Page 6 of The Lyon and the Lass

Her face lit up. “I do! There is a charming restaurant on Bond Street that serves wonderful food. The best part is if you sit near a window, you can see the shoppers strolling by, and if that doesn’t appeal, we can take a table near the back of the room which is quieter.”

He leaned back and rested his foot on his knee enjoying the view of his pretty, petite bride and again he congratulated himself. He’d done well. “I’m all for quiet. I would like to spendour time enjoying a relaxed meal and getting to ken each other better.”

She smiled her agreement. ’Twas only a matter of about ten minutes when the hackney driver drew up to the pavement edge and stopped the vehicle. He jumped down and opened the door. Kerrigan stepped out first, then turned to help Christine. He then reached in his vest pocket and handed the man coins to cover the ride.

With his hand at the lower part of Christine’s back, he directed her into the building that apparently housed her solicitor. They walked down the corridor to a wooden and glass door with “Kendall– Solicitor” on it. A young man sitting behind a small wooden desk stood to greet them as they walked in. He then gushed over Christine, which Kerrigan had to admit annoyed him just a bit.

The office was small, but well-appointed. “If you will follow me, Mr. Kendall is waiting for you.”

They entered the man’s office, which was not quite as appealing as the outer office. Files were piled on various tables and the corner of his desk. The carpet was worn, and the walls in need of painting. He had a feeling the man was always too busy and disorganized to give the necessary time to having his workspace redone.

The solicitor was an older man, with a paunch and very little hair on his head. His face was a pleasant one, and his smile warm as he regarded Christine. “So you are married now, Lady Christine?”

“Lady Lindsay,” Kerrigan said.

Blushing slightly, she raised her hand where the very heavy ring hung. Another thing to do once they took care of this business and relaxed with some food was to find a jeweler and have his wife pick out a ring of her choice.

The one he’d brought with him was old, and possibly valuable, but since it was the only ring he could find before he left his home, he’d grabbed it. All other jewelry of value had been sold to keep the clan fed.

“Mr. Kendall, this is my—husband—Laird Kerrigan Lindsay from Scotland.” She turned to him. “This is Mr. Kendall, who has been our family’s solicitor for many years.”

The men nodded to each other, and Kerrigan pulled out a chair for Christine to sit. He settled himself, a tad uncomfortable since the solicitor obviously knew why they were here. He would also know that he would receive a great deal of money upon marriage to the former Lady Christine Spencer.

He shifted, feeling as if his body was comfortable, his brain would be also. In the short time he’d known her, he’d found his bonnie wife so intriguing and sweet that he was tempted to refuse the money, which was foolish since once her uncle grabbed it from her, it would be gone, anyway. And it would certainly not be used to feed hungry people. He needed her money to feedhishungry people.

“Laird, here is an accounting of the funds Lady Christine—I beg your pardon—Lady Lindsay owns.” He slid a document across the desk and pointed to a column of numbers. “These are all the holdings her father owned in property, stocks, investments, and money.”

He tried to pretend it was not an extraordinary amount, but since spending years as laird after his da died, he had developed an appreciation for financial security. Of which he’d had none, and apparently his wife had plenty. He nodded, his mouth drying. This was truly a fortune. And her uncle wanted to take it from her.

“Mr. Kendall, as we spoke of a few days ago,” Christine said, “since I am now married I am assuming that would keep my holdings from Uncle Carl’s grasp.”

The man nodded and Christine turned to Kerrigan. “May I have the certificate, please.”

Kerrigan reached into his jacket pocket, withdrew the document and handed it to her. She, in turn, placed it in the solicitor’s hand. “As you can see, it is all legal. We were married just this morning by a vicar with two witnesses.”

He smiled at her. “Lady Lindsay, I must say I have a great deal of respect for you. Most young women in your place would have spent her time wailing and complaining, and eventually doing as her uncle wanted.” He glanced at Kerrigan. “I expect you to take good care of your wife. Her uncle can be quite a cad, and sneaky. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean he will give up.”

Kerrigan nodded. “I can take care of my wife. No one will get near her or harm her.”

“Very well. I will have my secretary make several copies of the marriage certificate and send the documents to the necessary people to release your funds into whatever financial institution you wish.”

“That would be the Bank of Scotland in Edinburgh.”

Mr. Kendall studied the certificate. “How long do you intend to stay in London?”

Christine looked at him for an answer.

“How long do you think it will be for you to take care of what you need to do that requires our presence?” Kerrigan asked Mr. Kendall.

“If I press my secretary, I can give you the needed paperwork in a few days.”

Kerrigan nodded and sat back, satisfied.

“I have always lived in my papa’s house, as you know, Mr. Kendall. Can you recommend a hotel where we can stay while we wait?”

He thought for a minute. “The only places I am familiar with are traveling inns outside the city. However, I would be more than happy to let you stay in a townhouse owned by my brother who is currently on the Continent.”

“That would be wonderful, Mr. Kendall,” Christine said.