“I shall see him up, Aunt,” Camron offered. “Perhaps we shall even play a few games of billiards before then. Daphne says there is a billiards room here. What say you, your grace?”
“I shall look forward to it, sir!” the duke announced, pounding a fist on the table. “By Jove, it’s been quite some time since I played at billiards. I’m quite good, you know.”
Hero bent to kiss her father’s cheek, then leveled Camron a grateful look. “Thank you, but beware, heisvery good. For your own sake, please keep the stakes low.” Glancing around the room, she skimmed her eyes over Ian, who was still standing at the head of the table, and Daphne, who was smiling victoriously, before turning away.
“Hero…”
“Good night, everyone.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ian resumed his seat slowly, cursing himself for many things. For allowing Daphne back into Cuilean, for allowing her to monopolize him throughout the entire day and to even maneuver a place by his side at the dinner table by guilelessly insisting that Hero take the foot, given her higher rank. He’d borne her touch again and again, all the while wishing he could physically shake her off.
But he was a gentleman and the marquess. He hadn’t wanted to appear so openly rude.
Hero hadn’t seemed troubled by it at all. She’d read while they played cards. Smiled at Daphne’s many stories and sat regally at the dinner table as the courses were served and removed. She conversed with her father and young Kennedy, displaying enough of her enchanting smile to make him believe she was enjoying herself. In truth, she’d ignored him so thoroughly that for a short while he’d attempted to rouse some jealousy in her by responding to Daphne’s blatant flirtation with a few smiles of his own.
Life had certainly been easier before Hero’s arrival.
Less exciting, but much simpler.
Of course, Daphne’s arrival wasn’t a herald of tranquil days ahead, either. When Robert’s solicitor Nash walked Ian through the legalities of assuming the title and accompanied him to the castle for the first time weeks ago, her reaction to his coming traversed a wide spectrum of emotion, including disbelief, denial, and fury.
Dùn Cuilean was to have been hers, she insisted. It was hers no matter what the law said. It had taken Nash and then Jennings days to finally make her see the truth of the matter. Daphne had stormed away from the property in a rage.
Given the enormity of his new position and situation and all that it entailed, Ian had been glad to see her go. He had enough responsibility to bear without feeling as if he’d robbed another of their birthright. Nash assured him that his direct male lineage trumped Daphne Kennedy’s maternal link to the title.
Since then, Ian had put the entire matter from his mind to focus on his new obligations. Given that Daphne had thundered away vowing never to speak to him again, he wondered what brought her to Cuilean now. “What did you want to speak with me about, Miss Kennedy?”
“Is there somewhere private we can talk?” The fiery look in her eyes made Ian wary.
Nodding tightly, he offered her his arm and led her from the room, pausing at the duke’s chair. “You’ll be all right then, Harry?”
“More than all right, sir!” the duke assured him. “I’m about to take this young fellow for all he’s worth!”
A calculating expression replaced Kennedy’s normally cheerful one. “We shall see, your grace.”
“Best of luck to you both,” Ian said and continued from the room.
His study was just down the hall from the dining room at the rear of the castle with a small window overlooking the firth. The room was cast in deep shadows when they arrived, lit by only one gas sconce. It looked entirely too intimate for his taste. When he and Hero had spent hours poring over the estate ledgers, he hadn’t minded the cozy ambiance at all. But now…
Leaving Daphne at the door, he rounded the room, turning all the wall sconces up and returning the room to a more businesslike atmosphere. “So, what can I do for you, Miss Kennedy?”
“Can we sit, my lord?” Moving to the one small settee in the room, she sat and patted the space next to her invitingly.
Opting to lean against the front of his desk, Ian crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow.
“You’re still angry with me,” Daphne said with a pretty pout. “Please, my lord, you must forgive my actions. They were rash, emotional! You do have to admit, you gave me quite a surprise on your arrival.”
Not wanting to rehash what had been little more than an awful mess best forgotten, he conceded the point with a nod of his head.
Daphne smiled at that. “I’m so glad we can forgive and forget. I do so love Cuilean, you know. I just always imagined that I would live here someday.”
“I am sorry th—”
“But wait, my lord!” She rose to her feet and moving forward until she was just an arm’s length away. “Before you say anything else, I wanted to tell you why I’ve returned. I’ve had the most wonderful idea.”
“You have?”
