other. “Tipton had me down at the stables looking for ye. And that was after he’d sent me to the loch, the smithy, and even the kitchens. Forewarning there. Mind yer pheasant and peas tonight for Mrs. Paget isnae in an amicable mood.”
“What did ye steal from her kitchen this time?”
Ian shot him a hazel-eyed glare as he tossed his hat onto the sofa and sat. He steadied his walking stick against the nearby blue plaid chair. “No more than a single biscuit. And considering this is yer home, stealing is a bit of a stretch.”
“I disagree. Though I will give ye that I was wrong in stating ye stole from Mrs. Paget. Ye stole from me.”
Ian leaned back and propped his boot-covered feet onto the coffee table. “I’ve offered many times to pay for my board.”
“Ye canna afford my fees, Cousin.”
A slight laugh fell from Ian’s mouth. “As if living at Lycansay Hall is worth yer fees.”
“Some would think so. In fact, some souls would do anything to preserve what we have here.”
“Aye, but the sane ones wouldnae. They’d burn it to the ground and walk away never to look back.”
Ian spoke only the truth. In fact, he’d thought of committing the very same sin many nights. But the terror that stalked Lycansay Hall wasnae something a soul could so easily dispose of. It was a haunting that plagued both one’s land and one’s blood. And last he’d checked, the Royal Society of Medicine didnae have a cure for such an affliction. Nor had the Church. Not that that stopped those bastards from attempting to come up with one. “Walking away isnae an option.”
All jest faded from Ian’s face as he straightened, slipped his legs from the table, and took on a somber mood. “Seriously, Ian, with Ogilvy now dead, where do we stand?”
If only he knew the answer to that himself. “At the moment, I’m waiting for Miss Sarina Ogilvy and her brother Nevan to arrive. They wish to collect their father’s belongings.”
“Are ye open to giving them everything?”
“Sarina expressed interest in continuing her father’s work.”
Ian’s eyes went wide. “Good, God, man. Ye cannae seriously be considering the option.”
He said nothing.
“Does Miss Ogilvy ken how her father died?”
“I didnae feel it was proper to discuss the matter in a letter.”
“So she’s coming here totally unaware of the situation.”
“Rest assured, I will reveal all before the woman takes so much as a single step toward starting up where Charles left off.”
Rising, Ian ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “I cannae permit ye to do this.”
Campbell stood. He gripped the edge of his desk and leaned forward. “Ye are not master of Lycansay Hall.”
“That may be, but I am still a MacHendrie of Dundaire. And as such, I have a right to protect unsuspecting mortals from the madness that curses this place. As do ye.” He crossed the room and stared Campbell square in the eyes. “Need I go to Bane?”
He was not involving the shifters. “Bane has no say in the matter, despite being a MacHendrie. This solely concerns those whose bloodline is directly attached to Lycansay Hall.”
“There are three factions of the MacHendries of Dundaire,” Ian said. “And all three need to be informed of what ye are about to do. It’s part of the accord our forefathers signed nearly two millennia ago.”
Lycansay Hall was his responsibility. Not some mortal’s responsibility. And certainly not some shifter’s responsibility, despite what that damn agreement stated. “One word and I’ll serve up yer arse on a silver platter to Miss Lovegrove before ye can twist that mouth of yers into a snarl.”
“Ye wouldnae dare.”
“Try me.”
“But that Sassenach is a witch.”
“A verra good witch, I might add. Miss Lovegrove is also a verra good friend.”
Ian frowned. “Not to me she isnae.”
“Ye instigated that fight by leaving the woman after she’d given ye her heart. What did ye expect?”
Ian backed down but said nothing of his relationship with Lovegrove. “Have ye considered Mariah in all this? On the effect it will have on her?”
Before Campbell could answer, his ever-stoic English butler, Tipton, appeared at the library’s entrance. “The coach has been seen in town, my lord. It should be making its way up the drive within the next half hour.”
Tipton couldnae be more precise, which was why the man was beyond priceless to Lycansay Hall. “No further notice need be sent, Tipton. I will nae be stopping the carriage.”
Looking away from the butler, Campbell eyed his cousin. “We’ll finish this discussion later.