“Aye,” came a deep voice from behind them, “that he will."
Phoebe turned to see a man, Kiernan's height, with the same striking build, striding toward them.
“Your Grace.” Lord Stoneleigh affected a bow.
“Regan,” he replied.
Phoebe’s mouth dropped open as His Grace, the Duke of Ashlund, shifted his attention onto her. “You’re his father,” she breathed.
“If by 'his father' you mean, the father of Kiernan MacGregor, aye, lass, I am.”
Phoebe reddened. “Forgive me, Your Grace.” She lowered into a deep curtsy. “I-it is just that I—" She rose. “Forgive me, Your Grace, I have had a trying day.”
“So I see.” He turned to survey the cottages. “I was under the impression my son had some idea what happened.”
“He sent word informing you of the fire?” she asked.
“Aye.” The duke strode to the cottage Lord Stoneleigh stood nearest. “This would have been Evvana and Logan’s cottage. Where are they staying?”
“Winnie made space for them in the castle. The couple who live in the other cottage is away.”
“In Graham country, visiting her family,” the duke said.
He went to the other cottage and stepped across the threshold with the same care Kiernan had demonstrated. His gaze moved along the ruins. “There is nothing to salvage here. Work on a new cottage will begin immediately.” He turned. “But that will be tomorrow. The day is nearly done. Shall I escort you back to Brahan Seer?”
Phoebe cast a glance at Lord Stoneleigh, then said to the duke, “We were leaving, Your Grace. I must return to England right away.”
"Surely you can spare an hour?"
"As you can see, it's growing late. We had hoped to reach the Green Lady Inn before dark."
"I spoke with Winnie, lass."
A shock reverberated through Phoebe. Winnie had informed the duke of his son’s indiscretion.
“Marcus,” interrupted a passing villager. “‘Tis been a season since we’ve seen you.”
“Aye,” he replied. “Too long. The twins keep Elise busy. She sends her regards.”
“Those rascals, eh?” The man beamed. “Are they giving you trouble?”
“Not nearly so much as my eldest son, I suspect.”
Phoebe choked back a groan.
“What has the rogue done?” the man inquired with a grin.
“That,” the duke said, “is what the lass, here, is about to explain. Would you excuse us, Wallace?”
“Aye, Marcus. We will see you later?”
The duke clasped his arm. “You will,” he said, and looked at her. "Shall we?"
Phoebe nodded and she and Lord Stoneleigh fell into step alongside him.
“Would you mind beginning with your name?" the duke asked.
“Phoebe Wallington.”
She startled when his head snapped in her direction. “Wallington?" he repeated.
"Yes, my uncle is Charles Wallington, Viscount Albery. Do you know him?”
He shook his head. "Nay. I knew a Wallington, a man in Inverness. I'm pleased you're not related to him."
Her heart suddenly pounded. "May I ask why, Your Grace?"
"The man was a cold-blooded killer." Before she could digest his answer, he said, “Why is Viscount Albery's niece visiting Brahan Seer?” She dropped her gaze, and he added, “Is it so bad that you fear telling me, Miss Wallington?”
“Your Grace, I ask that you leave the matter between me and your son.”
He looked at Lord Stoneleigh as they started up the hill. “Have you anything to say, Regan?”
“As the lady, says, Your Grace, this is between her and Lord Ashlund.”
“I can always ask Winnie.”
Phoebe inhaled sharply.
“You don't strike me as the sort of young woman who traipses about the country with men.”
“I assure you, I am not.”
“Good. So, when we arrive at Brahan Seer, I expect you both to go directly to my library. I will ask Winnie to join us.”
“Your Grace,” Phoebe said, “I beg you, leave the matter.”
“He's my son. I cannot.”
Phoebe steadied her breathing. “No need to ask Winnie to join us. She knows very little of the matter.”
“A heartening thought,” he replied as they crested the hill.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Four days travel had tired Kiernan. He entered Brahan Seer’s great hall desiring nothing more than a good meal and several scotches. He made his way through the crowd gathered for the evening meal. The last three men who stood between him and the table stepped aside and Kiernan halted upon seeing his father seated at the head of the table. He noticed Heddy sitting on his father’s left and frowned.
“Evening, Kiernan,” the duke said.
“Father,” he replied, and started forward.
His father raised a brow just as a hand clasped Kiernan's shoulder from behind.
“Well, now,” came the voice of Regan Langley.
Kiernan faced his friend. An odd light played in Regan’s eyes and Kiernan looked back at his father. “What's wrong?”
The duke only stared at him.
“Damnation, Father, what is it? Is something amiss with the twins—Elise?”