Page 23 of Kidnapping Cordelia

They walked for another mile or more, chatting as they went, and taking a different path from the one they’d arrived by, when Luella pointed ahead of them. “There is Muir’s place, up ahead.”

“Oh,” Delia said, looking at the grand building with a little surprise. The only dwellings she had seen on their journey before night had fallen had been small crofter’s cottages and modest stone houses and she’d wondered what to expect of Muir’s home. This was something else.

“Himself built it when Muir was born,” Luella said with a smile.

“Himself?”

She smiled at Delia’s confusion and nodded. “The Earl of Morven. He knew Lyall would inherit the title and Wildsyde and it’s difficult to make a life in the Highlands. He wanted to ensure his sons could stay close and prosper. So, the sheep farm is Muir’s and Hamilton was put in charge of the herring boats, though from what I hear of him these days he has a finger in every pie in Wick.”

Delia looked at her expectantly and Luella laughed. “I can’t keep up with him. The last I heard of Hamilton, he’d bought a whisky distillery. He started his own shipyard three years ago. With the enormous increase in the herring trade, not to mention exporting the fine wool that’s produced in these parts, well, that young man is doing very well for himself.”

“In trade?” Delia said hesitantly, for she had never heard anyone from a noble family speak so openly about doing such a thing. It was tantamount to social suicide, making whoever dared to dabble in such a grubby enterprise a pariah among his equals.

“I’m afraid so,” Luella said, looking at Delia with a speculative gleam in her eyes. “Are you horribly shocked?”

“Y-Yes, and no,” she replied carefully, not wanting to offend the woman who had welcomed her so warmly. “I have always been taught that to be in trade is a dreadful thing, you see. My father would certainly condemn him without a moment's hesitation, but my father is not a nice man nor one who would ever lift a finger to earn his own keep.”

She thought then of how the duke had spent his fortune so selfishly that there was nothing left for Wrexham to inherit. If not for her brother’s foresight and good fortune in investing in Mr Gabriel Knight’s railway scheme, the family would have been brought to ruin.

“My brother, however, is a good man, and one who would do anything to ensure the safety and prosperity of his family. I think he would wholeheartedly approve of Mr Hamilton’s efforts, and so do I. A man with intelligence and ambition ought to take the opportunities given to him to make a good life for himself. It is only a pity that we do not have those same opportunities. My value was in my virtue, and now that has gone, I’m worthless despite my dowry,” Delia said with a catch in her voice.

“My dear,” Luella said, taking hold of her hands and squeezing them tightly. “No one in this family thinks that way, I assure you, and neither will any man of good sense.”

“That does not mean they will wish to marry me,” Delia replied, grateful for her kind words but too aware of the truth to allow herself to be lulled into thinking it was not so very bad. “If Muir and I find we suit, perhaps I will have a lucky escape, but otherwise the only offers I shall receive are from men desperate enough for my money to overlook my reputation. I do not think that will be a happy basis for a marriage.”

“Then we must hope you and Muir do suit,” Luella said, her voice gentle. “And I have to say, I do not see why not. If you think you could endure life in such a remote part of the world.”

“I think I could do so very easily, if only I could find a way to be useful. I know Muir thinks I’m ill-suited to such a life.”

“And what do you think?” Luella asked, holding her gaze.

Delia put her chin up. “I think, like most men, he underestimates what women are capable of.”

“That’s my girl,” Luella said approvingly. “You show him what you’re made of. I faced many of the same challenges when I arrived, you know, and you’ll be amazed by what you can achieve when you put your mind to it. What do you think of the house, by the way?”

“I think it’s very fine,” Delia replied, gazing across fields dotted with hundreds of sheep towards the stone manor house.

It was handsome, rather than pretty, built to withstand the harsh environment in which it stood. The house was modest compared to Wrexham’s vast estates and holding, but the place had a friendly aspect that appealed to her. It looked to be a comfortable home rather than an impressive showpiece, a place where one could be contented to raise a family and live a life free of the expectations of others. To her surprise, Delia found she could imagine herself in such a place without difficulty, though imagining herself living there with Muir was a harder image to conjure.

“Come on, then, let’s see if Muir is around. At least we can get his housekeeper to make us a cup of tea. I warn you, though, Mrs Paterson is a formidable woman. She frightened the wits out of me when I first met her.”

Delia looked at the Lady Buchanan sceptically, for she did not look like the kind of woman who found anything daunting. She was elegant and self-possessed and exuded a quiet strength and confidence that Delia wished very much to emulate.

“She did, I swear it,” Luella said, laughing in the face of Delia’s expression. “But the trick is to stand up to her. If you let her bully you, she will continue to do so, but if you show no fear, then you’ll earn her respect. Eventually.”

“Eventually?” Delia said, not liking the sound of the housekeeper one bit.

“Probably,” Luella said, which was not in the least bit reassuring. “Don’t be disappointed if Muir isn’t here. They’ve a busy time ahead. Lambing generally starts around the first week of April and it’s heavy going until they’re all born.”

“Muir really is a farmer, then?” Delia asked, realising she had assumed he was more of a gentleman farmer who let others do the hard work.

“He doesn’t have to be, for he has good men working for him, but he’s not the sort to sit idle. Muir takes a pride in the farm and the quality of his sheep. You understand that the wool they produce is very sought after and fetches a high price, even for these parts, where the demand is increasing at an incredible rate.”

“I didn’t really, but I do now. I have a great deal to learn, don’t I?”

“Yes, but that’s the fun of it, you see. I couldn’t cook when I got here, but Mrs Baillie took me on and now I’m a fair hand with a pudding or a pie, if I do say so myself.”

“You cook?” Delia said, and then hurriedly rearranged her face to one that was less shocked.