A Scot to the Heart (Desperately Seeking Duke #2) - Caroline Linden Page 0,2
a black silk gown that surely cost more than a captain made in a year, and on her finger glittered a ruby the size of an acorn.
On guard, he took a seat. Another fellow, already seated, cast him an assessing glance. Handsome, lithe, elegantly posed in his chair. But his velvet coat was worn at the elbows and cuffs, and there was something calculating in his eyes. Drew gave a curt nod of greeting, and the fellow returned it with a languid smile.
“Good morning,” said the duchess briskly. “I trust your journeys were without incident.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” he said.
“It was perfectly delightful,” said the other fellow, managing to convey the exact opposite meaning. Drew wondered who he was.
“Excellent,” said the duchess, eyeing him coolly. “No doubt you wonder why I summoned you to Carlyle. Mr. Edwards will explain.”
He had barely noticed the man, clad as he was in black and sitting behind Her Grace. Edwards was the solicitor who’d written to him and got him special leave from the army.
“On the fourteenth of April last,” the solicitor said, “Lord Stephen St. James, youngest brother of His Grace the Duke of Carlyle, fell ill and died.”
“I offer my deepest sympathies, madam,” Drew murmured.
“Thank you, Captain,” said the duchess. “That is very kind of you.”
“Unfortunately, Lord Stephen was His Grace’s nearest living heir,” Mr. Edwards went on. “Carlyle himself has no children or wife.”
He had spent so much time thinking about legacies and who might leave him something. It was literally the only reason he could find to explain why he had been summoned to Carlyle Castle with all possible speed from Inverness.
His great-grandfather had been the third Duke of Carlyle. His grandfather, a younger son, had fallen out with his brother, the fourth duke, and been banished from the family estates. Drew’s father had always said that was more blessing than curse, and no one had ever attempted mending the breach. It was as if their family had come into being with his grandfather—appropriately named Lord Adam—and no previous generations existed.
But they had. And Drew, like his father before him, was an only son. Like a thunderclap from above, he realized why he was here.
He glanced swiftly at the roguish fellow beside him, wondering how closely related they were. That must be another St. James cousin. He knew virtually nothing of the family beyond his grandparents.
“Lord Stephen has also left no wife or children,” announced the duchess. The sunlight winked on her ruby ring. “In their absence, it appears the dukedom will pass upon my son’s death to one of his cousins.” She gave both of them pointed looks. “In short, to one of you.”
By God, it was a legacy beyond his dreams. “That is most unexpected news, Your Grace,” he said, trying hard to keep calm. “May I inquire how . . . ?”
“Certainly. Mr. St. James”—she flicked a glance at the other fellow—“is the great-great-grandson of the second duke. And you, Captain, are the great-grandson of the third duke.”
Drew forced down the urge to shout aloud. Hold fast, he told himself. “This is quite shocking news, ma’am. But is there no one—?”
The solicitor drew breath, but before he could speak, the duchess did. “No,” she said shortly, glaring at the lawyer. “There is no one nearer.”
No one nearer. And the fellow beside him had a lower claim than his own, if his hasty mental logic was true.
Mr. Edwards was speaking again. “As you may not know, His Grace the duke suffered a tragic injury many years ago.” Drew had not known that, but if the duke were a hale and hearty fellow he would surely find a bride and commence trying to sire an heir, rather than drag in distant and heretofore unwanted cousins from the outermost reaches of Scotland. “It has rendered him unable to take a wife and father direct heirs, which means there is no chance either of you will be supplanted in the chain of succession.” Mr. Edwards laid out a large sheet of paper. “I have taken the liberty of documenting the family here, as you see.”
Like a pair of puppets worked by the same strings, Drew and the man beside him leaned forward to study it.
“This documentation will be invaluable when the time comes to assert a claim,” said the solicitor, adding with a hint of warning, “particularly as neither of you is a direct descendant of the current or previous holder of the title.”