Stone shrugged, staring at the papers in front of him. “I dunnae ken about that. I dunnae ken about any of this.” There was so much he needed to learn, to understand to do right by these people. His father hadn’t taught him nearly enough. Not that his father was to blame. The elder Lord Alban had been the picture of health. They had both assumed Stone, at five and twenty, had years to learn all he needed.
When Allister didn’t respond, Stone looked up at the man. Allister’s gaze cast to the ceiling. “I could stay for a time if ye’d like. Help ye with the transition.”
“I couldnae ask that of ye,” Stone replied but he had to admit it was a welcome thought. Someone who was intimately acquainted with the assets and earnings of his father’s, well of his, holdings would be a great asset.
“I’m offering, ye’re not asking.” Allister replied reaching across the desk and giving Stone’s arm a pat. “Besides, my house is too empty without Fiona. I do not relish going back.”
That was something that Stone could understand. “If yer sure I wouldnae be putting ye out then I would love to have ye stay. If, however at any point ye want to go, ye can.”
Allister shook his head. “It’s unlikely. Perhaps I’ll sell the house so that I might purchase a residence—”
“Dunnae do that.” Stone replied. “I’ve a beautiful cottage by the water, right here on the property. Ye could stay in yer own quarters. Or, if ye prefer, I have several properties in the village.” He understood Allister’s feelings having just suffered his own loss. But once Allister sold the house, it would be difficult to undo. This didn’t seem the time to make rash decisions. Advice he would note for himself. “Give it time before you let go of the house. Ye dunnae want to do something ye’ll regret.”
“Thank you, Stone,” Allister said. “Now I will have to face Eliza with the news that we are staying.”
Stone mentally cringed. Of course Allister staying meant Eliza would stay. While that fact shouldn’t bother him, it did. “She won’t be happy?”
Allister gave a shake of his head. “Strong-willed and high-minded like her mother.” A sadness pulled at the corners of Allister’s mouth. “I miss her.”
“I ken.” Stone did. And he had no idea how to ease this ache.
Chapter Three
Eliza sat in the breakfast room, as was her usual custom, early the next morning. At least she thought it was the breakfast room. No one was there, no food was about, and no servants had entered. Looking around, she could only surmise she’d made a mistake. Though the large table h
ad beckoned her in, there must be another breakfast room somewhere else in the massive house.
She sighed. She wanted to go back home and continue grieving her own mother. Not stay here and watch the Sinclairs experience their own loss. Not that her father cared what she wanted. He was a good man, but he rarely listened to her opinions on a subject. This trip for example. She’d wanted to stay home.
Standing, she decided to explore further when a shadow filled the doorway. The room had been so quiet, she was almost surprised to see someone and she jumped, her heart dropping to her knees. It wasn’t until she’d taken a few breaths that she realized it was Lord Alban.
“Good morning.”
His deep gravelly voice reverberated through her. The man was a force, she had to admit that. “Good morning,” she replied.
He cast his gaze about the room, as though he rarely spent time there and he was assessing its merits. “I can have breakfast sent to up here for you if you would prefer, but it’s actually my family’s custom to eat in the kitchen.”
She blinked several times. “The kitchen?” She wasn’t attempting to judge, she’d just never heard of such a thing.
His brow furrowed and his look grew menacing. He straightened his back and his chest pushed out. He was already an intimidating man. Like this, he looked near ferocious. “That is what I said.”
She titled her head to the side, studying him. She imagined many were afraid of him. Was she? The answer was decidedly no. She didn’t understand why not, by all accounts she should be. Most people were. He made her feel something that unsettled her but it wasn’t fear. “I did not mean to offend. It is just unusual for a family of your status.”
She saw him take a breath and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “Delia enjoys helping out in the kitchen. My parents indulged the practice as I intend to.”
Delia. Perhaps that was why he didn’t frighten her. She saw how loving Stone was with his sister. “That is wonderful.” She gave him a genuine smile. “But I wouldn’t want to interrupt that. Especially not today.”
Surprise made his eyes widen. “Thank ye for yer understanding.”
The smile slipped from her face. She understood loss all too well. “Of course.”
He cleared his throat. “I am sorry fer yer loss as well.”
“That is much appreciated,” she said but she couldn’t look at him when she did. The bitter ache that was always near the surface stabbed at her again.
“I will have breakfast sent up for you,” he answered and then he was gone.
She took a steadying breath as she looked toward the door again. She’d been wrong. Stone did frighten her. Not because of his menacing looks or his hulking size but because of what he represented. Power. Influence. So often men in his position did terrible things with that sort of authority—selfish or even terrible acts. Judging by what the surrounding villagers had said about Stone, he was that sort of man. With a sigh, she returned to her seat. He was the same sort of man who had sent her mother to the grave.