‘This is cool.’ Jodie beamed, forgetting her dislike of Marcia as imagination took flight. ‘The letter says they’re not sure whether they have the right person, but it does fit. It says your father was one of three brothers who left Scotland in 1947. The oldest two went to Australia and your dad came here.’
‘He can read it for himself,’ Marcia snapped and handed it over to Hamish.
‘It’ll be a scam.’
‘Read it,’ Marcia snapped.
And Jodie thought, Whoa, don’t do that, lady. If Hamish was my guy I wouldn’t talk like that.
But Hamish didn’t notice. ‘It’s probably nothing,’ he said at last, but dismissal had made way for uncertainty. ‘But with the Loganaich connection… Maybe we should check.’
‘I’ll make enquiries about this law firm,’ Marcia said. ‘I’ll get onto it straight away.’
‘There’s no need…’
‘There certainly is,’ Jodie breathed. ‘Oh, Mr Douglas, the letter says you’re an earl and you’ve inherited a castle and everything. How ace would that be? A Scottish earl. You might get to wear a kilt.’
‘No one’s seeing my knees,’ Hamish said. He grinned-and then the phone rang and a fax came through that he’d been waiting for and he went back to work.
Castles and titles had to wait.
‘They think they’ve found him.’
Susie Douglas, née McMahon, was sitting on a rug before the fire in the great hall of Loganaich-Castle-the-Second, playing with her baby. Rose Douglas was fourteen months old. She’d been tumbling with her aunt’s dog, Boris, but now baby and dog had settled into a sleepy, snuggly pile, and the women were free to talk.
‘The lawyers have been scouring America,’ Susie told her twin. ‘Now they think they’ve found the new earl. As soon as he comes, I…I think I’ll go home.’
‘But you can’t.’ Kirsty stared at her twin with horror. ‘This is your home.’
‘It’s been great,’ Susie said, staring round the fantastically decorated walls with affection. The two suits of armour guarding the hallway were wonderful all by themselves. She talked to them all the time. Good morning, Eric. Good morning, Ernst. ‘But I can’t live here for ever. It doesn’t belong to me. I agreed to stay until Angus died, and now he has.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve been marking time for too long, Kirsty, love. Eric and Ernst belong to someone else. It’s time I moved on.’
‘You mustn’t.’ Yet there was a part of Kirsty that knew Susie was right. This moment had been inevitable.
Susie had come so far… After the death of her husband, Rory, Susie had fallen apart, suffering from crippling depression as well as the injuries she’d received in the crash that had killed her husband. In desperation Kirsty had brought her to Australia to meet Rory’s uncle. Lord Angus Douglas, Earl of Loganaich. It had been a grand title for a wonderful old man. In the earl they’d found a true friend, and in his outlandish castle Susie had recovered. She’d given birth to her daughter and she’d started to look forward again.
To home?
Susie’s home was in America. Her landscaping business was in America. Now Angus was dead there was nothing keeping her here.
But while Susie had been recovering. Kirsty, her twin, had been falling in love with the local doctor. Kirsty and Jake now had a rambling house on the edge of town, kids, hens, dog-the whole domestic catastrophe. Kirsty’s home was solidly here.
‘I don’t want you to go,’ Kirsty whispered. ‘Angus should have left this place to you.’
‘He couldn’t.’
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘This castle was built with entailed money,’ Susie explained. ‘After the original Scottish castle burned down, the family trust made money available for rebuilding. Angus managed to arrange it so he rebuilt the castle here in Australia, but he still couldn’t leave it away from the true line of the peerage. If I’d had a son it’d be different, but now it goes to a nephew no one knows. It belongs to a Hamish Douglas. An American.’
She said ‘an American’ in a tone of such disgust that Kirsty burst out laughing. ‘You sound as if Americans are some sort of experimental bug,’ she said. ‘Just remember you are one, Susie Douglas.’
‘I hardly feel American any more,’ Susie said, sighing. Rose rolled sleepily off Boris, and Susie scooped her baby daughter up to hug her. ‘I have my own little Australian.’
‘Half American, half Scottish, born in Australia. But she belongs here.’
‘You see, I’m not sure any more,’ Susie said, sighing again. ‘Angus has left me enough to buy a little house and live happily ever after here. But I need to work and there’s not a lot of landscape gardening to be had in Dolphin Bay.’
‘There’s me,’ Kirsty said defensively, and Susie smiled.
‘You know that counts for a lot. But not everything. I need a job, Kirsty. Rory’s been dead for almost two years. My injuries from the crash are almost completely resolved. I loved caring for Angus, but without him the castle seems empty. The only thing keeping me occupied is the upkeep on the castle and the garden, and once the new earl arrives…’
‘When is he arriving?’
‘I don’t know,’ Susie told her. ‘But the lawyers say they’ve found him and told him he’s inherited. If you were told you’d inherited a title and a fortune, wouldn’t you hotfoot it over here?’
Kirsty gave a bleak little smile at that. So much sorrow had gone into this fortune, this title…
‘I guess I would,’ she admitted.
‘Once he arrives there’s nothing for me to do,’ Susie told her, twirling the curls of her almost sleeping daughter.
‘Maybe he won’t come,’ Kirsty said, trying not to sound desperate. She wanted her sister to stay so much. ‘Or maybe he’ll want you to stay as caretaker.’
‘And leave it earning nothing? What would you do if you inherited this place?’ Susie asked.
‘Sell it as a hotel,’ Kirsty said bluntly, and though she added a grimace it was no less than the truth. Angus had built this place when his castle back in Scotland had burned to the ground. The old man’s whim had led him to rebuild here, in this magic place where the climate was so much kinder than Scotland’s. But now…the castle seemed straight out of a fairy tale. It was far too big for a family. Angus had known it could be sold as a hotel, and his intention was surely about to be realised.
‘It feels like a home,’ Kirsty added stubbornly, and Susie laughed.
‘Right. Fourteen bedrooms, six bathrooms, a banquet hall, a ballroom and me and Rose. Even if you and Jake and the kids and Boris came to live with us, we’d have three bedrooms apiece. It’s crazy to think of staying.’
‘But you can’t go back,’ Kirsty said again, and her twin’s face grew solemn.
‘I think I must.’
‘At least stay and meet the new earl. Maybe he’ll have some ideas rather than selling. Maybe he could employ you to make the garden better.’
‘We both know that’s a pipe dream.’
‘But you will stay until he gets here. That’s what Angus would have wanted.’
‘I miss Angus so much,’ Susie said softly, and her twin moved across to give her a swift hug.
‘Oh, love. Of course you do.’
‘The new laird might not even grow pumpkins,’ Susie said sadly, and Kirsty had to smile.
‘Unforgivable sin!’
‘We’ve got the biggest this year,’ Susie said, brightening. ‘Did I tell you, the night before Angus died I snuck into Ben Boyce’s yard and measured his. It’s a tiddler in comparison. Angus died knowing he would definitely win this year’s trophy.’