‘Duncan, don’t answer that one either. This is all way off the beaten track. We’re simply here to remind your client,’ he said to Lucy, ‘that as an illegitimate son of the previous Laird of Glencarraig, his claim to the title is tenuous at best.’
‘I don’t agree,’ Lucy countered. ‘He was named in the will and there are no caveats on the property or title stating the inheritor has to be legitimate.’
‘Because nobody ever thought that an illegitimate heir would inherit.’ Sinclair leaned back on his chair. ‘If their father had left the land and title to a goat, we would contest that too, even though there’s no caveat covering that either.’
Lachlan sat straighter in his chair. He wanted to remind them that he was actually a living, breathing person and not a goddamned goat. But Lucy reached for his hand beneath the table, and patted it, making sure neither Duncan nor Sinclair saw her movement. Lachlan didn’t need to be an expert in body language to know she was telling him to keep quiet. He clasped his hands together, moving them away, making sure to keep his mouth shut.
‘If that’s your only argument, I think this might be the shortest case the session court has ever seen,’ she replied, her voice light.
‘When was the last time you visited the damned place?’ Duncan asked Lachlan. ‘It’s not as if you’ve got a link to it either.’
‘I’m going tomorrow.’ Lachlan smiled at his brother’s anger. ‘It’s the first time I’ve been allowed to visit since I was a child. I’m looking forward to learning more about my heritage. The history of our family is fascinating, don’t you think?’
Duncan stared at him, saying nothing.
‘As you can see, my client feels a very great connection to Glencarraig,’ Lucy said to Sinclair. ‘It’s not about the money for him, it’s about the history, the tradition, the beauty of the land.’
Sinclair let out an inadvertent sigh. ‘Let’s cut to the issue, shall we? My client is very interested in making an offer of a settlement, in order to avoid court proceedings. He’d prefer not to put the family name through a long and drawn-out trial.’
‘Then don’t do it.’ Lachlan said the words without thinking. And almost immediately Lucy’s hand went under the table again, but this time his own hand wasn’t there. Instead, her palm landed on his thigh, the warmth of her skin apparent through the thin barrier of his suit pants. He felt her jump in her seat next to him, pulling her hand away as fast as she could, her eyes widening as she realised what she’d touched. He had to bite on his bottom lip to stop from laughing at her horrified reaction.
‘What’s it going to take to pay you off?’ Duncan asked. ‘We both know you don’t want the place.’
Lucy paused a moment longer, as though collecting herself, before she finally addressed Sinclair. ‘Mr MacLeish isn’t willing to settle. And as far as we’re concerned any claim lodged in court will be seen as frivolous. I think we all know we’ll win, and on top of that we’ll counterclaim for costs.’ She looked over at Sinclair, whose face remained impassive. ‘This could be an expensive mistake for your client.’
‘So there’s nothing we can do to persuade you to compromise?’ Sinclair asked them.
‘Nothing at all.’
On the screen, Duncan was shaking his head.
‘Then this meeting has come to an end,’ Sinclair said, glancing back up at his client. ‘We have no choice but to file a claim against you.’
‘There’s always a choice,’ Lucy pointed out. ‘You could drop the whole idea completely.’
Slowly, Sinclair shook his head. ‘This is about more than just an inheritance. This is about family and my client’s right to be seen as the Laird of Glencarraig. I’m certain we can persuade the court of the veracity of his claim, against a man who isn’t even entitled to bear the MacLeish name.’
‘Then we’ll see you in court.’
‘I think that went rather well.’ As soon as they made it out of the office building and down the steps, Lucy allowed a smile to break out on her face. ‘They were on the back foot from the start.’
‘You were cool as a cucumber in there.’ Once they reached the bottom of the steps he stopped and looked at her. ‘Thank you.’ He didn’t mention her touching his thigh by accident, and for that she was grateful. After yesterday’s faux pas, she really didn’t need to be embarrassed any further.
She shrugged. ‘It was a pleasure. You wanted to take the fight to them and it worked. Now you need to go up to the Highlands and stake your claim. Make sure you meet all the locals and tell them how delighted you are to be laird.’
A car pulled up at the edge of the pavement, and Lachlan waved at the driver but didn’t make a move. ‘I’d like you to come with me,’ he said, turning to look at her. ‘You know this country and the people. I need your advice while I’m there.’
Her own taxi pulled up behind his car. She nodded at it, and the driver waved back.
‘You do?’ Her mouth felt suddenly dry. ‘Are you sure?’
Of course it made sense for her to go up to Glencarraig with him. She’d be able to talk to the staff, to find out more about the estate, and make sure the interview he’d arranged with a journalist went according to plan.
But the thought of spending two days with this man in the middle of nowhere scared her to death. She’d already stumbled twice, who knew how many lives she had left?
‘Yes I’m sure.’ He nodded, still looking straight at her. ‘I don’t want to come across as an idiot. This visit is important to me, and I’ll need your help.’
The smile he gave her was thoroughly disarming. Enough for her to mentally check through her diary, and to think about how much petrol she had left in her car. Enough for her to think about her overnight bag, and how she’d already re-packed it after her trip to Miami.