlight. He’d been there longer than expected, and MacGill had never left his side. He wondered how many other clients had been turned away during his visit. Shaking his head at the difference between a lowly new lieutenant and the heir to a duke, he walked back to the Old Town, to his mother’s house, where he had promised to dine.
Unlike yesterday, he found everyone at home this time. Isabella and Winifred ran to fling themselves at him with shrieks of welcome. Laughing, he caught one in each arm, then had to adjust when Agnes joined them. He looked over their heads to see their mother, Louisa, smiling at the sight of them all.
“Save me, Mother,” he exclaimed. “I’m overwhelmed!”
This brought a round of protest and even mild abuse. “Such a soft little man you’ve become, in the army,” scoffed Bella.
“I daresay we shouldn’t tell his colonel that three girls can overwhelm him,” added Winnie.
He huffed. “Like a flock of geese, you are. Honk, honk, honk, and so much flapping of wings . . .”
“Andrew,” said his mother in gentle reproof. “That is ungentlemanly.”
Abashed, he kissed her cheek and then swung her off her feet in an embrace, grinning as his mother squawked indignantly and his sisters burst out laughing.
“Well!” Flustered, Louisa clapped one hand to her head, adjusting her cap. “At least we know it’s really you. Come in, come in!”
Dinner was a feast, with his favorite dishes in every course and good Scotch claret throughout. He inhaled happily. He’d missed his mother’s kitchen, and when Annag brought in the crowning glory, the roasted beef, he might have moaned in ecstasy. He certainly ignored his sisters’ teasing about his appetite, right through the sweets course.
“’Tis more than the rest of us could eat in a week,” whispered Winnie, eyeing his plate.
“How fortunate the army has the feeding of him,” said Bella. “Our cupboards would be bare.”
“I’m being appreciative,” Drew retorted, ladling more cream on his plum pudding. “’Tis the finest meal I’ve had in months, even including at the castle.”
“And are you going to tell us why you’ve been to Carlyle Castle?” asked his mother, raising her eyebrows. Instantly the room fell silent, and all three sisters turned to him with expectant faces.
He swallowed his bite of pudding and laid down his fork. She’d been very restrained—all of them had been. He’d got to enjoy a delicious dinner in peace. “Aye. But I warn you, we’ll need more claret.”
“Why?” demanded Bella as Agnes jumped up and began pouring.
“Papa always said they were the coldest people there at Carlyle,” put in Winnie. “I couldn’t possibly hate them more!”
“No,” he said, holding up one hand. “You’ll not hate them when you hear.” Agnes raised a skeptical brow, but the younger girls looked interested. He took a deep breath. “The duke is in poor health. His younger brother died a few months ago.”
Someone made a dismissive noise under her breath. “How unfortunate,” said Louisa, shooting a sharp glance around the table.