And to Scott’s novels, with their entertaining but—from Graeme’s point of view—sometimes silly depictions of Highland history. While Sir Walter published the novels anonymously, anyone with a brain knew who the author of Waverley was.
“Yes,” Aden replied. “As you also know, Sir Walter and my father are quite close. In fact, Scott has been instrumental in convincing the king that he is . . .” Aden paused, as if trying not to laugh. “The new Bonnie Prince Charlie, so to speak. True heir to the Stuart Dynasty.”
Graeme snorted. “You do realize how ridiculous that sounds.”
“Trust me, I do. My father has always had a colorful imagination, but that is hardly the point.”
“Then what is the point?” Graeme asked.
“The king is going to Scotland, and so are you.”
Chapter Seven
Edinburgh
August 1822
With its four bays, the elegant mansion on Heriot Row was the largest townhouse on the terrace. This was Graeme’s first visit to his family’s Edinburgh establishment, acquired after two Kendrick brothers had set up offices here—Braden for his new medical practice, and Logan for the expansion of his trading company. The house, in a prime location in New Town, a well-heeled, modern neighborhood above the old city, provided a home base for any family member with business in Edinburgh.
The true heart of the family and clan would always be Castle Kinglas. Then there was Kendrick House in Glasgow, always lively, especially now that Royal and Ainsley had recently returned from Canada. No matter how far each of them roamed, a Kendrick always returned home—and sooner rather than later, if the rest of the family had their way.
That tradition meant Graeme was in for a verbal drubbing now, since he’d only made one short visit to Scotland in the last two years. He had yet to even see Royal and Ainsley. While his work for Aden and the Home Office kept him busy, he doubted his family would see that as an acceptable excuse for his prolonged absence.
“Mister, ye takin’ yer bag or not?” The grizzled, stoop-shouldered driver stood patiently by his hackney coach, waiting to be paid.
“Oh, sorry,” Graeme said, shaking free from his reverie.
He retrieved his carpetbag and then fished coins from an inside pocket, handing them to the driver.
The man cast a shrewd look up at the house. “From the way yer hangin’ aboot in the street, I’m thinkin’ it’s been a while since ye’ve been home.”
“Two years in England.” Two years of avoiding his loving but meddlesome family.
“Och, that’s nae good, spending so much time with the Sassenachs. Families are a pain in the arse, but we canna live without them. It’s nae our way, no matter how much trouble they make.”
Graeme smiled. “Sounds about right.”
Suddenly, the front door opened, and a young woman appeared in the doorway. “Graeme Alexander Kendrick, why are you lurking about in the street? And why didn’t you tell us you would be arriving this afternoon? We would have sent the coach, you silly boy.”
The driver flashed a wry grin. “Trouble has found ye, I reckon.”
“You have no idea.”
The Countess of Arnprior, in keeping with her former role as a governess, made a point of schooling every Kendrick male in proper behavior, starting with her husband and working down the long line. When it came to Graeme and his twin, Grant, she’d had her hands particularly full. But they’d met their match in Victoria. She might look like a delicate English beauty, but she had an iron will and a loving heart that had combined to whip them into line.
The driver climbed into his coach. “Good luck to ye, lad.”
Graeme turned to greet his sister-in-law. Victoria stood, arms crossed, one foot impatiently tapping the step.
“Honestly, one would think you didn’t even wish to come in,” she said.
He picked up his bag and took the steps two at a time. “How could I not wish to see ye, bonny lass? Although I’m nae sure aboot the rest of that troublesome lot.”
“Not the brogue, Graeme. Please.”
When any of the family wished to tease her, they adopted the heaviest, most ridiculous brogue they could muster. He’d tried that on her the first time they’d met, and she’d all but bashed him over the head with the tea service.
With a wry smile, Vicky stretched up on tiptoes to give him a fierce hug.
Graeme gingerly hugged her back, since his sister-in-law was six months pregnant. With her tall, willowy figure, her belly seemed already huge, sticking out like a perfectly round ball. He adored her, but pregnant women made him nervous. They seemed so fragile, as if something could go wrong at any moment.
As she broke the embrace, she frowned. “You’re too thin, and there are circles under your eyes. Has Aden been working you too hard?”
“Not at all. I’m perfectly fine. Let me look at you. Are you well?”
“Fit as a fiddle. You know I’m stronger than I look.”
“Aye, strong as an ox, as your grandfather used to say,” came a familiar voice from the entrance hall. “Still, I’d prefer you come inside rather than loiter on the step with my reprobate of a brother.”
Graeme couldn’t hold back a wince when his brother, Nicholas, Laird of Arnprior, loomed up behind his wife.
“Sorry, Nick. I shouldn’t keep her standing about in the wind.”
“Nonsense. It’s a perfectly pleasant day,” Victoria said. “But we shouldn’t keep Graeme standing about. I’m sure he’s exhausted from his trip.”
Nick stepped aside as Victoria ushered Graeme into the lofty entrance hall, a grand affair with a molded and gilt-painted ceiling above a black-and-white marble floor. Will, the family’s senior footman, closed the door and waited to take Graeme’s things.
“Quite the place you’ve got here,” Graeme commented as he shrugged out of his traveling coat.
Instead of answering, Nick subjected him to a silent inspection, his sharp gaze as always not missing a thing.
“He does seem pale,” his brother finally said to Vicky, “and I do not like those circles under his eyes.”
Repressing a sigh, Graeme handed his coat and bag to Will.
“Welcome home, sir,” the footman said with a genuine smile. “It’s grand to see ye after all this time.”
“Yes, it has been a rather long time, hasn’t it?” Nick pointedly added.
Will cast Graeme a brief sympathetic look before discretely retiring. The footman, who had been with the family forever, recognized the signs of an impending sermon from Lord Arnprior.
All done in Graeme’s best interest, of course, but what Graeme thought in his best interest often conflicted with Nick’s definition of the term.
“Nicholas, you are not to lecture your brother in the hall,” Victoria said. “He just arrived.”
“I thought I’d wait until we got to the drawing room. Although I’d like to point out that you already delivered the first lecture.”
“True,” Graeme said. “So perhaps we could skip any subsequent ones.”
“It’s my duty as laird to let you know when you stray,” Nick said, his expression wry.
“Something you do quite splendidly,” Victoria noted.
“And with alarming regularity,” Graeme added.
“Hardly, since you’re rarely around,” Nick retorted. “Now, come here, ye cheeky lad.”
His brother pulled him into an enveloping hug. While Nick was tall and brawny, he didn’t match up with Graeme’s size.
Still, Graeme’s throat went tight. It was almost as if he were once more a small boy, running for comfort to the one person who’d always been there for him. More than their father, Nick had soothed his hurts, solved his problems, and knocked sense into him when he’d needed it.
For the first time in months, Graeme felt the twisted threads of his complicated life begin to unspool a wee bit.
Nick tightened his grip for a moment, then released Graeme and took a step back. Once more, that uncanny gaze swept over him.
Big brother’s frown again signaled he wasn’t happy with little brother’s apparent condition.
“I could use a drink,” Graeme said. “Then you can proceed with the appropriate lectures.”
Nick snorted. “My lectures are usually more effective after a wee dram, anyway.”
“They’re certainly easier to listen to,” Vicky said.
“None of your cheek, Sassenach, or you’ll find yourself on the receiving end of one of your own. In private, if you’re not careful.”
She gave an exaggerated sigh and rested her hands on her round stomach. “I do believe that’s how I arrived in this condition, dear sir.”
Nick waggled his eyebrows at her. “Practice makes perfect, my darling.”
Graeme held up his hands. “Och, you’re both making me queasy.”
In truth, he found their relationship incredibly touching. Nick and Victoria’s steadfast love for each other had greatly helped to heal the deep sorrows that had scarred the Kendrick family.
Vicky laughed. “We are rather nauseating, especially for such a fusty old couple.”
“Speak for yourself,” Nick said. “I’m in my prime, as I will be happy to demonstrate.”
Graeme shook his head. “It never ends, does it?”
His brother grinned. “All right, I’ll stop. Come upstairs and have a drink before you’re inundated by the rest of us.”
“How’s she holding up?” Graeme murmured to Nick as they followed Vicky. “Well, I hope?”
“You’re not to worry, lad. The doctor is very pleased with the state of her health.”
How could he not worry? Childbirth could be incredibly dangerous. His mother had died of the fever, only a few days after Kade was born.
“What does Braden have to say? Does he agree Vicky’s all right?”
“You do realize Vicky can hear you,” she said over her shoulder. “And she is in fine fettle, despite the fact that she looks like she swallowed a cannonball.”
She waited for them at the top of the stairs. “And if you think I’m going to let my brother-in-law deliver my baby, you are deranged. Family togetherness can only go so far.”
Graeme frowned. “Braden is the best doctor we know. You’ve said it yourself, many a time.”
“True, but he only just received his medical degree last year,” she replied. “A fact you would remember if you’d been here for the ceremony.”
“Sorry,” Graeme muttered. He’d wanted to be there for the lad’s convocation. Unfortunately, he’d been in Paris, dealing with a Russian spy who’d been causing a spot of trouble for the British ambassador.
“Victoria has an excellent physician and a midwife,” Nick said. “The best doctors in the country are in Edinburgh.”
“Still—”
“Victoria is strong,” Nick said firmly. “Trust me.”
“Yes, sir,” Graeme replied. “Sorry to cause trouble, sir.”
“Causing trouble is a Kendrick specialty,” Vicky said with a twinkle. “Go in and get a drink. I’ll round up the rest of the family.”
Graeme followed his brother into a lofty room with elegant plasterwork and a gleaming parquet floor partially covered by a woolen carpet in muted plaid. A white marble fireplace held pride of place, topped by a dramatic landscape of Castle Kinglas and Loch Long. Two red sofas sat opposite each other, and several well-padded armchairs, trimmed in green velvet, were grouped casually around the sofas. Polished round tables were laden with books and fresh flowers, but still had room for teacups or glasses. Everything was bang-up to the mark, including the wall sconces with Wedgwood medallions that matched the green of the chairs.
Naturally, a large pianoforte was featured near one of the window bays. With two accomplished musicians in the family, no Kendrick household was complete without one.
“What do you think?” Nick asked as he headed to a large sideboard and its collection of decanters.
“It’s splendid.” Graeme strolled over to look out the window at the expansive green space across the street. “And a damn sight better than anything in Old Town.”
Although there were many fine buildings in the historic parts of the city, much of Old Town was a crowded warren of sadness and decay. New Town, with its elegant townhouses, mansions, and green squares, had been built in the hope of attracting investment and revitalizing the city’s fortunes.
Nick handed him a crystal glass with a generous tot of whisky. “Your sister-in-law has enjoyed spending our money to kit the place out.”
“She’s earned the right, putting up with us.”
“Aye. Though to be fair, it was more Logan’s money than mine.” Nick shook his head with fond exasperation. “The bloody idiot wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Och, Logan is rich as Midas. Besides, he likes to spend money on the family. It’s his way of—”
Graeme caught himself. He’d been about to say that spending money was Logan’s way of making up for the mistakes of the past and his former estrangement from Nick.
“I know,” Nick said, “but it’s not necessary.”
“It probably is for Logan. We all carry around our past, and some parts you can never truly put to rest. All you can do is try to make things better, both for yourself and for the people you love.”
When his brother tilted his head in a thoughtful inspection, Graeme wished he’d kept his bloody mouth shut.
“When did you turn into such a wise old soul?” Nick finally asked.
“Never is the answer. I’m the same reckless idiot I’ve always been.”
“You were never an idiot, although you and Grant worked hard to convince me otherwise.”
“Grant has the brains between the two of us. You know that.”
“I’ll agree he’s doing very well working for Logan. Lad’s got a head for numbers, which was a surprise to all of us, I think.”
“Not to me.”
Graeme had always known his twin had both a sharp mind and a kind soul. Grant’s unstinting loyalty had been the true gift of Graeme’s life. Even in the worst of times, when their family had cracked under too many tragedies, Grant had been a steady and faithful presence.
When they’d finally struck out on their separate paths, it had been wrenching for both of them. He suspected Grant had managed it better than he had. There’d been many a difficult day—and darker night—when Graeme had wished desperately to see his twin. Grant understood him as no one ever had, and probably more than Graeme understood himself.
“Grant’s worth twice of me,” he said softly.
Nick lightly punched his shoulder. “Fah. You’re equally fine men, and we’re all proud of you.”
“I was nothing but trouble for you, Nick. You didn’t deserve what I put you through.”
“Laddie, is there something you wish to tell me?” his brother quietly asked.
A million things, but he hadn’t the words to express them. “No, but maybe someday.”
“I’m here for you, Graeme. Always.”
His blasted throat went tight again. “I know.”
“And you can have a good chat with Grant. He should be rolling in from Glasgow in the next day or so.”
Graeme propped a shoulder against the corner of the window bay. “Where’s everyone else? Seems too quiet for a Kendrick household.”
“I’m here,” said Royal as he strode through the door. A broad smile lit up his lean features and made his green eyes glitter like emeralds. “Damn, it’s grand to see you, laddie boy.”
Graeme met him halfway and enveloped his brother in a bear hug. “I missed ye more than I can say. Thank God yer finally home.”
Royal and Ainsley’s return was a great, unalloyed blessing. Still, Graeme would eventually have to tell them about his encounter with Cringlewood, and about Sabrina’s troubles with the bastard, too. He hated the notion of calling up such ugly ghosts from the past.
As for Sabrina, he’d been doing his best not to think about the lass at all.
“Wha
t’s wrong?” Royal asked sharply.
Graeme refocused. “Nothing at all.”
When he once more found himself under a narrow-eyed inspection, he grimaced.
“Victoria’s right,” Royal said. “You’ve been working too hard.”
Graeme gave him a halfhearted shove. “Are you all going to treat me like a child? If so, I’ll be on the next mail coach out of town.”
“Let’s talk about that,” Nick said. “You know I would have been happy to pay for a private chaise. There was no need for such austerity, Graeme.”
True, but Graeme had gotten used to a simpler life. In fact, he liked being mostly anonymous, taking on different roles for his work and spending most of his days on the fringes of society. It was easier to pretend to be someone other than who he truly was—a Kendrick, with all the complications that came with so distinguished a name.
He shrugged. “I like the mail coach.”
“No one likes the mail coach,” Royal said.
Vicky reentered the room. “I expect he wanted to sneak up on us. Now that he works for my brother, he’s gotten very secretive.”
“We’re supposed to be secretive. It’s part of the job.”
She settled onto one of the sofas. “Don’t think we won’t be having a chat about your job, Graeme Kendrick.”
Vicky, the overprotective lass, had never approved of his work.
He pretended to inspect the large medallion encircling the chandelier. “And this is exactly why I don’t come home very often.”
“You never come home anymore,” Nick said.
“I did last year, before Logan and Donella left for Halifax.”
“And barely stayed a week,” Nick replied with brotherly disapproval.
“Well, he’s here now,” said Royal, taking pity on Graeme. “Everyone will be thrilled, especially the children. They’re out for a drive with Angus, but should be home any minute.”
“Grand. By the way, where are Kade and Braden?” Graeme was eager to see his youngest brothers.
When Vicky and Nick exchanged a quick glance, Graeme’s heart jerked painfully against his ribs. Kade had suffered from ill health when he was younger. Had he fallen sick again?
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