“I know of many such tales,” she spoke true. “Every house in England that is owned by a family dating back more than a hundred years, has story upon story of triumphs and also tragedies. Good fortune, and wretched luck.
“Why should Lyongate and your family be any different?” She smiled at him, not liking the sudden seriousness of his mood. “I would be surprised if you didn’t have the odd skeleton buried beneath the floorboards.”
To her surprise, he blanched.
“My dear Melissa,” he said, his color returning only slowly. “Can it be that the sight runs in your mother’s family?”
“Not that I’m aware. Why?”
“Because, sweeting, the floorboards-skeleton in my family wasn’t buried centuries ago,” he said, and his voice was dull, flat with the weight of his words. “He was my uncle, the true laird, and he was killed by my father’s hand some years ago. Uncle Alastair didn’t want the lairdship and he wanted Lyongate Hall even less. He detested the remoteness of our lands, the wild and savage beauty most MacRaes love so much and thrive on.
“His greatest dream was turning his back on what he called ‘cold and dreary Scotland’ and absconding to the Caribbean with his lady love, a singer and dancer at an Aberdeen dockside tavern.
“To do that, he decided to sell the estate in its entirety,” he said, then reached for and drained his whisky. “His fatal mistake was to inform my father. He loved Lyongate with a fierceness that fringed on unholy, and so, to prevent his brother, the laird, from selling out, he-”
“He killed him.” Melissa saw the truth in his eyes, her heart breaking for him.
He set down his dram glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “A single dirk thrust to the ribs and the deed was done. Uncle Alastair was buried beneath the Lyongate stables and none of us knew until my father had a carriage accident and used his last breath to confess what he’d done.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, shook his head. “He’d even forged a letter my uncle supposed penned, bidding us all ‘farewell’ as he was away to Jamaica. We all believed it, too.”
“I am so sorry.” Melissa didn’t know what else to say. “It seems you do have experience with such sad matters.”
He nodded, the shadows still clouding his eyes. “So I do. I’m afraid my father even had my uncle’s mistress murdered, though we will never be able to prove that.”
“Dear heavens.” Melissa’s heart clenched. “The poor woman.”
“So she was, aye.” Lucian lifted the decanter, poured them each a fresh dram. “I believe she truly loved my uncle. She fought for him, coming to Lyongate in a fury when my uncle went missing. She insisted something had happened to him.
“We didn’t believe her.” He shook his head again. “She was informed Uncle Alastair had sailed for the Caribbean and then she was booted from our lands.”
“And then she died?”
He nodded, pulled a hand down over his face. “Her loss is one of my greatest regrets.”
“It was not your fault.” Melissa ached for him to the roots of her soul. “As I believe, she will know that, even now.”
He glanced at her, a shimmer of hope in his eyes. “You mean that, don’t you?”
“I do.
“I hope you are right, lass. I just wish I could have done something to save her.”
“You couldn’t have known, could you?” She pointed out the truth he didn’t see.
He said nothing, just peered down at his whisky.
“What was the lady’s name?”
He looked up then, lifting a brow. “Sally. She was called Sally. Why do you want to know?”
“Because…” She reached across the table again, this time taking both his hands in her own. “I am thinking of a way you might someday honor your uncle and his lady love. If it pleased you, why not name two of your children after the pair?
“Alastair and Sally,” she spoke the names, smiling now. “They can then be together again, and happily. If only as brother and sister. What do you think?”
“I think you are a remarkable lass,” he said, his own smile returning. “And I thank you.” His smile spread, putting the warmth back in his eyes. “I can see a wee Alastair and Sally running through the heather at Lyongate…”
“Then it must be so,” she agreed. “I can see them, too.”
