The two men exchanged the briefest of glances, unnoticed by her uncle. What lay beneath that look? A shiver of unease scuttled down Tara’s spine.
Then Callum Ross said, ‘No. I have heard the name, but I am not acquainted with the gentleman.’
It was almost shocking to hear him speak again in his deep, gruff voice. Rain began to patter down in fat, cold droplets. Two young women rushing by for cover shrieked and giggled, and they distracted Bryce Cullan momentarily. They were pretty, in a rough, buxom way, and they waved and giggled into their hands as Bryce smiled at them. Callum Ross, however, kept his eyes on her.
‘Ah, it seems the heavens are about to bless us with more Scottish weather,’ said her uncle. ‘If you will excuse us, we must be on our way, for I have urgent business with my notary.’
Uncle Ralph took hold of Tara’s hand and dragged her away abruptly. When they were out of earshot, he said, ‘I am sure that is what passes for an eligible man in these parts, but the ladies in Truro would be appalled at such a prospect, would they not? I can scarcely believe that big brute is a Laird of anything. That a landowner should go about the town in such a state. Why, the man looked as though he had just come from a tavern brawl – dirty, rough fool. Fear not. We will have little to do with such ruffians once we are settled. There are plenty of English gentlemen at Fort George to provide civilised company.’
Tara glanced back, and there was Callum Ross, still staring at her with those intense eyes. She turned away and bit her lip, her face burning. He was an uncomfortable man to be around, and her uncle did not like him. She hoped they would not meet again.
Chapter Three
The rooms of Mr Penry Esquire, Notary, were set back from the main square of Inverness down a noisy, busy alley. A finely-etched sign squeaked back and forth, declaring his expertise.
‘Soon, we will have our affairs settled, my dear. And then we can indulge in a few luxuries,’ beamed Uncle Ralph.
His optimism was short-lived. They knocked on the door and were met by a slovenly man in a stained waistcoat with an unshaven countenance who declared himself as Mr Penry.
Once the introductions were concluded and they were seated, he excused his appearance. ‘Forgive me, but I have been a long while on the road, having just returned from business in Edinburgh. Hence I am in some disarray. But I did manage to stop by your holdings at Braecaple on the way.’
‘And how far is the estate exactly, for I am itching to visit as soon as may be?’ said Uncle Ralph.
The man frowned. ‘Ah, let me see. I would say about an hour on horseback at a steady gallop.’
‘So far?’ said Tara, eyes darting around the man’s rooms with dismay. They did not present any more orderly an appearance than Mr Penry himself. Dust motes swam in the thin sunlight streaming in the dirty windows, and the desk and shelves were piled high with disorderly paperwork, cobwebbed in some corners. Her heart sank. This was the man entrusted with the administration of Cousin Walter’s estate, yet his affairs seemed to be in a poor state. How could that be so?
‘Aye, Braecaple Manor is a quiet, out-of-the-way place, but you have neighbours close by,’ continued Mr Penry. ‘I am sure the lairds and holders of the larger farms will always be on hand for company and assistance should you require it in the…er…coming days.’ Mr Penry mopped away sweat on his brow with a kerchief and shifted through papers on his desk, balancing pince-nez on the tip of a bulbous red nose. Uncle had always maintained that a red nose was the mark of a drinker, and Tara’s misgivings deepened.
‘Now let’s get to business, Mr Penry, for I am eager to settle my affairs and come into possession of my estate,’ said Uncle Ralph.
‘Aye, your estate,’ stuttered the man, peering through thick lenses like a nervous owl. ‘On that subject, I must ask, did you have much contact with your late cousin prior to his…er… demise?’
‘Not really.’
‘My uncle and his cousin were somewhat estranged,’ offered Tara, earning herself a glare from her uncle.
‘Well, the good news is that his will was very clear. He left everything to you, Mr Hennaut.’
Ralph leant forward with a frown. ‘And the bad news?’
Mr Penry coughed. ‘Walter Hennaut did leave you his entire estate, but it is, unfortunately, heavily burdened by debt.’
‘Debt?’ snapped Ralph.
‘Aye, and a staggering amount, too. Walter was notoriously tight-fisted, and it was generally considered that he had a good deal of coin hidden somewhere, yet there was little money at the end, even to pay for his burial. His creditors, of which there are many, are now clamouring for settlement, so I fear that the manor house and most of the land must be sold off to meet their demands.’
Uncle Ralph grabbed the edge of the desk. ‘But that cannot be so.’
‘Any debts must be paid out of the estate, Mr Hennaut.’
‘To hell with the creditors. Why should I be responsible for their demands?’
‘Because it is what Scottish law demands, Sir. I am afraid your cousin left you not a prize but a burden. You have my commiserations for it is a vast sum that is owed.’ Mr Penry passed a ledger over to her uncle. ‘It has come to light that Walter Hennaut had rather a fondness for wagering.’
Ralph Hennaut scanned the pages with increasing desperation. ‘But we must have a roof over our heads. We cannot sell the house,’ he wailed.
Mr Penry brightened. ‘Ah, there, I have a solution of sorts. The livestock would have been left to starve on the estate after your cousin’s death, but I organised a sale and got a goodly amount of coin for the beasts. Here is a list of animals sold and a banker’s note for the monies received.’