Page 68 of A Rogue in Firelight

His friend laughed again. “They must be scrambling to hide the truth about you.”

“My incarceration did pose a dilemma.”

“Do they know about your connection to Darrach?”

“Not entirely. They decided to elevate me to the viscountcy on the chance. An odd coincidence, that.”

“You must be joking.” Hugh’s grin faded. “Very well. I do not want to know the details. Not good for either of us. But I will write to Sir Evan on your behalf.”

“I doubt it will do much good. He has been angry with me for years.”

“It would be helpful to have his answer and be done with it.” Hugh tapped a finger on the desk, his brow furrowed. “Well. Aught else I can do, Ronan?”

“This.” Ronan reached into a pocket to bring out a note he had written late one night after poring over volumes of law in the Strathniven collection. “I suspect they were so eager to grab the Whisky Rogues that they may have overlooked some details.”

Hugh studied the page. “This is accurate? The first of May? Interesting.” He returned it to its envelope.

“Another matter, if you will. Do you know much about the will left by Colin Leslie? I believe it was made in your Edinburgh office. He died less than two years ago in Edinburgh. A poet, I think.”

“Sir Arnold Leslie’s lad? Aye. Not my client, but I know something of it. Tragic, that. Drunken fall from a horse. Young lad, I believe.”

“Aye.”

“He left a young widow.”

“The deputy lord provost’s daughter, aye. She inherited Leslie’s house on North Castle Street, but she cannot gain access to it. Some of Leslie’s relatives are protesting the will and have taken up residence there.”

“That cannot be allowed if the dispute is unresolved. I will send word to Smithson to look into it. He might be aware of the situation. If they refuse to vacate, I will go there myself and toss them out.”

“Leave it to me. You do not need to be arrested for disturbing the peace.”

“Just get them evicted. If the place needs cleaning and repair, I will pay for the work. You have access to my account per our agreement before I, er, became a tenant of Edinburgh Castle.” Hugh quirked a brow and Ronan nodded. “It is a favor for a friend.”

“Quite a favor. Quite a friend, is she?”

“I owe the young lady a debt of kindness.”

“Write out a draught, then, if you will.” Cameron opened another drawer and drew out a leather wallet of bank drafts, which he slid across the desk surface.

Writing out a generous amount, Ronan handed it back. Hugh nodded. “It will be done. When you return to Edinburgh, where will you stay?”

“The hotel on Princes Street. My usual place.”

“You had best inquire. Every available hole is filling fast with the crowds expected. I will stay with my mother in the Canongate during the royal visit. You are welcome there. She has always been fond of you.”

“Thank you. How is your mother?”

“Very well, but the royal visit has her at sixes and sevens. She is no fan of the Crown, being raised by staunch Jacobites, but she is insatiably curious. I will escort her to some of the events. You know she would be delighted to see you.”

“Good. I will let you know my arrangements.” He stood, and so did Hugh.

“Take care, Ronan. If the king learns the truth about the Glenbrae distiller, it could go poorly for you. Your young lady’s father may regret his decision to release you.”

“She is not my young lady,” he said, earning a keen glance from Cameron. “And I know the risks.”

*

“Here we are,”the seamstress said, carrying a gown of wine-colored satin draped over her arm. A shop girl followed with a second gown in deep blue silk. They laid the dresses out on a sofa, and the girl withdrew. The seamstress, Mrs. Fowler, smiled at Ellison and Sophia. “Lady Strathniven ordered the blue for you, Miss Graham.”