Page 125 of To Wed an Heiress
To his surprise, the older man didn’t greet his daughter. Instead, he addressed Lennox.
“I hear you fly airships,” he said. “Why would you do such a fool thing?”
“Because I can,” Lennox answered. Rutherford had already struck him as the kind of man who wouldn’t be convinced of anything easily. However, he was under no compunction to try and make the man understand why flight fascinated him.
“You’re arrogant,” Rutherford said.
Lennox only inclined his head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He had Mercy to think of. He didn’t want to hurt her by clashing with her father.
“I’ll buy your invention.”
“In the hopes that I’ll go away and leave your daughter alone? Too late. We were married by the laws of Scotland whether you accept it or not.”
“No, you damn fool. Not because I want you to go away and leave my daughter alone. It’s too late for that. Because she’s my daughter, that’s why.”
“In an effort to appear less arrogant, Rutherford, I have to tell you that while I appreciate the offer, my invention is not for sale. Nor am I.”
“I have heard you actually fly the thing.”
“So far, I’ve created little more than a glider. I’m experimenting with thrust, velocity, and lift.”
“I have people working on the same thing,” Rutherford said.
Perhaps the offer to buy his airship was genuine.
“I hear you’re an inventor as well. And a physician.”
“I don’t practice as such.”
“However, you’ve loaned your talents to people in the village when necessary.”
“Whoever has told you about me is well informed.”
“I have been plagued by people who want to tell me about you, Caitheart, from every member of the Macrory family to each of their servants. I have to admit that the servants have a better opinion of you than the family.”
Lennox smiled, genuinely amused.
“There’s been bad blood between the Macrorys and the Caithearts for generations.”
“Then I would be about mending fences if I was you, Caitheart.”
“Why is that, Rutherford?”
Despite himself, he was enjoying sparring with the older man and, if he didn’t mistake it, Rutherford was feeling the same way.
“Because I’ve made Macrory an offer on his house. It’s big enough that he and Mercy’s grandmother can live there as long as they wish, but I need a place for my wife and me to stay when we come to Scotland.”
That was a surprise.
“You’re welcome to stay here,” he said. “As my father-in-law, it would be expected.”
“This is a moldering dump,” Rutherford announced.
“It is not,” Mercy said, her voice indignant. “It’s a four-hundred-year-old castle, Father. With a history of a family, one that I married into. I would appreciate your demonstrating a little respect. All it needs is a new roof over the chapel and a few repairs here and there.”
“Which you’ll do, no doubt,” her father said.
Rutherford didn’t look all that angry. In fact, he appeared rather pleased with himself.
