Chapter One
Scotland, Edinburgh
Summer, 1857
“Ahome,” saidSir John Shaw, peering down his bulbous nose, “for young women of questionable morals? Lady Strathlin, I must advise against this investment, both as a member of the board of Matheson Bank, and as a friend of your late grandfather. Lord Strathlin would never have allowed it.”
Meg folded her hands and faced her banker across her grandfather’s oak desk in Strathlin Castle’s study. Her wealthy grandfather’s name—Frank Matheson, Lord Strathlin—was attached to the bank as well as nearly all else she usually discussed with advisors like Sir John Shaw. She had inherited Lord Strathlin’s castle, his accounts, his treasures, his properties, and the very bank itself. His will had been a shock, a surprise, a gift, a burden, and a lifetime of responsibility.
“Matheson House is hardly a home for women of ill repute, Sir John,” she said calmly. “Rather, it is intended to be a haven for unmarried young mothers in need of some help and a place to stay until their circumstances improve. I want to see it opened for those in need.”
Sir John’s frown deepened. Meg held his gaze.
In the silence, morning sunlight streamed through tall windows to highlight the blue-and-gold Oriental carpetunderfoot, colors that reminded her of a Hebridean beach. That, and the painting of a seascape over the mantelpiece, helped ease bouts of homesickness for Caransay.
In the last few years, she had returned as often as she could, though not as often as she wanted. But she would go there soon to enjoy a rare holiday visit to the island. She drew a hopeful breath at the thought.
“A home for unmarried young mothers!” Sir John regarded her with bleary eyes through a monocle lens. “My lady, do not forget that they must have poor morals to be in such straits to begin with. You should not associate yourself with them.”
She had nearly been one of them, she thought, but for the compassion of her family. She shook her head. “I sympathize with them, sir. Girls of good moral fiber sometimes find themselves in difficult circumstances. I just want to help.”
“But as Baroness of Strathlin, and no longer a—” He sniffed, leaving the rest unsaid.
“A simple island girl?” She smiled tightly. “I am not ashamed of my origins and would not lose sight of them. I know that my inheritance of my grandfather’s estate and title shocked some peers, but when an older grandson died young, I was the only heir. It is as perfectly proper in Scotland for the title to come to a female, and I am doing my best to honor the old estate.”
He cleared his throat. “Some did think Lord Strathlin was mad to leave his fortune not just to a female, but a Hebridean girl. You scarcely spoke English when you first arrived here.”
“And had no shoes.” She smiled. “But my mother, who came to the Hebrides to marry for love despite her wealthy upbringing, made sure I had a good education and knew my manners. But proper behavior for baroness is proper behavior for anyone, sir. And my mother also taught me that if we are blessed with good fortune in life, it behooves us to show compassion for others regardless of rank.”
She hoped her mother would be proud of her, for she was truly doing her utmost to balance a life of wealth and privilege with the Hebridean simplicity she preferred.
Glancing at the unopened letters piled on a silver tray on her desk, she sighed. There was work to be done, gifts to consider, charities in need of fostering. Most mornings, she usually read mail and discussed various business and social matters with her secretary, Mr. Hamilton. But dear Guy Hamilton had not yet arrived; Sir John the banker had come early and stayed overlong.
“Madam, your fortune approaches that of the very queen.” Sir John sat forward, wrapping his hands over the head of his cane.
“Oh, sir, that cannot be.”
“I will show you the figures again, but rest assured it is considerable, which gives you a level of responsibility that others may never face.”
“I appreciate your advice, sir.” She folded her hands. He could be a crabbit, but he had been invaluable to her.
“You can easily afford to support all the charitable efforts you wish. But I urge you to step away from this particular one, or at least fund it anonymously. Sir Roderick would give you the same advice, as he expressed to me just yesterday.”
“Sir Roderick should keep his opinions to himself.”
“He is a board member of the Bank of Scotland, as well as your cousin. And I understand he is your fiancé as well. Let me offer my congratulations. It is a suitable match and an advantageous union. And the familial relationship is distant enough that no one will be bothered by it.”
Meg frowned. She was very much bothered by it. “Roderick told you we were engaged?”
“Oh, yes. He is beside himself with happiness and blurted it to me in his exuberance. But I understand it is a secret for now and I will honor that.”
“He did ask me to marry him,” she said slowly, thinking back on a conversation after he had downed a good deal of wine at a supper party. “But I have not accepted. His remarks were hasty.”
“But it will come about, surely! It is a sensible arrangement. The matter of your marriage is of great interest to the bank’s board, of course, considering your wealth. I am sure you would never become engaged without discussing it at length. So much at stake, you see.”
“True. When or if I decide to marry, it would be a decision from my heart with the advice of my future husband. I would expect the board to accept that decision. But there is no such news to report. Indeed, I may never wed,” she added. “I am grateful for my good fortune, but this inheritance only makes marriage complicated. It would be difficult to believe the sincerity of any man who declared his affection. Sir John, please do not discuss this with others. I value privacy.”
He cleared his throat. “Of course, madam.”
