Adam sat down to read the letter. His brow furrowed in disbelief. This could not be true!
Adam Cameron Esq.
Dear Sir,
It is my duty and pleasure to advise you that under the terms of his Last Will and Testament, Laird Malcolm Kenneth Mackintosh has bequeathed you the property known as Inverinch Estate, near Banff, Scotland. This estate consists of the village of Inverinch, Inverinch Castle, and a hundred acres of farmland, on which there are five tenanted crofts. There is also a sum of money in gold waiting for you about which I will give you more details when we meet. I hope to make your acquaintance at your earliest convenience.
Your humble servant,
Rev. E. Gordon.
Adam let the letter fall onto the floor as he flopped down on his bed, stunned. He had forgotten his headache and the discomfort of his sore back. Whathadhe been doing last night? All he could think about was the fact that he was now a very rich man. Money and a hundred acres of land that would be worth a pretty penny. And a castle? It would be an unimaginable fortune, even without the taxes from the village.
He gave thought for a moment of Uncle Malcolm. He had been married to his mother Lily’s older sister Tessa—a rare union between a Scot and an eingloshwoman—but they had not been blessed with children. Adam had only been able to meet his uncle a handful of times in his life, but they had been very fond of each other. The last time Adam had seen him was when he was eighteen years old, when his uncle had looked hale and hearty. His uncle always respected and admired Adam. He was treating him as if he was hiw own son and advising him to be better. His uncle believed in him. Adam felt for a moment that he had let him down, as he had not done anything significant in his life so far.
Adam had seen people die of consumption before; it was a rapacious disease, and those who caught it died a slow and agonizing death. He was glad he had not seen his uncle in his final few months.
He looked at the letter again, wondering what to do. He had no clue how to run an estate—even an ordinary household was a challenge for him. He stood up and dressed quickly, putting the letter carefully in a secret pocket of his coat. He needed to ask for some sage advice.
Adam rode into Newcastle, without any clear memory of the trip, and went immediately to the wine emporium of which his brother Wilfred, the merchant, was the owner.
He was a tall, thin fellow whose dark hair was already receding even at the tender age of twenty-two. He had a long aquiline nose and large brown eyes that somehow reminded Adam of a horse, but he was fearsomely intelligent and had a wicked sense of humor. They did not look much alike, but they loved each other dearly.
He greeted Adam by patting him on the shoulder and smiling at him, and then looked closely at Adam’s preoccupied expression. “What’s amiss, my brother?” he asked in a concerned voice. “Are the dice not going your way? Lost your shirt again?”
He was referring to Adam’s unfortunate habit of combining gambling, drinking, and whores. He had been known to win at the dice table then get blind drunk, hire a woman of the night, and leave his money pouch in full view. By the time he was sober enough to stand, the money and the whore were both gone. He had lost a small fortune this way.
Adam shook his head. “No, Will,” he replied. “For once I have not. This is shocking news, but very, very good...at least for me. Read this.” He gave the letter to Wilfred, watching his eyes grow wider and wider as he read it.
“My God!” he said, aghast. “You meaneverything? The whole estate? Why, I am flabbergasted!” Then he grinned happily. “But absolutely delighted for you, my friend. Laird Adam Cameron. It has a dignified ring to it.”
Suddenly a female voice interrupted them and Adam saw two very fashionably dressed ladies looking at them in fascination. It was Eleanor Mapleton—the wife of Peter, Adam’s cousin—accompanied by her sister Bessie. She had only caught the last few words of the conversation.
“Adam, you, a laird?” Eleanor’s face was a mask of incredulity. “You would go and live among those Scottish barbarians when you have a good strong town house to live in here in merry old England? Your homeland will be a place where men wear skirts and speak some garbled doggerel instead of a civilized language like English. Perhaps you should sell it. You will be a very rich man. Of course, what do I know? I am only a woman.” In truth, she was extremely jealous of Adam’s good fortune.
Adam nodded slowly. “Perhaps you are right,” he said sadly. “I really do not belong there. I will sell it and buy myself something bigger and better here, and I will keep the gold and look for a bride.”
At the word “gold,” both women’s ears perked up. They looked at each other with an acquisitive gleam in their eyes, and Bessie asked casually, “May I see the letter?”
Adam knew there was no point in hiding it, so he handed it to Bessie. Both sisters scanned it excitedly and when they had read it through they looked up at Adam with jealous eyes. “I have changed my mind,” Bessie declared firmly. “If I were you I would keep it. It looks as if it’s a goldmine!”
“A minute ago you were telling me to sell it!” he pointed out, annoyed. “Tell me why you want me to keep it now.”
“I did not realize there was so much land,” she replied. “You could make a fortune if you ran it yourself with a good estate manager.”
“I agree, Adam,” Wilfred broke in. “At least go and see it. If you do not, you may be cheated out of its true worth.”
“I dare you!” Eleanor laughed.
“So do I!” said Bessie. “At least find out if it is worth keeping.”
Adam looked at the letter for a long time, frowning, while Eleanor and Bessie bought their wine. He could not make up his mind one way or the other, but even if he decided to sell it he would have to view it first.
“Coward!” cried Eleanor and Bessie in unison as they laughed at him. “You are too scared to cross the border in case the men in skirts throw stones at you!”
Adam suddenly thumped the counter of the shop, his dark blue eyes blazing with anger. “Has any one of you ever been to Scotland?” he demanded furiously. Three heads shook at the same time.
“Then go there first and then you will know what you are talking about!” Adam’s deep voice had risen to a shout and the two women cowered back from him. Eleanor, who was halfway through her first pregnancy, put her hand protectively on her stomach as if to shield her baby from harm.
