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Taffy, the housekeeper at Castle Kinglas, had been managing the place with the precision of a drill sergeant for decades.
“Och, she’ll get used to them,” Angus said with a casual wave of his pipe. “She always does.”
That was debatable, but the rest of them tactfully refrained from saying so.
“Can I have one of the puppies?” Joseph asked his great-grandfather in a hopeful voice.
“Ye’ll have to ask yer da, but I ken he’ll say yes.”
When Joseph shot a wary glance his way, Logan swallowed a sigh. “Of course you can, son. You can pick out whichever one you want, and that pup will be yours from now on.”
Joseph’s shyly grateful smile twisted his heart with guilt.
“You look like you could use this,” Graeme said, handing Logan a generous tot of whisky.
His half brother had been sitting quietly on the settee next to Victoria, before rising to pour out the drinks.
Graeme, once the biggest hellion in the family, was finally settling into a semblance of maturity now that he was well into his twenties. Unlike Grant, his twin, Graeme was still a restless soul, unsure what he wanted to do with his life.
He returned Logan’s smile then carried a glass to his grandfather.
Angus took a sip. “Not bad, but nothin’ as good as we used to brew—”
“Ahem,” Victoria loudly interrupted.
Angus and the twins had once run an illegal still on Kendrick lands. It had been a sore spot for Nick, who’d been forced to pay a large fine when excise officers stumbled across the operation.
“We don’t do that sort of thing nowadays, Grandda,” Graeme said.
Angus heaved a sigh. “It was grand while it lasted. Our brew was miles better than this Glasgow stuff.”
“It made a great deal of trouble for Nick,” Graeme replied. “We try to avoid that now.”
“It’s true,” Victoria said. “I can’t remember the last time you and Grant engaged in a brawl or had an unfortunate encounter with the local constables. You haven’t even broken any furniture.”
Angus thoughtfully eyed his grandson. “Ye’ve changed, lad. I hardly recognize ye.”
Graeme shrugged his broad shoulders, looking uncomfortable with the attention. “Everyone’s got to grow up eventually, Grandda, even me.”
Joseph stared up at his uncle, wide-eyed. “You look very grown up to me. You’re almost as big as Papa, and he’s a giant.”
Graeme squatted down and ruffled his nephew’s hair. “No one’s as big as your da, Joseph. But I’m thinking you’ll grow up to be as big as he is one day.”
“Do you work with my papa too, like Uncle Royal and Uncle Grant?”
Graeme straightened up. “No. I . . . I’m still thinking about what I want to do.”
“Trade isn’t for everyone, Graeme. There’s no shame in that,” Logan said.
“You never worked for Papa, did you?” Joseph asked, looking up at Angus.
The old man snorted. “Ye wouldna catch me dead working in some dusty old office in the city, lad.”
Logan had to swallow a tart reply.
“Grant and Royal enjoy working with your papa,” Victoria said to Joseph. “They’re both very good with numbers and organizing things.”
“I’m not exactly a booby with such matters,” Angus indignantly exclaimed. “Dinna forget I managed Kinglas when Nick and Royal were away fightin’ the war.”
