Kieran Kramer - If You Give A Girl A Viscount

Highlanders were awfully forthright. And damned perceptive.

Daisy sighed. “I—I did see her paying attention to him after he saved her from Mr. King, but I thought it was because she was grateful.”

Hester nodded knowingly. “It was more than that, and it’s cruel to pretend it’s not happening. Ye’ve got to say something to her. Let her air her grief.”

“Oh, dear.” Daisy bit her lip. “I feel terrible that all this while, Cassandra’s been suffering in silence.”

Daisy knew how it felt to love someone and then realize it was over. It was a living hell, was what it was.

“Mr. Beebs may be older, but he’s not a bad man,” Hester reminded her. “You have to let Cassandra fall in love her way, not yours. Or anyone else’s. If you care about her happiness.”

“Of course I do, but it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s gone.”

Hester made a scoffing noise. “He’s not gone. He’s away, not thirty miles from here. He’s managing a property in Glen Muldoon.”

Daisy stared at her. “How would you know?”

Hester shrugged. “I’m an old woman with my ear to the ground.”

Daisy paused at the small window near the fireplace and looked up at the Keep. She could swear she saw Charlie on the sweeping grassy lawn, looking out over the glen, and he was looking at her little cottage.

“What are you going to do about him?” Hester asked her.

“I don’t know,” she said with a shake of her head. “I really don’t.”

“You’ll think of something.” Hester squeezed her shoulder. “And while you do, I’ll ask a man in the village to set off first thing tomorrow morning for Mr. Beebs.”

“Will you?” Daisy felt so grateful.

“We’ve got to get Miss Cassandra happy.”

Daisy glanced once more at that little stick figure on the hill in front of the Keep.

If it were Charlie, was he thinking of her?

Or had she already become a distant memory?

She didn’t have time to think any more on the matter, however, because Cassandra came running to the door of the cottage, a bright smile on her face and a piece of paper fluttering in her hand.

“Come outside,” she said. “Look what Mrs. Skene’s son brought by.”

“A message from Mr. Beebs,” said Joe, hobbling as fast as his legs would carry him. His broad face beamed.

“He arrived back in Glen Dewey today.” Cassandra’s voice trembled a wee bit.

“He did?” Daisy exchanged glances with Hester.

“Yes,” said Cassandra. “He’s working up at the Keep again, and he’s to come see me in the morning. He says Lord Lumley is perfectly amenable to the idea—in fact, he insists upon it.”

“That’s marvelous news!” Daisy hugged her.

Hester chuckled. “Oh, I like when a man doesn’t need any coaxing to come see his lady love.”

Cassandra hugged her, too.

“It’s a braw, bricht day,” said Joe, doing a little jig, which he somehow managed even with his lame foot. “It’s a braw, bricht day!”

“Yes, it is, dear brother,” Hester murmured, her cheek still resting on Cassandra’s.

Daisy gazed with them, off into the distance, to the moor and the sky and the craggy mountains rising high above the loch.

It was a beautiful day, a day which would make even the most despairing woman in love dare to hope for a happy ending, especially when she knows the man she adores has righted a wrong—and has made sure she knows about it!

A month later

Charlie paced about his bedchamber at the Keep; he’d installed himself in the one where he’d shared so many passionate moments with Daisy. The invitations to the ceilidh had gone out that very morning. The event would be held three days hence, following two days’ hunting with his male guests and some of his good friends in the village.

But would Daisy come?

He had no idea.

She must. She simply must! He wanted her at the center of his life. It was why he’d been working so hard all these weeks, day in and day out. Along with every other able-bodied man in the area, he’d been revitalizing the Keep but spending even more time restoring Castle Vandemere—fixing its sagging drawbridge, cleaning out the smoking chimneys, and rebuilding the crumbling hearths.

He’d done it for Daisy. He’d done it to show her that he wasn’t afraid to lavish his money on things she loved. He would spend money freely because he knew she would love him even if he never fixed Castle Vandemere.

He trusted her, and he loved her.

But how to explain all this to Daisy? How to make her see that he’d changed? He was still the same man—ridiculously wealthy—but he was a new man. He’d always known his wealth didn’t define him, but he’d also never been sure what did .

Now he knew. And he trusted that his actions would show other people what kind of man he was, too.

He could let go of that wall he’d put up between himself and the rest of the world. He could let go and let people in.

Somehow he would prove all this to Daisy at the ceilidh .

He wondered if he’d taken too big a risk staying away from her so long. It had tortured him, this separation. What if it hadn’t bothered her? Perhaps she’d already forgotten about him.

Not that he’d had much time to dwell on that concern. His guests from London had arrived. His grandmother, God bless her, had made the long trek up to the Highlands. She was Daisy’s godmother, she’d said in her return letter to him, and she wanted to see her for herself after all these years.

Several family members had accompanied Grandmother—two of Charlie’s sisters and their husbands, as well as their children. And then there were his best friends—Harry, Nicholas, and Stephen. They’d come up with their wives and children, as well. Even Stephen’s new baby had made the trip.

The Keep was loud and noisy at the moment. He loved being with people who loved him, people who wanted him happy. And it made sense that when you were taking a massive gamble, you’d surround yourself with people who love you even if you were to fall flat on your face.

“So you’re back to spending money like water,” Nicholas told him with a chuckle.

They were in the library—just Charlie and his very best friends.

“It needed to be done,” Charlie replied. “My parents have restored my access to the family money, now that I’ve explained that I’ve … matured. I’m drawing funds from a bank in Edinburgh.”

“You lucky dog,” said Nicholas. “This is a magnificent place. How you could have overlooked it in your portfolio of properties—”

“It’s easy when you’re as rich as Charlie,” Harry said. “You have an entire staff handling everything from business matters to the color of your coats.”

Charlie shifted uneasily. “Yes, well, I won’t be allowing that to happen anymore. I’m going to be much more hands-on from here on out. It’s my life, and I won’t have anyone else shape it for me.”

“My,” said Harry.

Charlie watched as his friends all exchanged surprised glances.

“Why the change of heart?” Stephen asked.

Charlie chuckled. “Because of this journey north. I’ve had opportunity to, shall I say, reflect.”

Harry laughed. “The trip’s obviously been full of lots of surprises.”

“Yes,” Charlie replied.

“So have you solved Miss Montgomery’s problem, whatever it is?” Stephen asked.

Charlie took a swig of Joe’s fine whisky. “No. Not yet.”

“When will you?” Harry asked.

“I hope to soon,” Charlie said vaguely.

“What’s her problem, exactly?” Nicholas leaned back in his comfortable club chair and waited.