Page 115 of The Scottish Duke
“That’s because I’ve sinned every day. Either I’m thinking uncharitable thoughts or I’m too impatient or I’ve said something I shouldn’t have.”
“I think you’re perfect,” Lorna said.
The Dowager Duchess’s eyes had filled with tears and she leaned over to hug Lorna. Not the first time the sweet woman had done so.
Her mother-in-law was one of the best things about living at the castle. Being able to look at Alex anytime she wanted—as long as he was at Blackhall—was another. Bedding him was certainly at the top of her list.
Occasionally, he surprised her with an indication that he was thinking about her. The day he returned, for example. Or his anger on her behalf about Matthews. Last night he seemed to truly care that someone had wished her harm.
He wasn’t an easy man to get to know.
She took the path that wound around the west wing and down to the outcropping over the loch. Veering to her left, she kept on the barely trod path, knowing the way well from her half days off. With no relatives to visit, she’d often come exploring this way.
Today no one had come rushing out of Blackhall to advise her, admonish her, or otherwise lecture her. For a little while she would be alone. Those moments had been rare ever since giving birth.
The roads around the castle were paved with macadam, something she’d seen on only the wealthiest estates. The Russell wealth was evident in other ways: the staff of gardeners required to maintain the lawns, the greenhouse, and the various gardens. Two carpenters and three masons were employed on a continual basis. Their renovations seemed to be ongoing, from the original tower to the docks on Loch Gerry. Add in the servants in the kitchen and those required to clean the castle, and the staff numbered over seventy, all of whom had to be fed, housed, garbed, and paid.
She knew exactly how much it cost because of her weekly meetings with the steward. Until becoming a duchess she had no idea how much work one did.
The landscape was gray with occasional touches of green. Here and there, as if to tease her, she saw a touch of yellow or a surprising slash of red. Spring had come to the Highlands, but so reluctantly that it was tiptoeing across the landscape and cloaking its arrival beneath a curtain of fog.
The movement of her walking lulled Robbie to sleep. She glanced down at him and smiled, enchanted with the perfection of his baby face.
If something couldn’t be done about Mary, perhaps she should be like Alex and run away from Blackhall.
Would he even notice that she’d desertedhim?
Chapter 29
“You think I would do such a thing?” Thomas asked.
His uncle was sprawled in a chair in the library, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a book in the other. The book surprised Alex, the whiskey didn’t.
“Someone destroyed her apothecary,” Alex said. “Your fingerprints were on the bottles.”
“What you’re not saying, nephew, is even more insulting. Someone also tried to poison Lorna. Do you think I would do something like that?”
His uncle was angry, but he hid most emotions behind a placid facade. Most people wouldn’t have noticed the stiffness of his smile or the edge to his voice.
A curious thought struck Alex. Was he like Thomas in that way? Were they both so damned civilized that they buried their emotions down deep where they wouldn’t cause any problems?
His were clawing their way to the surface of late.
“It doesn’t mean that the person who destroyed her apothecary also stole the herbs,” he said. “Two people could have been involved.”
“I wasn’t,” Thomas said, sitting up and reaching for the tumbler of whiskey he’d put down. “On either count.” He took a sip, placed the glass back on the table, and glanced up at Alex. “Of course I can’t prove that to you.”
“You were there, though,” he said.
Thomas nodded. “I admit that freely. I went to see her, to try to figure out why you were determined to ruin your life by having her live at Blackhall. I was fascinated with all her herbs, but she slapped my hand when I would have opened a few bottles.”
“Perhaps it’s time you moved to the house in Inverness,” he said.
Thomas smiled. “Before you allow your anger to blind you, I’ll admit I figured out her attraction soon enough. She has something, your Lorna. She’s her own person. She’s not one of those women who change her opinion as often as her dress. She looks you in the eye. You grow to respect her as I have.” Thomas took another sip of his whiskey. “And I like her. I can’t say that about many women I know. I wouldn’t do anything to harm her.”
Alex turned to leave, only to be stopped by Thomas’s comment: “Do you have any idea how damned lucky you are?”
He glanced back at his uncle.
