The Duke's Scottish Lass (Brethren of Stone 0.50)

Both Allister and his daughter followed his siblings to the buffet of food. As the whisky blazed a trail to his stomach, he couldn’t help but note that his new guest was lovely. Granted she was no better than any of those other letches who had tittered behind their hands at his parent’s funeral but she was stunning.

He needed solitude. Perhaps a good ride along the sea path, or a swim in the loche. It was still early in the year, but the cold water might shock him back to normalcy. He didn’t involve himself with pretty chits who gave him disapproving glares. His mind was surely muddled.

He tossed himself into a chair and covered his face with his arm. With Allister here, perhaps the other man could help him with some of the duties so that he might take some time and grieve, perhaps learn what his new place in this world was.

But for now, he needed some solitude. “Allister, thank ye again for comin’. We can talk more tomorrow, but if ye’ll excuse me.” He didn’t bother with an explanation. He assumed it was understood. He simply rose and left.

* * *

Eliza watched him go and tried to refrain from huffing again. Her father wouldn’t approve. The man didn’t seem to have a soft bone in his body. I guess Stone Alban was truly a fitting name. You would think he would have stayed to entertain his guests.

She had near crossed the country, despite being in mourning, to attend him. She supposed, she hadn’t been required to come. But with her mother gone, she couldn’t see herself staying in that house. Her mother had passed a month ago and it still didn’t feel the same as it had before. It used to be her home.

Much had changed in the past month. She’d changed. She knew things about the world she wished she didn’t, how unjust it could be, how unfair.

And she knew what it meant to be without her mother. It still took her breath away and that grief made her darker than she’d been before.

She nibbled at the food on her plate but her legs were restless after hours in the carriage. Finally, she turned to her father. “Is it all right if I take a walk?” Even from this room, she could see hints of the river the house was built upon.

“Of course,” her father nodded. “Please stay within sight of the house.”

She stepped outside and the salty air hit her nostrils once again. The house sat perched at the mouth of a river that led to the sea. Lord Alban had been blessed in more ways than one, she noted. Rich fertile land, was both good for farming and yielded coal. The sea surely provided ample food as well. No wonder the Alban’s were so successful.

She followed a path to the water and, at the edge of the cliff, looked down at the view of the water. It was breathtaking. But a movement to her left caught her attention. The land continued to rise and on top of a crest stood a Kirkyard. Even from this distance, she recognized the outline of Lord Alban standing by a large stone. He looked like a stone himself, rising out of the earth.

Without meaning to, she found herself walking toward him.

As she grew closer, she could see his head bowed, his hands clasped in front of him. She had a sudden pang of regret about the way she’d judged his behavior today. He’d buried his parents today. That entitled anyone to be brisk.

Not that it changed the rumors swirling about him. But all the same, today, at least, he deserved some measure of sympathy.

As she drew closer, he didn’t raise his head but his voice called sharply. “What do ye want?”

She drew in a long breath. Had she just been feeling sympathy for this man? “I came to offer my condolences.”

He looked up to her then, his gaze penetrating into hers until she did, in fact, cease moving toward him. “Thank ye. If ye don’t mind, I’d prefer to be alone.”

She gave a curt shake of her head and turned to go. But then, she moved back to face him. “I’ll only keep ye a moment. But the day I buried my mother, I didn’t speak for the entire day, I can’t quite recollect, but I don’t think I spoke for several after.” She cleared her throat, these next words a little difficult. “I admire your strength.”

Surprise lit his face, making it less heavy, handsome even. “Thank ye.”

With a parting nod, she returned the way she had come.

Stone watched Miss McLaren walk away, his teeth clenching together. Mostly because he didn’t want to like that woman. He’d seen the way she’d looked at him. Those looks had haunted his dreams as a child and, now that he was a man, he wouldn’t be prisoner to them any longer. Stone froze out any one who treated him with disdain.

He’d do well to remember the judgement he’d seen in her eyes when they’d first met his. She was beautiful, it couldn’t be denied, and her attempt at kindness might lull him into letting his guard down.

He looked back at the stone marking his parent’s resting place. How could this have happened? Technically speaking, he knew what had happened. The collapse had begun in one of the mines. Men were trapped and his father had rushed to the mines to help clear the opening. His mother had been awaiting his father when a second collapse had begun. She’d rushed in to save him or warn him. They’d never know.

Stone swallowed down the lump rising in his throat. He was the keeper of the land, the one everyone was depending on. He wouldn’t cry now or ever.

Turning away, he began back down the hill. Losing both his parents meant that he had no one to guide him now. Standing here wallowing wouldn’t help. It was best that he begin work.

He spent most of the afternoon with Allister, going through books and reviewing projects his father had commissioned. Stone’s head ached by the time dinner approached. He only now realized that he hadn’t eaten any of the buffet that had been laid out.

Placing his head in his hands he took a deep breath.