She gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes, then hugged him hard once more. "Come inside. Mother is out taking a drive around the park, but Grandfather is in the saloon. I was on my way downstairs to meet him when I saw you ride up.
I'm dying to hear all about your visit to Scotland. Mother has this wild story about you and a kilt."
"It's a feileadh mor," he murmured, distracted.
She shot him a sidelong look. "Now this is one story I have to hear. That and how it is that you left that Scottish castle empty-handed while Mother left it with the Declaration of Independence in her baggage."
"It's a long story."
"Then you do know she has it? The news isn't a surprise?"
"Look, I'll explain everything, but I think I'd better talk to Mother about it, first."
His sister angled her head to one side and studied him. He saw in her eyes the moment she made up her mind. "I think I should warn you. Mother has a special guest with her. Jake, she has a beau. His name is Lord Harrington and he is very nice. I think she likes him a lot. I know she is anxious for you to meet him. Isn't it wonderful?"
"Wonderful, yes." Harrington obviously had kept his mouth shut. At least something had gone right.
Inside, waiting to face his mother and the music, Jake shared a lemonade and small talk with his grandfather and his sister, then wandered out back to look for Cole, who had gone for a walk in the statue garden. Jake found him seated on a bench, chucking pebbles at Zeus. "I thought you might be here. You are a creature of habit, Morgan."
"Well, well, well. If it's not Bonny Prince Jake, home from the Highlands at last. I hear you've taken to wearing dresses since the last time I saw you."
"Haud yer wheest, Morgan. That way I won't knock out your teeth when I hit you again for trifling with my sister."
"Haud my what?" Cole arched a brow as he rubbed his jaw. "Look, Delaney, I never once trifled with Christina. For me, it was always dead serious."
"I hear you got it right, anyway."
A quick smile slashed across Cole's face. "She told you?"
"She told me." Jake shook his friend's hand and clapped him on the back. "Congratulations. This is great news. Truly great. And by the way, just in case you're worried, I've recently learned all the ins and outs on how to prevent fairies from stealing a newborn baby."
"That's good to know. The fairy activity in Texas is on the rise." After a moment's pause, he warned, "Christina is already whining about you coming home with us and putting off your trip until after the baby is born. She's dead set against your running off to Australia, you know."
"I'm not running off. I'm going exploring. There's a difference."
"I know that and you know that. Tell it to Chrissy and Elizabeth."
The mention of his mother put a pall on Jake's spirits and he scowled and threw a whole handful of pebbles at Zeus. Cole clicked his tongue. "Looks like I touched a nerve. What's the matter? You look like you just lost your favorite dog."
"I sorta did."
"You have a dog?"
"Yes. I left her with a friend."
"Ah-hah. Female, I presume."
"Nine years old."
"Oh."
"Well, I guess you can't take a dog on your travels, can you? Now that Elizabeth has the Declaration, you're free to go. No more responsibilities and obligations weighing you down. Christina is my problem now, and it looks like your mother has found someone to keep her company."
"Mother wants to marry him, Cole. Has she told you that?"
The strange look on his brother-in-law's face told Jake the news came as no surprise. "Chrissy blabbed, huh? Your mother wanted to tell you herself."
"No, Chrissy didn't tell me."
"So how do you know about Harrington?"
Jake chucked a large pebble at the statue, hitting it square on the nose. "Let me put it this way. Do you know anyone who's in the market to buy a Highland castle?"
Cole eyed him thoughtfully for a long moment, then sadly shook his head. "Hell, I've seen that same look on your sister's face more times than I can count. What have you done, Delaney?"
Because Cole was more like a true blood brother than just a brother-in-law, Jake told him most of the story. When he was finished, Cole whistled soundlessly. "You spied on Elizabeth? She's gonna be mad enough to eat bees."
"I'm not going to tell her that part, and I didn't mean to spy on her. She was in his bedroom. Kissing him!"
Cole winced. "Don't. I don't need to know about that. I don't need the vision in my mind. What are you going to do?"
"I have to talk to my mother." He took a seat on the bench beside Cole and grabbed another handful of pebbles.
"She's going to be furious with you. I doubt she'll be too happy with Harrington, either. I can't believe he didn't tell her you were there."
"He gave his word and he kept it. You can't fault a man for that," Jake replied glumly. After a few more minutes ticked by in silence, he asked, "You think she'll help me talk Harrington into buying a ghostless Rowanclere?"
"Honestly? You don't have a snowball's chance in San Antonio in August." Cole shook his head. "Don't ask me why, but he's really interested in this ghost stuff. He wants a haunted castle."
"I know, but I have an idea about that. Lots of castles and houses and inns in the Highlands claim to have ghosts, and Rowanclere offers a nice, central location for visiting many of them. If he bought Rowanclere, he could study dozens of places within a day's ride of the castle. He could keep himself busy for years. Lord Lothario doesn't need to actually have in a haunted house." Jake paused for a moment, scowled, and added, "Especially if he's living with my mother."
"Lord Lothario?" Cole dryly asked.
"Don't give me grief. I learned the term from you, after all. Remember? When you spoke of one of Chrissy's beaus?"
"Don't talk about that, either." Cole threw a rock that hit Zeus directly on his male glory. Both Cole and Jake winced. "When are you gonna talk to your mama?"
Jake sighed. "Just as soon as she comes back from her drive and I can work up my courage."
Cole rose and brushed dust from his hands onto his pants. "In that case, I think I'll take my bride and pay a visit to the fishing pavilion. It's just about our favorite spot here at Hartsworth, and it's nice and isolated."
"Thanks for your support."
"Anytime, son. Anytime." Cole slapped him on the back. "Good luck. Jake. You're gonna need it."
His words proved prophetic. An hour later Jake found himself wishing he'd brought his lucky rabbit's foot with him from Texas. It looked as if he might need some outside help to survive this exchange. He'd never before seen his mother this angry, not even when dealing with some of Chrissy's antics.
"I cannot believe this!" Elizabeth Delaney exclaimed. "I cannot believe you would pull such a wicked, mean-spirited trick in order to deceive a fine man like Lord Harrington. Why, Jake? Why act in such a dishonest manner?"
"I was out-lawyered, I'm afraid." He told her about the "debt" Gillian and Angus felt they owed the Delaney family for Chrissy having rid the world of Lord Bennet last winter.
"Besides," he finished, "no one can say with total certainty that Rowanclere isn't haunted. Could be that its ghosts are just shy compared to those in other abodes around the Highlands. That's part of the reason why I'm hoping you will convince Lord Harrington to purchase Rowanclere from Angus Brodie after all."
Flabbergasted, she sank into a chair. "What?"
Jake explained about Gillian and Robyn, and how they would be all but destitute upon their grand-uncle's death. He told her what a good person Gillian was and how hard she worked at caring for the little girl who, by the way, reminded him so much of Chrissy. He explained how desperately she wished to bring ease to her grand-uncle's final years. He also added in a bit about how guilty she'd felt for the necessity of pretending Rowanclere had ghosts, even though he skirted the truth on that one.
As he talked, his mother gradually relaxed. She sat back in her seat, folded her arms, tilted her head, and listened. When her eyes narrowed in speculation, Jake felt the first glimmer of unease. What was she thinking?
He figured he was better off not knowing.
When Jake wound down, having delivered all the arguments he could think of for encouraging his mother's help, she watched him silently, pensively for a few moments before observing, "You don't need Harrington to help, Jake. You have the power to solve this imbroglio yourself."
He laughed uneasily. "I don't see how. I may not be hurting for money, but I don't have near enough to buy a castle like Rowanclere."
"Think, Jake. I know you've dismissed me when I brought it to your attention months ago, but after hearing this story today, I don't think you can in good conscience ignore the fact you have a fortune at your disposal."
Jake didn't know what she was talking about. Well, at least, he didn't think he knew. He knew he didn't want to think about it too much. "Mother, I'll talk to Lord Harrington if you prefer. I thought it only right to explain what happened before I went any further with it. I thought—"
"Your trust fund, Jake," she interrupted. "You know your grandfather established a trust fund for both you and Chrissy earlier this year. You know it comes to you upon your marriage."
A shudder crawled up Jake's spine. "But that's—"
"More than enough funds to buy that pretty Scottish castle. It was beautiful. Right out of a fairy tale."
"I don't want—"
"You owe the girl, of course. I must say I did like Gillian. She's a pretty thing, too, don't you think? Yes, it's only right, Jake."
"But Harrington—"
"Wants a haunted castle, not Rowanclere. He won't bail you out of this trouble. You will have to take care of that yourself."
"Oh, no." His knees weak, Jake sat on a nearby settee and plopped his head back against the cushion. "No... no... no."
His mother reached over and patted his knee. "You do have a responsibility to Gillian and her family. You did ruin her plan. It's a matter of honor, son, and I know your honor is one thing you rightfully hold quite dear. Isn't it handy, though, that this problem can be solved so simply?"
"Simple, Mother?"
She shrugged. "You can be the new laird of Rowanclere Castle. Isn't that exciting?"
"Mother, you don't know what you are asking."
"I'm not asking anything. You are the one who must do that. Come, now, Jake. Don't be so glum. This problem you created for yourself is easily fixed. All you must do is marry Gillian Ross."
* * *
A heavy gray mist rolled in off the loch as Gillian arranged a cheerful bouquet of flowers in a vase to take up to Uncle Angus. It was the second arrangement she'd made that day, the first having been lost when Robyn chased Scooter down a hallway and careened into Gillian, knocking the vase from her hands.
She gave her sister a gentle scolding about running in the house, saving her most harsh remarks for personal grumblings about Jake Delaney. "How dare he go off and leave us to care for that pesky pet," she muttered to herself. "Never mind that Robyn begged him to leave the dog behind. That is beside the point. He kept the animal as long as it suited him, then dumped her on another without a backward glance. How like a man."
Unless he'd told the truth about coming back to Rowanclere. Unless he did intend to return for the dog.
Gillian would like to believe his promises, but she didn't. She had been burned by a man's promises before. A part of her realized her doubts in Jake might be unfounded. Perhaps he had told the truth when he'd promised to return with sales papers for Rowanclere ready to be signed. However, the cynic in her thought that about as likely as Loch Rowanclere going dry overnight.
As she climbed the stairs to the Crow's Nest carrying a breakfast tray for Uncle Angus, she wondered where Jake Delaney was at that particular moment in time. Two weeks had passed since his leave-taking. Was he already aboard a ship headed south?
"Oh, stop thinking about him," she scolded herself. Her lack of control over her own thoughts infuriated her. "You do not care where he has gone. Tahiti or Tipperary or Tibet—it does not matter. It likely won't be Rowanclere. You'll probably never see the man again."
Yet, if that was what she believed, then why did she keep finding excuses to climb the towers and watch the road? Unhappy with the direction of her thoughts, Gillian entered Angus's chamber wearing a scowl.
Her grand-uncle slowly opened his eyes, gazed at her, then shut them once more. "The death bogle his come for me."
"Are you not the funny one," she replied dryly.
"'Tis a fearsome look you are wearing, lass." He struggled to sit up in bed, but when she went to assist him, he pushed her away. "You have the same expression as our Robbie once she realizes she's eaten the last biscuit in the tin. What has put the thistle in your skirt?"
"Naught is wrong. I am just wishing for a little sunshine, that is all."
Ignoring his disbelieving snort, she asked, "Where would you like your tea? In bed or at the table?"
"The table."
She placed the vase of flowers atop a bookshelf, then transferred his breakfast to the table beside the fire. Seeing his wince as he attempted to rise, she hurried to assist him from his bed. "You've a steenge in your joints this day, I see."
"Aye. It's a bad thing when a man canna climb from his own bed himself. I'll feel better once I've moved about a bit. I want to come downstairs today. Robbie tells me she's taught the bawtie a new trick."
"How to break vases," Gillian grumbled.
Once he was seated, Angus gestured toward the stack of papers atop his bedside table. "When you leave, please take these downstairs and see them posted. I have written notices for newspapers in London and America. If we do not hear from young Delaney within the week, I am placing advertisements about the sale of Rowanclere."
Dismay filled her. "Advertisements? But, Uncle Angus, we decided against that. We decided to be discriminating about potential buyers in deference to Mrs. Ferguson and the villagers."