Return of the Prodigal Gilvry

by Ann Lethbridge

  Aleyne shook his head. ‘You have no idea how much he regretted... But I should let him tell you himself. He will be here tomorrow to meet with Lord Gordon.’

  ‘I’ll be here then, too,’ Drew said. To Rowena it sounded like a threat.

  ‘Good. He’s bringing Mother, too, to see a specialist for her lungs.’

  ‘Why the bodyguard?’ Drew asked abruptly.

  ‘Ian’s idea,’ Niall said. ‘There are some unsavoury elements who have caused us problems recently.’

  ‘Do they work for a man named McKenzie? They mistook me for Logan, at first.’

  Now, why was he not telling his brother everything with respect to the smugglers? Didn’t he trust him? Were there things about his family Drew hadn’t told her?

  ‘He does look like you, Drew,’ Niall said. ‘His hair is lighter and he doesna’...’ He winced.

  ‘His face isna’ scarred,’ Drew said. ‘It was what finally convinced the blackguards I wasna’ him. It seems like young Logan has been creating quite a stir.’

  ‘Aye. McKenzie is our competitor. Logan runs rings around him. The man would like nothing better than to see an end to him. You were lucky to escape with your life.’

  Drew looked at Rowena. ‘I had help.’

  That look warmed her through.

  Niall looked shocked. ‘You want to be careful. They are dangerous.’

  ‘So we discovered,’ Drew said.

  Rowena expected him to say more. To speak of his capture. He didn’t. He looked at her. ‘I should introduce you to my companion. Mrs Samuel MacDonald, this is Niall Gilvry, my brother, Lord Aleyne.’

  Aleyne stared at her open-mouthed and then looked from her to his brother. ‘Hell’s teeth! You have the missing MacDonalds?’ He turned to Rowena. ‘Is your husband with you?’

  Rowena gaped at him. ‘My husband is dead.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Drew asked at the same moment. ‘The missing MacDonalds?’

  Niall looked from one to the other. ‘Haven’t you heard? Mere died some weeks ago, in a boating accident. The lawyers for the estate have been trying to contact surviving family members.’

  ‘I have indeed been in contact with the Duke of Mere’s lawyers. The duke was named executor of my husband’s will,’ Rowena said.

  An odd expression crossed Aleyne’s face. ‘And how do you come to be involved in the case, Drew?’

  ‘Case?’ Drew said. ‘I was there when Samuel MacDonald met his end. I was tasked with bringing his remains home to his family.’

  ‘I see,’ Aleyne said thoughtfully.

  Drew narrowed his eyes. ‘Just what is it that you see?’

  ‘The matter was in all the papers. The search for the heir. The estate is in a state of limbo until all the relevant relations have been contacted.’

  Rowena stared at him. ‘No one mentioned any word of this. Indeed, I understood that the new duke was already in place. I never met him when I visited Mere Castle. I was told he was indisposed.’

  ‘It is all verra odd,’ Aleyne said. ‘To whom did you speak?’

  ‘Mr Jones, the duke’s lawyer,’ Rowena said.

  ‘Jones? Never heard of him. He certainly wasn’t the old duke’s lawyer,’ Aleyne said. ‘Carstairs and Raglin have served the Dukes of Mere for three generations. And I can tell you that there is no lawyer or clerk named Jones in their office. I deal with other clients of theirs on a regular basis.’

  ‘But he met us at Mere,’ Rowena said.

  Drew nodded in confirmation.

  Aleyne looked at her with consternation.

  ‘And then there was Lady Cragg,’ Rowena said.

  ‘And who might she be?’

  She looked helplessly at Drew. ‘I don’t know. I thought she must be the duke’s hostess. A member of his family. She was in charge of the servants.’

  ‘A distant cousin of the old duke, perhaps,’ Aleyne said. ‘There is no new duke confirmed as yet. Though there have, as I understand it, been a few claimants to the title.’

  ‘Surely a duke would know the identity of his heir,’ Rowena protested.

  ‘You would think so,’ Aleyne said. ‘But though we are calling him the old duke, he was younger than I am by a good bit and he was about to be married. I doubt he expected to cut his stick quite yet.’

  ‘Are you saying that you think that perhaps my husband might have been his heir?’ Rowena finally said. She’d kept trying not to think that this was what all this meant, but logically what else could it be?

  ‘Only someone from Carstairs and Raglan could say for certain. But he was one of those mentioned in the papers as being sought. Another is a small lad barely out of petticoats.’

  ‘I saw a small boy,’ Rowena said. ‘At Mere. He was playing in the gardens.’

  ‘Why didn’t they tell Rowena all of this?’ Drew asked.

  Rowena stiffened as Lord Aleyne’s sharp gaze went to her face at Drew’s use of her first name. She looked down her nose at Drew’s brother. ‘That is a question I would like answered,’ she said tersely. ‘Lady Cragg did mention the need for legal matters to be ironed out.’

  Lord Aleyne went to the hearth and leaned an elbow on the mantel, looking at them both with a frown. ‘I will speak to Will Carstairs. He’s a friend of mine. Of course, he won’t give away any confidences, but there are things he might be able to tell me. I will need the answer to a few questions before I see him.’

  ‘What would you like to know?’ Rowena asked.

  ‘First, is there proof of your husband’s death?’ Aleyne said.

  ‘There is,’ Drew replied. ‘We delivered his remains to Mere Castle on our way to Edinburgh.’

  Aleyne’s frown deepened.

  ‘There is something else I should mention,’ Drew said, leaning back. ‘This man Jones, who said he was the duke’s lawyer, seemed very insistent on establishing the exact date of Mr MacDonald’s death. Or at least, he was for a while. When I told him I didn’t have proof, he suddenly didn’t seem to care.’

  ‘Do you know the date of death?’ Aleyne asked in a strange tone of voice.

  Drew shot him a hard look. ‘Tell me why it is so important.’

  ‘The date, Drew,’ Aleyne said.

  ‘September fifteenth,’ Drew growled.

  ‘By all that’s holy,’ Aleyne whispered. ‘Are you sure?’

  Drew bristled. ‘I wouldna’ say it if I wasna’. I suppose now you will be asking me for proof.’

  Aleyne turned his gaze on Rowena. ‘If you have it, you are a very wealthy woman, your Grace.’

  * * *

  Drew felt the same as he had below decks on the ship. As if he was suffocating. Rowena stared open-mouthed at his brother.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ she asked.

  ‘If your husband died on the fifteenth of September, he died as the duke,’ Niall pronounced.

  ‘It doesn’t make him any less dead,’ she said.

  ‘But it makes you the dowager duchess.’

  Rowena’s eyes widened. ‘An empty title, Lord Aleyne.’

  Drew had a strange sense about where this was leading. He kept his face impassive and waited to see what his brother would say.

  ‘And there will be settlements and privileges that attain.’

  Drew felt his chest squeeze. ‘It all hinges on the date of MacDonald’s death, then.’

  ‘Do you have proof?’ Niall asked.

  An image of the page from MacDonald’s journal leaped to his mind. ‘Is my word not good enough for you either?’

  Niall cocked his head to one side. ‘Not when large sums of money are concerned. You would have to be proved a witness without any interest in the outcome.’

  ‘I have none,’ Drew said.

 
‘You are travelling together,’ Niall mused. ‘Which might not be a problem. I assume you have not—’ he hesitated and gave a grimace of distaste ‘—been indiscreet? Your past reputation for dalliance...’

  ‘That was years ago.’

  ‘A clever lawyer would not hesitate to use it if it suited him.’

  Drew bit back a curse at all lawyers.

  Niall looked at Rowena. ‘I assume you are travelling with a companion? Or a maid?’

  Rowena blushed fiery red and Drew wanted to hit Niall for making her look so embarrassed. ‘Mrs MacDonald’s private life is no one else’s business.’

  Rowena gave him a smile of gratitude, then shook her head. ‘Lord Aleyne is right. Innocent or guilty, facts will be twisted by others who have an axe to grind.’ She looked down her long nose at Drew. ‘We have spent more than one night alone together.’ Her blush deepened. She was, of course, embarrassed by what they had done.

  ‘It will be an expensive fight, Mrs MacDonald,’ Niall said regretfully. ‘And a difficult one without any proof.’

  She bowed her head. ‘It is your advice that we not make the attempt and I accept whatever they feel inclined to offer, then?’

  Niall sighed. ‘It might be. Let me consult with Carstairs before we come to a decision.’

  Bile rose in Drew’s throat. He didn’t want to deprive Rowena of what should be hers by right. A dowager duchess! Who would ever have guessed such an outcome?

  But if Drew offered the proof he had of the date, circumstantial evidence at best, and it was not accepted, the shameful revelations in the journal would have been made for nothing.

  No. They must take his word. The journal was a last resort. ‘We will hear what these friends of yours have to say before proceeding further.’ He looked at Rowena. She nodded.

  Niall bowed his head. ‘That is also my advice. Where are you staying?’

  Drew tensed. He didn’t want anyone to know where they were staying. He took a deep breath. This was Niall. Not a stranger. Not a renegade. Or a smuggler. ‘At Madam Belle’s.’

  Niall’s jaw dropped. He swallowed. ‘Interesting choice.’

  Rowena’s expression became remote. Drew glowered. ‘It’s where no one would think to look for us.’

  ‘McKenzie’s men,’ Niall said. ‘I’d almost forgotten. What the deuce is going on?’

  ‘Something to do with Logan.’

  ‘But they must know you are not Logan.’

  Rowena leaned forward. ‘Someone else means Drew harm. A man visiting Mere Castle. I heard him talking.’

  ‘Let it go, Mrs MacDonald. It’s not important,’ Drew said. It was something he would solve on his own.

  ‘Someone else?’ Niall’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice as he kept his suspicions firmly behind his teeth. Niall would never hear a word against Ian without proof, and that he didn’t have. Yet. ‘How long will it take for you to get the information from Carstairs?’

  ‘I should have something by noon. Come home with me and wait. I know Jenna would be thrilled to meet you. She’s heard so much about you. Us. Our antics as boys.’

  Had she heard about how he was banished from the family and why? ‘These men are trouble. You don’t need them at your house.’

  Niall nodded. ‘As I know only too well.’

  There was something in his face Drew didn’t quite understand, but he thought better of asking. He didn’t want to get too close to his brother. Not given what the future held.

  ‘I don’t want them showing up at Belle’s either,’ he said.

  ‘Where shall we meet, then?’ Niall asked.

  ‘In a private parlour at the Whitehorse Inn.’ It was public enough and had entrances and exits to make it a place of safety.

  Niall nodded. ‘When Logan arrives tonight, I’ll ask him if he has any idea of what McKenzie is about.’

  ‘He’ll be in the city, too?’

  ‘He and Charity are visiting for a few days. Ian called a meeting.’

  His gut lurched at the sound of his older brother’s name. He forced himself to remain impassive. ‘I suppose there’s no harm in asking Logan about McKenzie. What I need right now is a back door out of here.’

  ‘That I can do.’

  Drew brought Rowena to her feet and escorted her to the door. He opened it. Niall caught his arm as she passed through the door. ‘Drew,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Man, we’ve missed you.’ Drew shook off his hand.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Niall said. ‘Aren’t you glad to be home?’

  A lump of something hot seemed to stick in the back of his throat. ‘It’s complicated,’ he said and was horrified at the thick sound in his voice.

  * * *

  Drew paced back and forth across the private parlour in the Whitehorse Inn like a caged animal. And every time Rowena opened her mouth she closed it again, because she sensed that whatever was going on in his head, he would not welcome an interruption.

  Finally, he stopped and stared out of the window into the courtyard below, his body stiff and rigid.

  Unable to bear the tension in the room any longer, she took a deep breath. ‘Were we followed here, do you think?’

  He shook his head slowly and turned back to face her. There was resolution in his expression. ‘No.’

  ‘Then what is wrong, Drew?’ she said softly, treading warily.

  He reached inside his coat and pulled out a small book bound in blue leather. ‘Your husband’s journal.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said and frowned, a cold sensation rippling through her stomach. ‘It must contain some pretty damning things if you have kept it hidden all this time.’ Her husband must have said the same vile things about her in there as he had said to her face. How like Drew to want to protect her from Sam’s wicked tongue.

  His eyes widened. His mouth twisted in a wry grimace. ‘Damning. Aye.’ He held it out to her.

  ‘I don’t want to see it.’

  He hesitated, then thrust it towards her as if it was hot and he wanted to be rid of it. ‘You need it,’ he said. ‘It proves he was still alive two days after the duke died.’

  For a moment she couldn’t assimilate the words. ‘Proves?’ She rose to her feet and took the book. ‘You have had this all along and you said nothing?’ She shook her head, staring at the book he held out to her. ‘Of course. You had not yet read it. When did you discover...? Why say nothing to Lord Aleyne?’ She raised her gaze to his face and was shocked by the pain in his eyes and the cruel twist to his mouth. ‘Drew?’ she said.

  ‘I’ve known it all along,’ he ground out through a jaw clenched hard.

  ‘But—’

  ‘It didn’t suit me to hand it over.’

  An odd sensation ran down her spine. Her scalp prickled and tightened. What was he not telling her?

  Again he thrust it towards her and this time she took it, running her palm over butter-soft leather, still warm with the heat of his body. She started to open the cover.

  ‘Wait,’ he commanded. The usual shiver ran down her spine, but this was not the game they played at night. He was not in charge of what she did or did not do.

  She lifted the cover and moved to the window for more light.

  ‘Please, Rowena,’ he said.

  The agony in his voice halted her, made her look at him. She’d been wrong—he wasn’t angry, he was suffering from some sort of dread.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘There are some things I must tell you. Before you read what is there. Before you learn them from others.’

  She’d always known he was a man with secrets. That he would want to share them with her made her feel warm inside. She glanced down at the book, and then nodded. ‘Very well.�
��

  ‘It might be better if you sat down.’ The wry humour was back in his voice. ‘If you would.’ And he wasn’t telling her, he was asking. She returned to her seat by the hearth, the book clasped in both hands.

  He looked as if he wanted to continue his pacing, but instead he took the chair opposite and leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees, his gaze fixed on them. ‘I told you that I left Scotland in disgrace.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I didn’t tell you why I left Scotland. My brother Ian banished me from these shores.’

  ‘Does it matter? Your younger brother seemed delighted—’

  He cut her off with a quick shake of his head. ‘Likely Niall doesn’t know the full story.’ He raised his gaze to meet hers and there was sorrow and regret in the shadows of his eyes. ‘I seduced a woman and ruined her in the eyes of London society.’

  Shock stole her breath and she gasped. ‘Why?’

  His laugh was short and bitter. ‘She was an heiress. We needed money at Dunross. It was the quickest way to fill our coffers.’

  Her heart stilled. ‘Are you married, then?’

  ‘No. I picked her because she seemed such a practical wee lass. Not one to engage in flights of fancy. Or want to live in my pocket. I was wrong. It turned out she fell head over ears in love and then discovered I was just marrying her for her money.’

  ‘Oh.’ Just like Samuel. A pain seemed to grow around her heart.

  ‘Aye, oh. But it was too late by then. Everyone knew she’d been in my bed.’

  Shocked, she stared at him. ‘And you didn’t marry her?’

  ‘She wouldna’ have me. Not even to save her reputation. Ian got to learn of what I’d done. He was verra angry. Said he was ashamed of me. I’d dishonoured the family name. You would never have known he was only a year older than me, he gave me such a bear-garden jaw. He said it was best if I left the country and arranged with our clan chief for work in America.’

  She waited, terrified of what he might say next.

  He huffed out a breath. ‘Ian arranged that I would never come back.’

  She blinked. ‘He said you could never come home again?’