James nodded and held her gaze longer than he should have. Foolishly, he didn’t wish to be the one to break the connection between them. But Lady Lucy, clever woman that she was, did sofirst. After returning his nod, she lowered her gaze and then turned away to watch the line of carriages and cabs approaching the station to collect or drop off travelers.
He turned too, exiting the station and starting off in the direction the Wilson sisters had headed. In only a few minutes’ time, he’d reached the intersection of West Register Street and spotted the Guildford Arms. As the sisters mentioned, Café Royal was not far away.
Though he looked, James didn’t spot them among those at tables in the well-appointed restaurant, but he did spy a man at a window-facing table in the Guildford Arms, looking out expectantly. Could he be the Scottish solicitor?
Inside the crowded pub, James made his way to the man. “Mr. Abercrombie?”
“Aye, found me, you have.” The thin man in spectacles shot out of his chair and offered James a relieved look. “And I presume you are Lord Rossbury.”
James was sufficiently taken aback by the use of his honorific that he could only nod and settle into the other seat at the man’s table. The solicitor raised a hand to the barmaid. Not long after, a pint of ale he didn’t particularly want arrived at the table.
“Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”
“Aye, nae trouble, my lord. I received communication from Mr. Cathcart, your solicitor inLondon.” He indicated documents laid out neatly in front of him. “He refers to a property north of Edinburgh. I understand you’ve inherited all of it, the land, the house, and presumably the property therein.”
“I have.” James sipped at the ale and found it tastier than he’d expected. “Has there been any time to look into the property itself? Particularly its current state of repair?” He’d only reached out to the man days before and didn’t expect miracles, though what Cathcart had said about one of his uncle’s past mistresses being in residence gnawed at his conscience. Was she still there? Did she consider the pile hers, and, most importantly, had she allowed the whole thing to fall into disrepair?
“There’s been nae opportunity for anyone to make the trek as of yet, my lord.” He grinned a toothy, crooked smile and shot a bony finger in the air. “But I have secured a surveyor, you’ll be best pleased to hear. A man I’ve worked with before. Trustworthy. Efficient. He’s to get out as early as Monday if that suits.”
“As soon as possible.” James swallowed down another gulp of ale, and though it warmed his insides, he was beyond pleased when the barmaid deposited bread and cheese on their table too.
“If you dinnae mind a bit of impertinence, my lord, is there reason for the rush?”
The manwasimpertinent, definitely more sothan Cathcart would have been. But after the last few months, James had come to value straightforward, honest people more than he ever had in his life.
“I’ll let you be impertinent if you’ll allow me to be blunt. I need the funds, Abercrombie. Desperately.”
The solicitor nodded solemnly, seeming to understand James’s situation more deeply than James had yet to explain. Abercrombie shuffled his papers for a bit, and James watched the man’s bushy brows rise and fall while he made notations on a small pad of paper at the edge of the documents.
“The previous valuation is from nearly a decade ago, but just based on that sum, I could inquire into a loan for you with the manor house itself as collateral.”
“No more loans.” James was painfully linked to the worst reprobate in London because he’d been fool enough to take the man’s loan. Until that debt was cleared and James was solvent again, he wouldn’t borrow another penny.
“Understood. Then I will wait to hear from Dickson on Monday, and we will proceed from there.”
“Any notion of how long it will take to sell the place?”
“Hard to say. Much depends on the state of it.” He flicked a finger down the letter he said he’d received from Cathcart. “Lady Cassandra Munro?”
“My uncle’s mistress.”
“Knew her husband, I did.” The older man’s expression turned rueful. “An utter rapscallion. A charming one, but a rotter, nonetheless. If you’ll pardon me saying so, my lord.”
“Speak freely, Abercrombie. I prefer it.” James wasn’t sure precisely how much he wanted to know about the lady, especially if he was going to be forced to put her out once he reached Invermere. A flare of pity was already beginning to spark for a woman who’d traded a charming bounder for his cruel, humorless uncle.
“The husband still alive?”
“Nae, gone years back. Lost at sea. The man was a privateer.”
After his years in shipping, James knew of such men. Generally, they were intelligent, strategic, and fearless to a dangerous degree. “I truly hope she’s no longer in residence. Perhaps after the death of my uncle, the lady has moved on.”
Clearly, finding paramours was not a challenge for her.
“Could be, my lord. But if she remains there, I suspect she willnae be moved easily. She was a pirate’s wife and a curmudgeon’s lover. I’ve no’ met the lady, but she seems one to have a strong constitution.”
James tried and failed to stifle a groan. “Sounds as if you believe I have my work cut out for me.”
Abercrombie assessed James under his brows. “Oh aye, I most definitely do.”
