“Yer uncle hoped ye’d be convinced to come up and marry some nice Scots girl, but I suppose yer da would have somewhat to say about that?”
Giff did not even want to imagine his father’s response to him finding a local Inverness girl to wed. “That would be one way of putting it.”
“That’s what I told Angus.” Kennedy went on to explain how the whisky business worked.
Then the discussion turned to sheep, Cheviot sheep in particular, that were raised for their wool. “Ye understand that the Dewar family did no’ turn out their people. They moved some houses, but made it all work to benefit everyone,” he said.
Giff had learned of the enclosures and the number of people who’d been made homeless as a result. He’d always felt that was the reason his maternal grandfather insisted he spend time with the family. He would, eventually, be in the Lords and responsible for governing the country. One thing had made him curious. “I would have expected you to stay here. What made you decide to get a hotel room?”
The older man rubbed his chin. “It’s not so much a hotel as boarding house. It’s run by a Scotswoman. Angus didn’t want us bothering yer da.”
“I understand.” Someday that would change, Giff hoped.
They closed the books and put them in the bags. “What will be the protocol when I am in England?”
Kennedy slung the strap of a bag over his shoulder. “I’ll send any correspondence ye need to sign or approve by express. I’d appreciate it if ye got it back as soon as ye can.”
Giff nodded. “I’ll keep you advised of where I am.”
“Thank ye.”
His son grabbed the rest of the bags and grinned. “It was a pleasure to meet ye.”
“I’m glad to have met you too.”
The father donned his hat. “Yer not nearly as ignorant as Angus thought ye’d be.”
Before Giff followed the steward and his son out of his parlor, he glanced at Quinney, who grinned. It had been a very good idea to have him here. After the Kennedys left, Giff turned to Quinney. “Do you have any suggestions as to how I can acquire more information about the sheep and the whisky?”
“Other than speaking with other people involved in those businesses, there should be books about them. Hatchards will either have them or can order them for you.”
“I’ll stop by today. Thank you again for your help.”
Quinney smiled. “It was my pleasure. I enjoyed seeing how other properties are run.” He pulled a face. “Now back to the law.”
Giff barked a laugh. “I take you’re glad you didn’t decide to be a barrister.”
The other man’s look changed to one of horror. “God forbid. Give me a horse and land to look after any day, even a cold and rainy one.”
What would it have been like to have been able to learn about the estate instead of being left to his own devices? At least he’d never gone into debt or drank to excess. Well once each. That had been more than enough. His stomach growled. Gunn had kept them in sandwiches and tea, but Giff was still hungry. He’d have to eat something before he went to collect Alice. He supposed he should think of her as Lady Alice, but last night after a particularly erotic dream that involved her in his bed, he’d decided she’d be his wife, and he might as well get used to calling her by her name.
Gun brought him more sandwiches, some apples, and a newssheet devoted to the royal family. Now he’d have something to talk about that would interest her. An hour and a half later, he pulled up in front of Worthington House. After hopping down, he threw the ribbons to a groom, and strode the short way to the front door that opened for him.
The butler bowed. “My lord. Lady Alice will be down shortly. Indeed, as he looked up the main staircase, she was descending. She wore a pale green gown embroidered with small flowers, and a spencer that hugged her form. On her head was a medium crowned bonnet decorated with flowers that had a modest brim and a wide ribbon. He was glad he could see her golden curls beneath it. God, she took his breath away. To think he’d be spending the rest of his life with her.
Giff moved to the stairs and held out his hand. “My lady.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “My lord.”
Alice said a short prayer that Lord St. Albans would be as pleasant as he’d been the day before. He was so handsome it would be a shame if he was not. He escorted her to his glossy black curricle with gold trim and two beautiful, perfectly matched white horses. “They are beautiful! What made you decide to choose white instead of black horses?”
When he lifted her up into the seat, she had trouble breathing. He must be holding her too tightly. “It was by chance. I was going to purchase a pair of blacks, but I couldn’t find any that would do. Most of them were purely for show. Then I saw these fellows.”
Lord St. Albans went around to the other side and climbed in, took up the ribbons, and started the horses out of the square. “They are certainly a handsome pair.”
He flashed her a smile that warmed her. “Did you hear the queen has decided to come to the coronation to be crowned? Word has it the king will not allow it, but she has a great deal of support from the people.”
Alice had not heard about it, nor did she care. “I had not.”
