Niall took her by the arm and led her to the window. “Do you feel better now? Kemble seems like he knows his business.”
“I’m sure he’ll do his best, though it may be beyond any mere mortal.” Heather sighed, then brightened as a thought struck her. “What if I pretend to die? Uncle Cyril won’t harass a corpse.”
Niall frowned at that suggestion. “He won’t have to. Your fortune would immediately go to either him or me, depending on the court’s mood. You’d lose it all, and when you came back to life, you’d be a pauper.”
“Blast, I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“Heather, you know that you are welcome here, yes? You’ll have a home at Carregness. No matter what happens.”
She smiled at him, her heart melting a little at the words. Niall and his family were very delightful. It was too bad she and he weren’t in love. “I know that, Niall. But we also both know that any place I don’t want to be isn’t a home. It’s a cage.”
* * * *
A few days later, Niall and Robert found Heather in the great hall. Niall was smiling. “Ready for a piece of good news? Your uncle has left town.”
Heather brightened. “Really? How wonderful!”
Rob nodded. “I was keeping an eye on him. Earlier today, he paid up with Brodie and had all his things packed up and taken down to a coach traveling to London. Whether he’ll go all the way is another matter, but at least he’s leaving Scotland.”
“He may only go as far as Lancaster, to get a private coach back to Hayes House. Did Brom go with him?”
“Aye, and Mr. Webb as well, though he went in his own carriage with his own driver, since that’s how he got here.”
“That’s marvelous,” Heather said happily. “They must have given up when they realized that they’d be facing off against the earl himself now.”
“Actually,” Robert noted, in a slightly amused tone, “it seems that both your uncle and Mr. Webb had been losing very heavily in the local card games. They may have simply run out of money.”
Heather realized that her uncle’s latest letter had not included the usual ten-pound note. Perhaps Rob was right. Regardless, she was overjoyed to hear that they’d gone. It was as if she’d been under a cloud for weeks, and the wind had just pushed it onward, leaving her to soak in the sun at last. “Bless you, Rob. This is the best news!”
He grinned, and then went on his way, saying he needed some rest after his day of surveillance.
Heather turned to Niall. “I almost feel we should celebrate in some way.”
“A feast? Fireworks? Burning in effigy?” He took her hands in his, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiled. “Say your wish and it will be done.”
“Well, I was only thinking of a cake,” she admitted. “But burning in effigy does have a certain charm. A straw Uncle Cyril would make a jolly fire.”
“Then let’s do both. Tea and cake out by a bonfire. Could be the start of a new tradition.”
She laughed, and was conscious of the strong desire to lean in and kiss him. But then, a strange expression crossed Niall’s face. Heather followed his gaze, but saw only a blue-coated man waiting at the far end of the great hall.
“Who is that?” she asked.
“A local man,” Niall said shortly. “He’s here to speak to me.”
“Did he have business with your father? Is he here to offer condolences?”
“I doubt it. Excuse me, Heather. I’ll find you later.”
Chapter 18
When Niall saw the moneylenderMr. Ogilvy standing in his hall, he wanted to bolt. But that was not a thing lairds did, so instead Niall told the footman to make Ogilvy wait five minutes before escorting him up to the upper parlor as Niall decided to call it (he still hadn’t slept in the room, and didn’t think he ever would). Niall went up immediately and attempted to keep himself from grabbing a sword as he’d do if an enemy stormed the keep.
All too soon, the servant opened the door and announced his visitor.
“Yes, come in,” Niall said, with admirable calm.
Mr. Ogilvy entered and bowed. “My lord, please accept my deepest sympathies for your loss. And congratulations on your gain.”
