Page 36 of The Texan Duke
If he was going to leave as quickly as he’d come, he had a great deal to accomplish in a very little time. He’d set himself the goal of going home in a month. That would give Glassey time enough to find a buyer for the house. Perhaps even one of the wealthy New Yorkers he and Sam had met on the ship would be interested. They could brag that they’d purchased a duke’s home in Scotland.
Today he would have to speak to his aunt. What he’d seen of her made him suspect that she was one of those people who only saw things from the outside of a person. What they wore, how they spoke, how much prosperity their appearance revealed. She would probably overlook someone she considered beneath her, never figuring out that the outside can always be changed, but it was the inside that truly mattered.
Were his cousins from the same cloth? Only Muira had struck him as the type of person he’d like to get to know.
And Elsbeth, of course. The beautiful housekeeper whose smile lit something up inside him.
Of all the people at Bealadair, he wanted to get to know her the best.
Elsbeth had cared for Mr. Glassey like any guest who arrived at Bealadair. She had seen to his dietary restrictions, ensured that the laundress had instructions as to his clothing, had made notice of his tastes in wine and food, including his dislike of any kind of fish. She always made sure that the same room was kept ready for him when he visited them from Inverness.
Mr. Glassey, in turn, had always greeted her by name. Their relationship was, if she had to define it for anyone, that of cordial strangers.
This afternoon, however, she was going against the rules. She waited until lunch was finished and Mr. Glassey made his appearance outside the dining room. Since it wouldn’t be proper to knock on his door, she was going to waylay him, take him into the anteroom set aside for the servants, and ask him if what she’d been told was the truth.
Everything went according to her plan. The surprised man allowed her to grip his elbow and guide him into the small space.
“I apologize, Mr. Glassey,” she said to the solicitor. “But His Grace has just told me something disturbing. Is it true that he plans to sell Bealadair?”
Before the solicitor could speak, she added, “He cannot sell Bealadair, can he? It’s entailed, isn’t it? It must pass to the next heir.”
“I wasn’t aware that His Grace had made his plans known,” Mr. Glassey said, his voice icy. “I wish he’d informed me first.”
“The duchess doesn’t know yet,” she said. “I haven’t told her, Mr. Glassey, and I don’t think the duke has, either.”
Mr. Glassey nodded, his expression easing.
“I’m relieved, Miss Carew. That will give me time to prepare Her Grace.”
“Then he can do it,” she said, feeling her stomach drop.
Was this what fainting felt like? She was not going to do something so out of character now, but she did wish there was a chair nearby.
Mr. Glassey nodded. “Technically, the only entailed property is the old castle,” he said. “And a few acres surrounding it. His Grace, however, was ever mindful of his brother and their estrangement. He saw fit to give Bealadair and the land to him. No one knew, of course, that Graham had already died by the time His Grace passed.”
“Has the new duke always planned to sell Bealadair? From the very beginning?”
The solicitor shook his head. “I have no idea, Miss Carew. The duke does not confide in me. I can tell you this. He was none too happy to learn about his ascension to the title. That surprised me originally, but it shouldn’t have. As I have come to know His Grace, he has no love for what he callsairs. He honestly believes that becoming the 14th Duke of Lothian is an impediment rather than an honor.”
From what she’d learned of Connor, she couldn’t help but agree.
What a fool she was for feeling anything like disappointment. She hadn’t known Connor McCraight a few days earlier. His absence wouldn’t affect her life. He would simply be a fascinating man she’d once met, a Texan who’d carried his saddle halfway around the world, but that was all. Nothing more.
“Will you be telling her soon?” she asked.
It wouldn’t do for someone else to tell the duchess of Connor’s plans.
“I am thinking that it should be very soon,” Mr. Glassey said.
They shared a glance. She knew exactly what the reluctance in his gaze meant and commiserated with the man. He didn’t want to have to tell the Duchess of Lothian that she and her family were about to be evicted from Bealadair.
“That aunt of yours, she’s something,” Sam said, entering the small library. He hadn’t knocked, but Connor wasn’t surprised. Sam sometimes treated him as if he were the youngest puppy in a litter and he were the older, wiser dog.
“She gets you with that way of hers.”
“What way is that?” Connor asked, leaning back in his chair.
Sam shook his head. “Could be her smile. She’s got the prettiest mouth. Or her eyes. Beautiful brown eyes, all big and warm.”
