Chapter Three
Cat smiled at Aunt Jennie over the breakfast table.
Jennie, who was otherwise known as the Countess of Strathmore, sipped her tea and looked at her niece with bright gray eyes.
“It is so good to have you here, my dear! Despite your father writing me pages and pages of instructions about keeping you safe. I’m no’ sure what he thinks happens here in London, but clearly it isn’t up to his standards. ”
That made Cat laugh. Her father was very protective of his only daughter, and she had feared he may forbid her from coming to London. She suspected her mother had persuaded him it would be good for her, and besides, what mischief could she get up to with Jennie watching over her?
Plenty, if her brothers were any indication!
Bothwell, her aunt’s cat, was smooching around her ankles, so she reached down and gave him a pat. Her brothers had warned her never to touch Aunt Jennie’s cat, but Bothwell the cat seemed perfectly friendly to her. Perhaps it was just the MacKenzie men the feline disliked.
“What are your plans for today?” Jennie reached for some toast.
“I am meeting Prudence and Harriet Snowden.” The two girls were her sister-in-law Grace’s sisters and had been to Bonnyrigg on occasion.
Cat had always gotten on well with them and enjoyed their company.
Prudence was nineteen now with Harriet two years younger.
At twenty-two years, Cat was their senior, and they seemed to think her the fount of all knowledge, which amused her.
However, this time Cat was hoping to pick their brains.
“Then I willna worry,” Jennie said, reassured. “I know Prudence and Harriet are sensible girls.”
Cat tried not to cringe with guilt. No one knew the real reason she had come to London. Although, that was not completely true; part of the reason she was here was because of what was happening at home.
Her father had taken Uncle James’s advice, and Lord Armytage’s demands were now before the courts.
It would likely be there for a good while, and in the meantime the family were trying their best to carry on as normal.
But Cat couldn’t do that. She couldn’t pretend everything was normal when the possible loss of Bonnyrigg Castle was hanging over her.
So she had suggested to her parents that she follow in her brothers’ footsteps and make a visit to London.
Better than moping about the castle, she had told them.
They had agreed, and everyone believed Cat was here in London seeing the sights and enjoying herself when the truth was she had a plan. Which was to track down Lord Armytage’s grandson, the Honorable Sinclair Robertson, and then persuade or threaten or demand that he help her.
She knew a lot more about him now than she had when he was first mentioned by Maxwell at that memorable and depressing dinner.
Before she left for London, Cat had asked a great many questions about Sinclair, while being careful not to draw attention to herself.
A sweet smile and an innocent expression were particularly useful, or simply nodding to show she was patiently listening while her target blathered on and on.
It was amazing what people would tell her.
Then she just needed to weed out the interesting bits from the dross.
For instance, she knew Sinclair was twenty-four years old, and Lord Armytage had taken guardianship of him when his parents died.
He had been sent to one of the most rigorous schools in Edinburgh, and afterward he had gone to London so that he could gain some polish.
Lord Armytage visited him now and again, probably to keep an eye on him, but most of the time the older man preferred his northern residence.
The two were not said to be close, which was good news, in Cat’s opinion. She thought she could work with that.
In the meantime, she was hopeful that Prudence and Harriet would know more or could find out more once she explained matters to them.
As for how she was going to get Sinclair to listen to her .
. .? She hadn’t decided how she would approach him or what she could use to persuade him to do her bidding.
For instance, did he have dark secrets? Did he secretly hate his autocratic grandfather as much as Cat did, or was he too weak to stand up to the old man?
Did he resent him enough to consider plotting against him?
Or would she have to use her wiles on him, smiling and simpering, while begging for his help?
“Your uncle is about somewhere.” Jennie’s words interrupted her thoughts. “We have an engagement tonight, and you are welcome to join us. I want you to enjoy yourself as much as possible, my dear.”
Uncle James had accompanied Cat from Bonnyrigg to London.
He had been in Scotland, offering support to his brother-in-law, but now that the courts were involved, there was nothing more for him to do.
It had worked out very nicely for Cat, because she was doubtful her father would have allowed her to travel south on her own.
“Thank you, Aunt Jennie, but I am content to spend time with the Snowden girls,” Cat said. “We always have so much to say to each other.”
Jennie’s smile faded a little, and she sighed.
“I am so worried about Bonnyrigg, and I know you are too, although you are putting on a very brave face. No matter how long I have lived in London, I still think of Bonnyrigg as my home. I only hope Maxwell can win his suit against Armytage. What a horrid man!”
“If anyone can win, then it is my father,” Cat said, attempting to cheer her aunt up.
The truth was that her fears for the MacKenzies and their home were never far from her mind.
What would become of them if they lost Bonnyrigg?
Would her father go back to gamekeeping?
How could her mother survive living in the forests at her age?
And what would happen to her brothers and their wives and families?
As the heirs to the title and the estate, Callum and Penelope were wan with worry, fearing their future was about to be ripped away from them.
Cat really could not let that happen and whatever she needed to do to prevent it then she would do it.
“You know you always have a home here with me,” Jennie said passionately. “All of you would be most welcome!”
Cat thanked her, feeling rather teary, but she couldn’t help but picture her entire family taking over her aunt and uncle’s house, and tried not to shudder.
Besides, Callum would miss the forests so much, and Donal too.
Her youngest brother was the estate manager for Bonnyrigg, taking some of the load off Callum’s shoulders, and the two of them worked as a team.
And what of the children, Henrietta and Little Maxwell and the children still to be born? What would become of them?
Sometimes she felt she would run mad thinking about it.
That was why she really had no choice but to do her very best to keep her home and her family safe from the clutches of that awful man.
After Prudence and Harriet had settled themselves with tea and cake in the sitting room, and Jennie and James had left for their evening engagement, Cat got down to business.
The two girls were aware of what was happening to Bonnyrigg and Lord Armytage’s demands.
Now they listened with wide eyes as Cat explained how she wanted to find the Honorable Sinclair Robertson and make him understand all of the reasons why his grandfather must be stopped or at least be persuaded to offer more reasonable terms.
Prudence tapped her fingertip against her chin.
She was a pretty girl, with tawny hair and bright-blue eyes.
She and her sister were living with a cousin called Hugo Snowden, who had inherited from their father, the Earl of Ormsby, his house in London and the estate in the country as well as the title.
The earl had died in a riding accident after his eldest daughter Grace—more correctly his step-daughter—had married Cat’s brother Rory.
For a time, the girls had lived with Rory and Grace, but then Hugo and his wife Amy had agreed to take on their care.
Or rather Rory had “persuaded” them it was the right thing to do.
And it had suited the two girls to remain in London.
Here they had a home but also as much freedom as they wished for.
Hugo was not a strict guardian by any means and a welcome change from their father.
“I have heard gossip about Sinclair,” Prudence said thoughtfully. “I think because Grace married a Scot, people think I have an interest in anything remotely Scottish.”
Cat sipped her tea. She was aware that Prudence prided herself on knowing everything that went on in London, which was one of the reasons Cat had enlisted her help. “What do the gossips say?” she asked now.
“Only that he spends a great deal of his time at the Lyon’s Den. Have you heard of it, Cat?”
Cat had not, but she was willing to learn.
“It is a gambling hell, eh, club,” Harriet piped up, holding a hand over her cake-filled mouth. She swallowed and continued. “But there is more to the Lyon’s Den than gaming and losing one’s money. The owner is Mrs. Dove-Lyon, and she is a sort of matchmaker.”
“Goodness,” Cat whispered, her blue eyes wide. She tucked a stray curl of her auburn hair behind her ear. “I had no’ thought of that as a solution to our troubles.”
“Marrying him, do you mean?” Prudence looked startled and far too excited. Then she shook her head regretfully. “I don’t see how that would help, Cat. As his wife you would become his property. Why should he listen to you?”
“You’re forgetting,” Harriet reminded her sister, sounding far older than her seventeen years, “Mrs. Dove-Lyon would be sure to arrange matters so you had everything you wanted. You would be her client. She is very good at making sure her clients get what they want. Or at least,” she frowned, “what she thinks they want, even if they don’t know it themselves.
And the amazing thing is, she is usually right. ”
“That sounds rather scheming,” Cat said.
“I like it.” She considered. “Perhaps the marriage contract could promise me Bonnyrigg and everything else his grandfather is stealing from us?” Then, her spirits sinking, “But why would he want to marry me in the first place? It isn’t as if this Mrs. Dove-Lyon could force him down the aisle if he didn’t want to go. ”
The two girls exchanged amused looks. “Why? Because you are beautiful, and any man would be a fool to turn you down?” Prudence suggested teasingly.
“Hmm. I think you are a wee bit biased,” Cat retorted. She was aware that she was regarded by those who knew her as a pretty girl, but the truth was she rarely gave it a thought except when it came in useful for obtaining something she wanted.
“Perhaps the idea of marrying him can be a last resort,” Harriet announced in her pedantic way.
She had darker hair than her sister but the same blue eyes as Prudence, and whereas Prudence was a bit of a romantic, Harriet was far more practical.
“First things first. You need to speak to him and lay your concerns before him. I will find out his address, and we will go with you.”
Cat opened her mouth to object and closed it again. Harriet was right, she should have someone with her. If Sinclair Robertson was as nasty as his grandfather, then she might find herself in peril. At least with the three of them, there she would stand a chance of heading off any unpleasantness.
“What will Hugo say?” she asked. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want you both involved in this.”
Prudence snorted a laugh. “Hugo barely acknowledges we exist. He and Amy are too busy enjoying themselves.”
“He won’t notice we’re gone,” Harriet agreed. Then, with a sympathetic glance at her sister, “Although speaking of marriage . . .”
Prudence groaned. “Hugo wants me to make a good match. Which means someone wealthy and probably old and ugly. Every time he mentions it, I pretend I have an urgent engagement and hurry out of the room.”
“We might have to run away to Scotland,” Harriet said thoughtfully. “I know Grace would help us.”
Her sisters loved Grace and were no doubt worried about her future, too.
“All the more reason to save Bonnyrigg,” Cat said practically. She lifted her teacup in a toast and the other two gently clinked their own fine china cups against hers. “To saving Bonnyrigg!”
“To saving Bonnyrigg!” the two girls echoed.