He turned, leaned back against the front of the desk, folded his arms, and faced Edmund.
“My grandfather knew this place.”
“It’s quite possible he may have been employed here, Your Lordship,”
He leaned against the desk, folded his arms, and studied Edmund. “Explain.”
“The 10thLord Fairfax was very kind to many people in his family, sir,” Edmund said stiffly. “He paid for their education. His father was equally generous. It’s quite possible your grandfather worked for the 9thLord until emigrating to America. It’s equally possible the 9thLord paid for your grandfather to do so.”
If that were true, then his grandfather’s accomplishments were even more amazing. Barely twenty years after he’d arrived in America, Magnus Fairfax had built Gleneagle.
“What happened to the 10thLord’s family? I know his children predeceased him, but what about his wife?”
“Unfortunately, Your Lordship, the lady was sickly ever since the death of her children. She died ten years before the 10thLord.”
“So he lived here alone?”
Edmund nodded. “For many years.”
“You worked for him a long time?”
“Since leaving school,” Edmund said. “Would you like to see the ledgers now, Your Lordship?”
“No, not now. Later is soon enough,” he said, turning and staring out the window, an effective dismissal for Edmund.
Thankfully, his solicitor took the hint.
When he was alone, he walked around the desk and sat.
What the hell did he do now?
Something other than sit here, surveying his domain.
He should have felt some sense of triumph, returning to Scotland bearing a title Magnus had never thought to wear. Instead, all he felt was sadness for the boy who’d so loved a place he’d built its twin in a faraway country.
Standing, he left the library, taking the back stairs, that were exactly where he’d expected them to be, and left Doncaster Hall.
“Ido think we should visit poor Veronica at the first opportunity,” Amanda said, taking the packages from her mother. The Countess of Conley did not like to be encumbered with her purchases.
She truly liked these outings with her mother; it was one of the few times they were alone. Otherwise, one of her siblings was always trailing about, listening or talking.
“You didn’t purchase the embroidery thread you wanted, Amanda,” her mother said, signaling their coachman. He inched forward on the crowded London street, and her mother headed toward the curb, leaving Amanda to follow.
“I changed my mind,” she said. Her financial situation was such that she had only a few coins left until her quarterly allowance in two months. Her parents expected her to use her own money to purchase those items she wanted rather than needed. Did they realize how very expensive new gloves could be? Or that perfumes from Floris were almost ruinous in price?
Her mother looked askance at her. “Have you forgotten, dear Amanda, that Veronica is newly wed? I would not be so gauche as to interrupt those first tender weeks of marriage.”
“Nor would I normally suggest it,” she said, handing the packages to her maid. “If we were well acquainted with Montgomery. He’s an American. He’s a stranger to us although not much of one to Veronica.” She allowed her voice to trail off to a sigh that garnered her another sideways look from her mother.
“They were married because of scandal, Mother. However inappropriate it may be, however, I can’t help think it would be wise to see, for ourselves, that Montgomery is a good husband.”She pressed her hands together, almost prayerfully. “Marry in haste. Repent in leisure.”
“There is that,” her mother said, preceding her into the carriage. “Why are you so set on visiting Veronica?”
Amanda felt a fluttering deep in her stomach, a feeling too like fear to be comfortable. “I have my own reputation to consider, Mother. If Veronica will do anything to shame us, as a family, I would rather be forewarned.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“She might return to London,” Amanda said.
