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S heamus Buchanan, Marquess of Flemming, squinted up at the sunny day after exiting the House of Lords. He had done his duty to his best friend, Reese, by casting his vote in the earl’s favor.

“Ah, you look like you’re ready to quit London this very minute,” Reese said coming to stand next to him.

“Maybe not this minute, but soon enough.” He frowned.

“What keeps you then? Nuit Noire? You should sell the place,” Reese suggested.

“And if I did where would you spend your evenings?” Shay asked. It was not the first time Reese had shared his disapproval for Shay’s business. A business he hid from polite society.

“You know the risk. We may have lofty titles, but we’re still Scots, and they would love nothing more than to run us back to Scotland so we don’t have a say in what happens.”

“At the moment, I would love nothing more than to return to Scotland. I have managers that can run Noire for me while I’m away. But I told Percival I wouldn’t be returning home until the end of the Season.” The whelp had a thirst for the gaming tables that would never be quenched. Last Season, Shay had thought him just a poor player with a lust for winning—despite his skill not being up for the score. Shay was ashamed to admit he’d taken advantage of the man. But after he’d ended up with Stephen Rockledge in his castle for all but five months, and put his staff at risk, Shay had decided the man was too far gone. His need was a festering fever that would never go away.

The man wouldn’t ever be able to pay all that was owed. No matter how far north he went or how long he hid.

“Ah. Good thinking. The last time he chased after you to Cawdor, it seemed he never planned to leave.”

“I hear he owes Flint a large sum. I’m guessing he’s looking to hide out until it blows over. I still don’t know how he got out of it last time.”

Flint wasn’t the kind of man who forgot a farthing of debt. Which meant someone must have paid it off. But he didn’t know who, or why. Not that he cared enough to ask around.

“What are you planning to do?” Reese asked.

“I told him I wasn’t returning home. I didn’t say anything about visiting a friend not far from my estates.”

“Finn and Lily?” Reese guessed correctly.

Their friend had married a lovely woman and they’d had a son the previous January. They hadn’t bothered coming to London this Season. Apparently, there was nothing here that compared to spending time at home with his family.

Shay wouldn’t know about that. He didn’t have a family. He’d been living on the streets in Inverness until someone had tracked him down to pin the title on him. A great-uncle had fallen ill with no other heirs. Shay had gone from a starving lad of eleven summers to being the heir of the marquess in a day’s time.

“I am Uncle Shay, Willie’s favorite uncle, I might add.” Shay had never thought he was missing anything in not having a family. Not until Finn married and Shay was able to see the happiness practically beaming from the man whenever he’d spoken of his wife and son and the new babe on the way.

Shay began to wonder if having such a thing might fill the emptiness he never realized he had in his chest. But finding someone in London was beyond him. These debutantes were out to find a wealthy husband at any cost. They were not above treachery to secure their futures.

He blamed society rather than the lasses who employed such devious plots. For they were given but a short amount of time to find a proper match. Too many Seasons put them on the shelf and they were considered less desirable.

Shay thought he would prefer a woman of mature years as opposed to a lass who’d just left the school room. The few he’d spoken to, stared owlishly at him when he spoke.

Either he’d frightened them or they weren’t able to translate his rough Highland brogue. Either way, Shay thought returning at the end of the Season to meet what women were still left might be a better tactic.

“The lad is little more than a year old,” Reese argued. “He doesn’t know who the blazes you are from anyone else.”

“You insult the young earl’s intelligence. ’Tis no wonder I’m the favorite.”

Reese rolled his eyes, which was quite common when they were together.

“Safe travels. Tell everyone I send my best,” Reese said before adding, “And thank ye for your vote. It means a lot to me that you stayed.”

There was not much he would not do for Reese and Finn. When Shay had showed up at Heriot’s school in Edinburgh, a skinny lad, with the speech of the streets still thick on his tongue, he’d been a ripe target, but Finn and Reese stood at his back against the older boys and Shay would never be able to repay their kindness.

After a hearty hug and a slap on the back, Shay gave a nod and headed for his home across the park. He stopped and changed course when he spotted Percival and Billings moving quickly through the park as if looking for something— or someone—they’d lost. He could only hope whoever it was that had escaped them, would never be found.

*

Thea stepped down from the carriage, drawing in the fresh air of Scotland and breathing out all the stress she’d been carrying during the trip.

The dower house was exactly as she’d expected. Empty.

But it was also clean, roomy, and comfortable. It would be the perfect place to hide from her brother while she finished her latest book. She would need to find her way to the village to hire someone to cook and take care of the household things. Such as reminding Thea to eat.

She often forgot about all else when she was deep into her stories. Her brother never noticed. Shaking her head, she brushed off all thoughts of her brother. Her trip north had given her time to shed a few tears and come to terms with the man he’d become.

After her few bags were brought in, Thea paid the driver and watched as he rode off, leaving her there alone. She turned to take in the view from the front porch. The house sat on a small rise that looked out over the village and rolling green fields. Up on another hill sat a formidable castle, it’s light-colored stone glowing in the sun. Cawdor.

Huge mountains rose high in the distance, their peaks still white with snow despite it being late April. She thought she might want to include a trip to Scotland in her newest novel. It would be fun to add different scenery to her books.

She frowned thinking how sad it was that writing about something fun was the closest she ever got to actually having any fun. But things might be different now. Or soon enough.

If she had the money to buy a house it could become a home. Perhaps she would live in a small village like the one sitting below the cottage. She might make friends.

A twinge of guilt twisted in her chest at the thought of making a happy life while leaving her brother to fend for himself. She was still worried about her brother, despite all the reasons not to be. Instead of thinking about him, she did her best to keep her mind busy so she wouldn’t be distracted.

She was setting up her blank pages and ink on the desk by the window in the drawing room when someone knocked on the door. She froze for a few quick beats of her heart before she went and opened it.

A robust woman and a slender man stood on the porch looking more than a little surprised to see her.

“Good day,” Thea greeted them, wondering who they might be, and what lies she would need to tell them.

“Good day to you, my lady,” the woman said after a silent conversation between the two people. “We are…” She looked toward the man who took over the explanation.

“We are servants from the castle. We saw a carriage come through and thought to come see who had arrived. The marquess did not write to tell us we were to expect any guests.” The man spoke while his expectant gaze went past her shoulder to the empty room behind her.

“It is just one guest,” she answered, the question she thought he truly wanted to know which was if she were alone. “And I didn’t get a chance to tell the marquess I was coming before I left town. But…” she swallowed before telling the part that was a lie, “he had offered a standing invitation some time ago. I never had the chance to take him up on it though. I hope it is no trouble. I’m to understand he’s not returning until the end of the Season. I was just going to write to let him know I had arrived.” She was near to babbling and bit her bottom lip to stop it from moving.

“Very well,” the woman said, though she seemed uncomfortable.

“I’m Thea Rockledge,” she announced, thinking that knowing her name might help. “Has the marquess ever mentioned me?” Of course he hadn’t. She’d never met the gentleman and he’d likely never heard of her.

“We are John and Anna Murray. The butler and housekeeper of Cawdor,” he said with some pride. The thin man smiled at Thea while the woman was clearly not yet sold on her story. Thea continued on, hoping to convince her.

“It is a pleasure to meet you both. I only plan to stay a couple months, I’ll need to hire a maid of all work to see to things here. If you have anyone in the area you might recommend, I would be appreciative.”

The two shared another look before the woman spoke.

“And what brings you to Cawdor, Miss Rockledge?”

In this, Thea could tell the truth. She’d only been here a quarter of an hour, but she was already enamored with the beautiful views and clean air.

“I hope to purchase a home in the area.” Just as soon as she had enough funds after she sold the book she had yet to finish. Her future depended on her being able to finish her book. And to do that she needed peace and quiet.

“Hmm.” The woman pressed her lips together into a strained smile and bobbed a curtsy. “Then we welcome ye. We should be able to spare a maid to take care of your needs during your stay. I’ll send her down straight away to help ye unpack. Will you be joining us for supper in the castle this evening?”

“No. I won’t be a bother. I plan to stay here at the cottage during my visit.”

“Very well. Please let us know if you need anything else.”

“I will do that.” She would not. She was already a trespasser. She wouldn’t take advantage of these kind people.

It seemed she was not the only person who was lying though. For if Flemming told Stephen the house was empty and closed up, that had not been the truth. Could it be that Lord Flemming didn’t want her wastrel of a brother planting himself at his home? Thea couldn’t blame him one bit.

With the interruption over, Thea got back to work. She organized the pages she’d completed, reading through the last few so she might pick up where she’d left off weeks ago before she’d learned of her brother’s nefarious plans for her future.

Thea shook her head. She needed to focus. She couldn’t think of Stephen and what might have happened in London when he found her missing.

Had he been upset? Had he been angry? Perhaps he had yet to even notice. Whatever he was doing, it was no longer her concern. She would finish this book as quickly as possible and use the proceeds to buy herself a home. Somewhere she would be safe from ever having to answer to a man ever again.