“You are proud then of your American heritage.”
“Of course I am.”
“But not your Scottish ancestry?”
Eve leaned forward and met her grandfather’s gaze. “My immigrant father was cast aside like so much rubbish by the very people who should have cared about him the most. Why should I give even a second thought to a Scottish family that would do that to him?”
Her grandfather’s face went red and once again he reminded Eve of her father. She reached out and covered his hand with hers.
“When my dad’s angry, he looks just like you.”
“And he’s told you the rift between us was all on my head.”
“No. He told me he was just as pigheaded as you are, but he wasn’t going to be forced to be something he didn’t want to be. He said he hated being stuck living in the country and loved the city. The idea of being turned into a sheep farmer depressed him and sucked all the joy from him. Dad said he tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.”
Her grandfather’s complexion was still flushed, but he seemed more in control of himself. He rubbed his face and looked tired.
“Bruce always insisted he knew what was best. He had to have a go at something for himself, even when his mother and I tried to keep him from getting hurt. How could I trust him to make an important decision like that?”
“His choice was the best one for him. He’s a good man who’s built a prosperous and happy life for himself,” Eve said with passion, putting all the love and respect she felt for her father in her words. “Bruce Stewart is one of the leading civil attorneys in Boston and has a reputation for integrity and thoroughness. People who hire him have every confidence in his abilities. He’s also a wonderful father. There’s only one topic that’s ever sent him over the top.”
“Me.” Her grandfather watched her with hooded eyes. “You think I was wrong.”
“Yes, I do. You don’t throw family away. I could have had a very different childhood if you hadn’t made things worse by disowning him. With time, you two might have made up. When he got the letter from your solicitor, my father made a promise to himself he would never set foot in Scotland again as long as you lived.” Eve straightened, realizing something she hadn’t before. Her dad had thrown away his father too.
Her grandfather extended his hand to her, and she took it.
“Perhaps ‘twas not a mistake if it set him on a path to meet your mam and raise such a daughter.”
The backs of Eve’s eyes stung. She tried to keep her tone teasing.
“Are you now trying to be a charmer?”
“Is it working?”
“Maybe a little.” Eve had a lot to think about after her epiphany. “Are you feeling better now you’ve had something to eat?”
“Aye.” Her grandfather sounded surprised.
“Are you up to having dinner with everyone tonight?”
The old man considered it. “I might.”
“Well, don’t come if you’re not up to it.”
Eve gave his hand a gentle squeeze and stood. She picked up the tray and left the room to find Alan waiting anxiously.
“Did he eat something?” he asked.
“Almost an entire scone with clotted cream and a bunch of jam. He also says he may come to dinner. Wait a second,” she said when the man reached for the door. “Is he like this often where he takes to his bed?”
“Mr. Stewart has suffered from migraines for years, but only since his son died have they been this bad.”
“How long has Graham been here?” she asked.
“He arrived a week after his father’s death. He comes and goes as he pleases.” Alan shifted uncomfortably like he wanted to say more but he didn’t.
“When grandfather passes, has Graham said what he’ll do with the property?”
