Claimed by the Laird by Nicola Cornick Read Free Book Online Page A

that it tended to rub away leaving something ugly beneath.
    Galloway shifted in his chair. It seemed that he had heard enough to be satisfied with Lucas’s credentials and was moving on to give him some background on the establishment at Kilmory. Lucas listened attentively.
    “We are a small establishment here despite being a ducal household,” Galloway was saying. “Over the past few years His Grace has preferred to make his home here rather than at his main seat in Forres. It is smaller and also—”
    “Cozier,” Mrs. Parmenter intervened, shooting the butler a quick glance. “Kilmory is more...comfortable.”
    Lucas hoped he did not look as incredulous as he felt. If Kilmory was more comfortable than Forres then Forres must be practically uninhabitable. From what he had seen, half of Kilmory Castle was a ruin and the other half was medieval; a squat, ugly edifice that felt as though it had barely changed for centuries. Scotland had many beautiful castles. This was not one of them. Jack had been right about that.
    What Jack had not known, though, was how much of a home Kilmory seemed to be. It had a welcoming warmth about it that was more important than superficial elegance. The room in which they were sitting, for example, probably the second-best drawing room, had charm in the slightly rickety chairs with their faded cushions. There was a vase of flowers bright on the mantel and several magazines and papers tossed carelessly on the table. Lucas read them upside down—the Caledonian Mercury from three weeks before, the Lady’s Monthly Museum, the Edinburgh Review.
    He wondered if it was in fact financial considerations that had led the duke to close Forres Castle. Kilmory would be cheaper to run. But that would be at odds with the reputation of the Duke of Forres as the richest peer in Scotland. Even so, it was worth investigation. A man would often pretend to riches when he lacked them, and it would be useful to know the truth of Forres’s financial affairs in case he, too, were involved in the whisky trade.
    “It is Lady Christina MacMorlan who runs the estate on behalf of her father,” Mrs. Parmenter said. “In practical terms, she is the head of the household.”
    Lady Christina.
    Lucas felt a flicker of elemental awareness along his skin. Christina MacMorlan. Was she the woman he had met the previous night? It was becoming increasingly likely. A woman who was capable of running an estate would have all the skill, efficiency and contacts to operate a whisky-smuggling ring. And if Mrs. Parmenter was right, then Lady Christina might not only run Kilmory but she might also have knowledge of what had happened to Peter. Lucas felt his pulse speed up and schooled his expression to polite indifference.
    “It is the land agent who runs the estate,” Galloway corrected. “It would not be appropriate for her ladyship to work. ”
    Mrs. Parmenter gave a snort, quickly smothered. It was quite clear whom she thought did all the hard work at Kilmory. Lucas’s interest in Christina MacMorlan sharpened.
    “Speaking of work,” Galloway added, with a repressive glance at the housekeeper, “we would require you to turn your hand to almost any task were you to come to work at Kilmory, Mr. Ross. Some footmen have ideas of what is beneath their station.” His tone made it clear that such militant modern views were quite distasteful to him. “We are too small a staff here to tolerate such vanity.”
    “I would be happy to help with any task, Mr. Galloway,” Lucas said.
    Galloway nodded. He studied the papers lying on the table in front of him, frowning as though something was troubling him. Lucas was puzzled, but he couldn’t work out what was holding Galloway back.
    “Your testimonials are impeccable.” The butler said slowly. “You are entirely suitable for the post.”
    Lucas inclined his head. Sidmouth’s clerks had indeed done a good job in concocting a set of references that were strong and convincing