his farewell before he followed Tipton toward the hall’s curved stairs.
Ian leaned on his walking stick. “He’ll fit right in around here, Miss Ogilvy. Though that is nae always a good thing.” He tipped his hat and then headed out the front door.
Sarina’s gaze followed Ian. “What a strange thing to say.”
Campbell was going to kill Ian the second he was alone with him. “My cousin is odd, to say the least. Pay him no heed.”
“Forgive me, my lord, but I was never under the impression that the cottage my father used, needed renovating. In fact, he once mentioned how well-kept the place had been.”
Campbell swallowed. Revealing the truth now would only send Sarina back to Edinburgh. And if Lycansay Hall sensed her apprehension, who the hell knew what would happen to the woman. “’Tis true about the cottage having been in good condition when your father resided there. However, recent events have rendered it unavailable. I do hope ye dunnae mind staying at the main house.” The closer he kept her and Nevan under his watchful eye, the safer they’d be.
“Of course not. I appreciate the lodging, as well as the opportunity to work for you.”
“Please, think nothing of it.” He paused. “May I be frank, Miss Ogilvy?”
“Is there any other way to be, my lord?”
There was, but he didn’t think it good to say so at the moment. “I do hope ye realize ye can trust me. I am fully prepared to answer any questions ye have about yer father, his work, and his time spent here in Dundaire. I will answer all to the best of my abilities.”
“Even questions concerning the man’s secrets?”
She obviously knew more than what Charles had told him he’d revealed to her. “Please believe me when I say that yer safety and that of Nevan’s, is my priority.”
She stared at him, gave him a look that appeared skeptical, yet vulnerable. Nae quite a plea for help, but something near to it. “While I do believe your sincerity on the matter, sir, I am not about to give you my trust. At least not yet. My father was many things and most of them not favorable, but he was good at teaching me to fend for myself. And because of that, I insist anyone who seeks my trust, must earn it. Especially where Nevan is concerned.”
He understood Sarina, completely, despite nae caring for this figurative wall she’d erected between them. He stepped forward. “Then know this, Miss Ogilvy, I will earn yer trust. And more.”
A barely-there gasp registered with Campbell’s preternatural hearing. Studying Sarina’s face, he noted a nervous tremble overtaking her luscious lips while a fiery red devoured the previous pink hue of her cheeks.
Campbell leaned in, brought his lips to Sarina’s ear as he took in the scent of rose topped with bergamot. The intoxicating fragrance scurried through his every inch like a horde of spiders scattering off their mother’s back while making a run for safety. He absorbed the smell. Forced the notes into the deepest, most guarded parts of his soul. “While I insist ye never let ye guard down, Miss Ogilvy, I also insist ye find a way for me to earn that trust soon, for Lycansay Hall is nae safe. Ye will need an ally while living here, and better that ally be me than the madness that stalks this house.”
The sound of Sarina swallowing, thundered at his ears. She pulled away from him. “Is there any other business you wish to discuss, sir?”
“I believe the rest can wait until morning. Ye’ve had a long trip and I have no intention of keeping ye in my company when a rest will do ye better.”
“Good, as I really should keep an eye on Nevan. I fear my brother gets a bit…restless when he’s been cooped up for hours. He’s much like my father in that regard.”
Campbell inched back. “Nevan would do best to become his own man, for Charles Ogilvy was nae a soul to be followed.”
“And yet you spoke highly of him in your letter to me.”
He had, but obviously nae for the reasons Sarina had interpreted. “Much like taking on this expedition is a necessity for ye, yer father was a necessity to me, to Lycansay Hall, and to Dundaire on a whole. He spent hours perched in the trees, studying this land from above, believing a bird’s-eye-view offered a better chance to discover what it was that Dundaire so diligently kept hidden. But many a day