“The gowns and shoes belonged to Sorcha first, did they no’?” Calum tried, but no one was listening to him.
“That necklace has been in my family for years, aye?” Maura pleaded. “It’s all that I have of them.”
“Thank goodness for it, then, for you may repay your considerable debt.”
“Mrs. Garbett,” Calum said firmly.
“What, Mr. Garbett?” she snapped.
It was no use. His wife was livid, Sorcha was still tearful and Mrs. Cadell was trying to persuade her husband they should return to England. All of this in full view of the Duke of Montrose, who remained completely stoic and silent.
What he must think of them. A lot of bumpkins, that was what. Calum was so mortified by this display that he would do anything to have this over and done rather than prolong it another moment, and looking at his wife, he knew that if she didn’t have her revenge, there would be no end to it. He said to the maid, “Fetch the necklace, aye?”
“No,” Maura cried frantically. “You canna have it!”
But Hannah had already scurried from the room to fetch it.
Calum flinched when he looked again at Maura Darby. The pain this caused her was obvious; for the first time since the trouble with Adam Cadell had begun, unshed tears of helplessness filled her blue eyes.
“It pains me to say it, lass, but you must gather your things. ’Tis best you go away until the wedding is done, aye?”
“There willna be a wedding,” Sorcha tearfully announced, and pushed past Adam as she flounced from the room, her red nose leading the way.
Maura slowly straightened from the wall. She gave Calum a look he was certain would terrify any man as she took her leave.
“Thank the saints,” Mrs. Cadell said when she’d gone. “You shouldn’t have that sort of woman in your house, Mr. Garbett, if you’ll not mind me saying. She’s a temptress.”
The coward Adam nodded.
Calum desperately wanted to defend Maura, but the stakes were too high. When the wedding was done, he’d send for her. He’d put it all to rights with her then, and she would understand.
Maura was dispatched that very afternoon.
Unfortunately, the rift between the Cadells and the Garbetts was not so easily dispatched, because Sorcha and her mother refused to listen to reason or apology.
Two days later, Thomas Cadell and Calum Garbett met with the Duke of Montrose again to advise him as to the status of their joint venture. They were both flummoxed as to what to do. “My wife will have my head if I agree to it,” Thomas said.
“My wife will have my balls if I do,” Calum added glumly.
The Duke of Montrose, who had remained uncomfortably silent through the detailed explanation of their ordeal finally spoke. “There might be a way to salvage it yet, aye?” he said. “I know a man who is very adept at solving problems.”
Calum and Thomas eagerly looked up. “A man? What man?” Calum asked.
“Nichol Bain,” the duke said. “He is a man of incomparable skill in matters such as this.” He picked up a quill, dipped it in ink and jotted down his name and location. He slid that across to Calum. “You may no’ care for his methods, but you will be pleased with the results. Send for him straightaway if you want your ironworks, sir.”
Calum sent a messenger to Nichol Bain at Norwood Park in England that very night.
MR. NICHOL BAIN was hoping for a bit more of a challenge in his latest engagement. A problem that would require ingenuity and considerable discretion to resolve. A situation with far-ranging consequences, such as the problem he’d solved for the Duke of Montrose a few years ago, when the duke had been rumored to have murdered his wife at a time he was to be named to the House of Lords. Now that was a problem with twists and turns and a bit of meat on the bone.
He’d even settle for the sort of problem he’d solved for the mild-mannered Dunnan Cockburn, the sole heir of a Scottish linen dynasty who had somehow fallen into a gambling ring and had gotten himself on the wrong side of London moneylenders. Dunnan’s estate was entailed, which meant it was not his to sell as he would like, but held for future generations. It had taken a monumental feat of cunning to find a solicitor who could navigate the complicated history of the entail and carve out a wee bit of Dunnan’s land to sell to pay his last debt, which had been an astronomical sum of three thousand pounds.
And then he’d needed a great deal of finesse to strike a deal with the naïve Dunnan and some rather unsavory characters in London.
But the problem Mr. Garbett and Mr. Cadell presented him was none of those things. He’d been summoned from England to the Garbett mansion near Stirling to resolve a young lover’s quarrel. The problem should have been sorted out by the adults in the room, in Nichol’s opinion. Unfortunately, rational people sometimes acted from passionate feelings rather than reasoned thought. Mr. Garbett and Mr. Cadell didn’t need his help—they needed to step away from the turmoil and their wives, and think.
So, Nichol had taken advantage of their weakness and negotiated a very hefty fee to solve this child’s play for the two iron barons. He considered the work a diversion, a bit of a lark. An exercise that would keep the machinery of his mind well oiled before he moved on to his next engagement that involved a wealthy Welsh merchant and a missing ship.
Nichol first met with Miss Sorcha Garbett, who, in his estimation, was as immature as she was plain. He asked her if she would be so kind to explain how her engagement had ended. Hopefully without tears.
Miss Garbett was quite eager to tell him and railed for a half hour about the unfair treatment of her person by one Miss Maura Darby, who had, for all intents and purposes, been banned from the Garbett house, and who, if Miss Garbett was to be believed, had been persecuting her for years. In the entire half hour, Miss Garbett mentioned her fiancé only in passing. She presented him as a rather unsophisticated gentleman who did not understand the wily ways of a woman. But Miss Darby was another matter entirely.
“Your father’s ward sounds like a dangerous enchantress,” he remarked, more for his own amusement.
“She’s no’ so enchanting,” Miss Garbett sniffed. “She’s no’ as clever as she thinks, and neither is she a true beauty.”
Miss Darby’s looks had not been mentioned at all. “I see,” Nichol said, and oh, did he see. “Might I inquire, Miss Garbett—do you love Mr. Cadell?”
She put a handkerchief to her considerable nose and shrugged delicately.
Bain clasped his hands behind his back and pretended to examine a porcelain figurine. “Does the notion of being mistress of a grand house appeal to you, then?”
She slanted her eyes in his direction.
“I have seen the Cadell house
