Page 40 of This Laird of Mine

“Safe from what?” Jules asked.

Fin shrugged. “I was close tae the man, but not privy tae all his doin’s.”

“What about Father’s behavior about six weeks ago? Was he doing anything unusual?” Jules continued.

“Not six weeks, but about a month ago. That’s when he started goin’ to Edinburgh. The first time he left in a hellfire hurry after receivin’ a note.”

“Grayson sent Father a note?” Jules asked.

Fin nodded. “Yer father was furious about somethin’. He sold off the last of the furnishings, and he and yer brother had a few heated fights.”

“About what?”

“I’ve been not listenin’ tae conversations around here fer so long, I couldna tell ye. But it was after the last argument that yer brother started drinkin’. Yer father’s heart gave out a week later. Yer brother died two days after that.”

As Jules listened, he tried to pull a timeline of the events together in his mind. His own discussions with Grayson had started five weeks ago. A week later, Grayson had involved Jules’s father without his knowledge. A week after that his father was dead, and the following week Claire and he were married.

Jules released a ragged sigh. He may never know the truth about what had happened or why, but he could not let that stop him from what he had to do as the current laird. “Thank you, Fin, for your honesty, and for your service as well.” Jules reached inside his coat to withdraw a small bag of gold coins, approximately one-third of what he had received from selling his mother’s ring. He set the bag on the desk before Fin. “I am certain the estate owes you far more than this in back wages, but consider this a start toward your compensation.”

Fin’s tired gray eyes widened. “Where did ye get the funds?”

“I sold my mother’s ring.” He turned and picked up the box he had leaned against the wall. “This is for you as well.”

“I had my suspicions that yer father went back into yer mother’s grave fer it nae too long ago.” His voice sounded pained.

Jules frowned as yet another piece to the puzzle his father had left behind was revealed. “Why would he violate Mother’s grave to get the ring back?”

“He must have wanted ye tae have it somethin’ fierce tae do so,” Fin replied.

Jules stared at his steward a moment, trying to make sense of why his father had given Claire something so important as the ring. Then after a moment, Jules forced his thoughts aside. He could mull things over later after he did right by Fin. Jules held the box out toward Fin, encouraging him to take it.

Fin stared suspiciously at the box, which was tied with a string. “What is it?”

Jules laughed. “Open it and find out.”

His lips pressed together in concentration, Fin pulled the string free, then lifted the lid to reveal a new gray suit, shirt, and shoes. Startled gray eyes searched Jules’s. “Milord? New clothes?”

“Yes, Fin. And when you change into them, promise me you will burn the others.”

“Thank ye, milord.” The steward smiled. “Thank ye, fer comin’ back here and fer facin’ what yer father and yer brother could not.”

A flicker of unease moved through Jules once more at the reminder, but he forced the thought away. He didn’t want to worry about that now. For the first time in years he felt eager and hopeful. He had every intention of enjoying the sensations while they lasted.

On that thought, he left the study and Fin in search of Nicholas. Another third of the funds he had received would go to his friend as partial payment for all he had spent on Jules’s behalf. The last third would go to that rapscallion from the village, Arthur Cabot, so that the young man would stop following Jules around.

Jules had been given a second chance at life, and he would find a way to pay for all his debts, including settling the one debt that annoyed him the most—the debt he owed to the mysterious person who had released him from gaol.

He did not want to be indebted to anyone ever again.

The last rays of the setting sun broke through the gathering clouds and came through the windows of the ballroom, bathing the room in golden light. It was as if the sunlight had battled the storm that was building outside to glory in the celebration.

The sweet melody of harpsichord, violin, and flute wove through the crowded ballroom. Jules’s gaze moved over the chamber. Never in his life had this many people been at Kildare Manor at one time, especially in this room.

He used to hate this room. Yet now, thanks to his friends, and especially Claire and her talent with a paintbrush, the chamber had been transformed from a place of horrific memories to a place where hope existed. It was more than just fresh paint and a cleaned floor that had transformed this room and his life as of late. It was Claire.

Jules swallowed to ease the tightness from his throat. It was Claire, not Jane, who filled his thoughts. Not two weeks ago he had cursed God for the terrible unfairness of his life for having taken Jane and everything else that had ever mattered away from him. Yet now, he could see the bigger picture, the divine plan that He had put into place. God was always fair and just and good, in his own time.

Jules smiled at the thought that that time was now. He turned toward the doorway of the ballroom as a stillness came over the room. “My God,” Jules breathed as Claire appeared in the doorway.