A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,52
not since the spring floods six years ago. And that was just a small amount, mind, to repair the mill,” he added quickly. “’Twas soon repaid.”
Drew nodded, a thin frown on his face. He had no experience of managing an estate, but surely it was odd to tell an estate steward he shouldn’t ask for funds from the owner if they were needed. “So you’ve had no communication with Mr. Edwards, the duke’s solicitor?”
“Nay, sir. Only with Mr. MacGill.”
“And why is the house kept in readiness at all times?” That, Drew knew, was a considerable expense.
“Mr. MacGill’s orders, sir. He does come here for a month every summer, to see that all is well.”
And have a holiday at the duke’s expense, thought Drew in irritation. “It was suggested that I should consider selling the property when I inherit,” he said. “What do you think of that?”
Watkins hesitated. “It is a very fine estate, Captain. I’m sure it would bring a handsome sum.”
Drew nodded. He knew the dukedom came with a Scottish title: Earl of Crieff. Surely a Scottish earl should hold property in Scotland. He wondered again why Edwards was so keen to sell the estate. He thanked Mr. Watkins, told him he’d seen enough for one day, and headed after Ilsa.
She had ranged off on her own, but he found her on a hill overlooking the river that wound past the palace and into the village through the mill. She had dismounted and was walking Duncan’s gelding, who looked well exercised. He swung off his own horse and joined her.
She shaded her eyes as he came up beside her. “Is this all your property?”
Over ten thousand acres belonged to Stormont Palace; the answer was almost surely yes. “It’s not mine, but I believe this is all Stormont. It’s a question for Watkins.” She glanced past him, and Drew made a vague gesture. “I saw what I needed to see today. He’s gone back to . . . whatever he does all day.”
Her lips twitched. “Running your estate?”
“It’s not mine,” he said again. “And he’s doing a far better job than I would, so it’s for the best.” She grinned, and he shook his head. “I do intend to tell Mr. Edwards he ought to find a new solicitor, though. It appears Mr. MacGill tells Watkins to keep the estate ready for guests at all times, at great expense, yet the only guest who comes is MacGill himself.” He smiled tightly. “To see that all is in order, conveniently enough for a month in the summer.”
“I sacked Mr. MacGill,” Ilsa said with obvious pleasure.
“I am consumed with envy.” They shared a gleaming glance of amusement. God, he loved talking to her. “I apologize for not riding with you.”
“Oh no, you mustn’t,” she cried. “I fully expected to go on my own. If anything I should apologize to you, for imposing on you when you meant to see to business.”
“Imposing?” he echoed, startled. As a guest, at a strange estate, on a borrowed horse? Any host would have offered to accompany her, even if that host hadn’t also been eager to seize any chance of her company.
She seemed to misunderstand, hastening to assure him. “Oh yes. I hope I didn’t keep you too long. I’m quite used to doing on my own, since I was a child.” The glance she gave him from under her eyelashes was oddly shy. “But it was lovely to have company.”
He looked at her. A child without a mother, and a father too busy at work to be with her. A steady stream of tutors and instructors. An invitation to Agnes to stay with her, even before there was any crowding at his mother’s house. And the vision of her alone on the roof last night, gazing wistfully into the night sky and dreaming of flying like a hawk.
“I hope my company wasn’t dull.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Not at all!”
Drew grimaced. “My sisters tell me I am. Dreadfully Dreary Drew, Bella used to call me.”
She choked on a laugh. “That’s decidedly untrue.”
He knotted the reins and let his horse wander. “It must be said that I’ve had more . . . excitement with you than with my sisters.”
“Have you?” she murmured, one dark brow arching.
“Far more,” he averred in a low voice. “And I hope to continue.”
She turned and strolled away, her gloved hand brushing the tall grass beside the path. “Plans are the antithesis of excitement. None of us knows what the future holds anyway.”