She wouldn’t be going alone. Gregory didn’t say so, just dipped his head in understanding.
Indeed, if he and she were to marry, as he was now determined they would, they would need to make peace with the mountain and with the rest of her family as well. In pursuit of that goal, he stirred and, when Caitlin and Rory glanced his way, smiled easily at Rory. “If you’re not in any hurry to return to Scotland, why not stay awhile—a week at least—and see for yourself what Caitlin’s life here is like? If, as seems likely, on your return, you’ll need to argue your and her cases with your father, then the most convincing evidence is what you can claim to have seen with your own eyes.”
Rory’s expression lightened. “Aye.” He nodded. “That’s a good thought.”
“Caitlin will be able to show you around”—Gregory glanced encouragingly at her—“and you’ll see how Bellamy Hall operates. That’s something you’ll need to appreciate in order to understand Caitlin’s position here.”
Rory shot a faintly puzzled look at Caitlin, then redirected his gaze to Gregory. “Isn’t this the usual sort of estate?”
Gregory felt his lips twitch into a wry smile. “Not quite.” He paused, then went on, “Those people you met earlier weren’t guests. They’re all members of the Hall household, and each of them owns one of the businesses that operates from the estate.”
Rory frowned. “I did wonder about that—what they were all doing here and why you could leave them to entertain themselves.”
“They all live under the Hall’s roof,” Caitlin told him. “And there are others who manage other enterprises and live elsewhere on the estate.”
Between them, she and Gregory gave Rory a quick introduction to the Bellamy Hall estate and the concept of the Hall fund and how it operated. He was plainly intrigued and asked several questions. In some cases, those questions themselves answered some of Gregory’s own queries regarding the Benbeoch estate, while others gave him openings to tease information from Rory and from Caitlin as well without having to own to any personal interest.
Eventually, Rory admitted that he wasn’t keen to return to Scotland without Caitlin in tow. “Not for the moment, anyway.” He directed a quizzical glance at Caitlin. “Who knows? While looking around this estate of yours, I might find my own place to stop for a while.”
Gregory found that suggestion interesting, not least as it underscored the truth of Rory’s claim that he harbored no aspirations regarding Benbeoch Manor.
He tried to visualize the manor. “Where, exactly, is Benbeoch Manor? If it’s close to the road to Ayr, I must have passed it on several occasions.”
Both Rory and Caitlin looked surprised.
It was Rory who answered, “Nay, you can’t see the house from the road. It’s tucked away beyond the village, on the flank of Benbeoch itself.”
“Ah, I see.” He nodded. “I remember Dalmellington and the mountain.”
Frowning in puzzlement, Caitlin asked, “Why would you have been on that road? It’s hardly a major route to Edinburgh or Glasgow.”
He smiled. “But it is the most direct route from the Vale of Casphairn to the nearest semblance of civilization.”
Caitlin shifted to stare at him. “You know people there? In the Vale?”
He grinned. “My cousins—I suppose, technically, they’re second cousins—live there. Lucilla is currently the Lady of the Vale, and her twin, Marcus Cynster—”
“Is the owner of the old Hennessy estate! Aye, and he manages the Carrick estate as well, although it’s his wife who’s the lady there.” Smiling broadly, Rory thumped a fist on his knee. “IknewI recognized the name from somewhere.”
Caitlin was still staring at Gregory. “You’re related to the Lady of the Vale?”
He nodded. “Her father is one of my father’s cousins.”
“Well!” Rory sat back. He continued to look delighted. “A small world, it certainly is.”
Caitlin stared at Rory’s now-delighted face and decided she was delighted as well. Although Gregory’s connection to the Vale of Casphairn had come as a complete surprise, that meant he was acquainted with the sometimes-different Scottish ways and, therefore, would have a better understanding of her situation.
She was also fairly certain that her big, blustery cousin was, indeed, looking for some way to remain, if not specifically on the estate with her, at least not far away rather than return to his father empty-handed. She could understand that; indeed, she sympathized. And eighteen months wasn’t such a long time that, between them, they couldn’t find ways to believably excuse a supposedly ongoing search for her.
Feeling decidedly more confident in her ability to manage the situation than she had when Rory had walked in, she glanced at Gregory—currently engaged in an exchange of memories with Rory concerning the hunting around Dalmellington and the Vale—just as the clock on the mantelpiece chimed. She glanced up and saw that the hands were signaling eleven o’clock. Her gaze lowered to the grate. The fire had almost burnt itself out.
She looked at Rory. “I’ll have Cromwell prepare a room.” She rose and tugged the bellpull that hung beside the mantelpiece.
Both men came to their feet.
Cromwell appeared almost instantly; he had to have been hovering nearby, although how he knew he’d been summoned at that moment, she couldn’t imagine. Cromwell half bowed. “Yes, miss?”
“Mr. Fergusson will be staying for at least a week. If you could prepare a suitable room for him?”
