Page 54 of An Enchanted Knight

“There are many duties to attend to; you cannot remain in this self-imposed confinement any longer.” Edith McRainey was a force to be reckoned with, confirmation that he’d made the right decision when leaving his estate in the hands of McRainey women through the decades.

He sat on the bed, without any motivation to do anything.

Standing before him now, the slight woman did not allow for excuses of any kind. “This is three days now you have remained holed up in this room. The estate will not run itself, you know. Decisions must be made regarding the renovations to the stables, reinforcing the fencing in the west pasture, and someone needs to check on the progress of the farmers who’ve been reluctant to follow my orders.”

The last statement he had a hard time believing; nonetheless, he allowed her to continue. “I understand you’ve been through a great deal, and face plenty of challenges ahead. However, time does not stand still. You don’t have the luxury of wallowing.”

Tristan frowned, “I’m sure everything is well in hand without any help from me. Somehow the estate managed, and verra well without me.”

“So everything was for naught?” Edith took his jaw and pulled his face up to look at her. “Clara died—bless the poor child’s soul. You deserve to mourn, believe me I understand. I have experienced the pain of losing a child. I lost a son.”

Tristan was shocked, not remembering ever seeing a boy about since Edith took residence. “Don’t be so shocked. I was in love once, and would have married my son’s father, if not for being so foolish when young.

“Now,” she said, placing her hands on her slim hips. “You have an estate to run, responsibilities to assume, and more importantly, your friends’ hopes of freedom are pinned on your shoulders. The staff is waiting downstairs to meet you. Come down at once.”

If not for the constant noise provided by what they called a telly in the corner of the room, Tristan knew he’d hear his heart thumping, the fast beats not unlike those of anger. Edith was right; he had duties to attend to.

He’d mourn in private, on his own time. Once standing, his gaze was drawn back to the moving pictures in the telly, a woman was speaking of world news. It was that new world that had his heart pounding harder, faster. Honestly, the thought of leaving the room terrified him.

Descending the stairs, Tristan was surprised to see there were only six staff members lined up. Two, both maids, he’d met before, as they’d brought him meals, the other four were men.

Beaming, Edith stepped up to him, putting her hand on this arm. “I’d like to formally introduce you to my son, Tristan McRainey, who will assume total control of the family estates and holdings, as of today.” Curious looks were directed at him, but none of the staff members seemed shocked that Edith had a son. Unlike them, Tristan was sure his expression gave away his surprise at her introduction.

Edith continued unabated, introducing him to both maids, Hannah and Liza, followed by three men, Ross, Cameron, and Duncan, whose duties included grounds keeping and stables, and Miles Sullivan, foreman of the estate. Sullivan, a large man, was the only one to step forward and shake his hand. “Laird, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” The older man nodded toward the other men. We look forward to working with you.”

“Please call me Tristan,” he replied. Ensuring to keep his face neutral, he shook each person’s hand, asking about their family and length of employment.

After the staff left the hallway, only Miles remained. The older man chuckled and shook his head. “I take it Ms. Edith didn’t tell you she planned to introduce you as her son.” He gave Edith a warm smile.

Edith sniffed in response, “I didn’t have a chance, I was too busy beating sense into the boy.”

“Why did you introduce me as your son?”

“In this, Derrick is correct. People have an easier time believing that I had a son out of wedlock who lived abroad with his father his entire life, than they would in believing you came back from a four-hundred-year enchantment.”

Miles nodded, drinking from his coffee cup. “Miss Edith here has been mentioning a son for years now, in preparation of your return.”

“Thank you,” Tristan told his new mother, who waved it away.

“Let’s do a tour of the estate, shall we?” she told them. “I’m anxious to retire to my flat in town. Finally, I can join my girlfriends for tea and shopping without having to worry about things at the estate taking all my time and attention.”

Gwen entered the room, her journal and pen in hand. She didn’t meet his eyes but smiled warmly at both Miles and Edith.

“I’m glad you’re joining us. We’re about to begin the tour of the estate lands and will definitely enjoy having your company,” Edith told Gwen, linking arms with her and leading her towards the front door. “We’ve so much to do and see—your notes will come in handy for Tristan.”

“Beautiful lady,” Miles told Tristan, walking beside him as they followed the women out. “If only I were about thirty years younger.” He chuckled at Tristan’s glare. “Of course, you don’t have that obstacle, do you?”

Tristan almost smiled. He liked the man.

Tristan assisted Gwen into a large golf cart. When his hand held her elbow, she visibly flinched at his touch. The distance between them didn’t settle well with him.

“Are you well?” he asked her, only to receive a curt nod in response. He climbed into the large golf cart, in front next to Miles, while the women settled into the back seat.

He was astounded at the many changes to the estate, but the lay of the land remained the same. He began to recognize landmarks Miles pointed out and found himself relaxing, releasing his death grip on the handlebar in front of him.

He now owned less land; just over a thousand acres surrounded the home and cottages. When they stopped atop a ridge that overlooked the estate and stables, Gwen seemed to soften, joining in asking questions, jotting down notes and even laughing as they watched two foals at play.

At the stables, he meandered, stopping at each stall, studying each horse. The beasts were of good stock. He was pleased with Miles’ choices. Edith went into a small room that Miles called an office, and he was left alone. Stroking a large black horse, he decided to ride him later.