Chapter 18 #3

"With all the concert parties being held this evening, it seems Lady Strathlin is not the only one who admires Miss Lind," Connor said. "Though hers may be the only party that the singer actually attends."

"We were invited to three different parties, all held at the same time," Mary Faire explained to Dougal. "So we thought it best to attend two—Lady Strathlin's, of course, and one other, given by friends on Calton Hill, close to home."

"Ah. I've been meaning to ask," Dougal said, "if you know the baroness well."

"We met her once or twice at soirees and concerts," Connor answered.

"And along with my associate, Dr. Lewes, I attended the wife of Sir Frederick Matheson, one of Lady Strathlin's banking associates.

The woman had a chronic illness and became an increasing invalid until she died about a year ago.

It was a very sad case. As I recall, Lady Strathlin insisted on paying all the medical bills. A very generous gesture."

Dougal frowned. "Indeed. I met recently with Sir Frederick, but I had no idea his wife had died.

He never mentioned it." In fact, Dougal thought, he had mentioned that he shortly expected to become engaged to Lady Strathlin.

"But I had the impression that he is not in dire need at all.

Lady Strathlin's assistance in his expenses is. .. curious."

"She has a magnanimous nature for such a young woman," Mary Faire said. "She has modesty without arrogance."

"One might think so," Dougal said.

"After all, she inherited only six or seven years ago, when she was barely eighteen. The fortune had come to her somewhat earlier and was held in trust by the bank until she reached majority."

"Majority?" Dougal looked at her.

"Have you never heard of the Matheson Bank heiress?" she asked.

"I pay very little attention to the doings of society."

"True. You avoid parties and gossip like the plague, which is commendable in its own way," Mary Faire said. "And you're always out there on some rock or another."

"He quite literally seldom comes up for air, from what I understand of his work lately," Connor said, and he grinned.

"One does not hear much gossip under the ocean," Dougal drawled.

"I thought you were acquainted with Lady Strathlin and have carried on a regular correspondence with her," Mary Faire said.

"Aye, we thought you knew her," Connor added. "She came to the house to call on you and dropped her card—Lady Strathlin, it said, which was a surprise to me, for I did not recognize her."

"You have been introduced only once, and you do not have a good memory for faces," his wife said.

"She came to the house?" Dougal asked.

Connor nodded. "She seemed rather nervous and wanted to remain discreet—gave her name as Miss MacNeill. You came home so late that evening that I had no chance to tell you."

"I wonder what she wanted," Mary Faire said. "Lately her lawyers have turned on you in a most vile manner. I thought perhaps you two were... well, more devoted friends than that."

"The lady and I have corresponded, but it was through her lawyers for the most part and never.

.. well, diverting." He twisted his mouth awry.

"Essentially, I routinely asked permission to build on her island and she routinely refused through her soliciting firm, until the Lighthouse Commission finally authorized me to appeal to the government.

I would not say that we are acquaintances, but more.

.. adversaries." He felt the impact of that like a blow.

And he wondered why she had come to Calton Hill—what had she wanted to say to him? "Tell me what you know about her."

"Her inheritance created quite a stir, from what I understand, although I was not in Edinburgh at the time," Mary Faire said. "She was originally from a simple Highland family, I believe... or was it the Isles... when her grandfather left her the greatest fortune in Scotland."

"Ah," Dougal said. "Her grandfather." He nodded once, remembering Meg's references to a grandfather on the mainland who had left her his library. Indeed, he thought bitterly. Quite a library it must have been.

"When did the initial inheritance occur, Connor dear?"

"Seven years ago, I believe," he answered his wife.

"It really is quite a romantic story," Mary Faire went on.

"The amount was something like two million pounds, from a maternal grandfather.

Apparently, his two sons had died without issue, and his only daughter had died years before, leaving behind a young daughter.

The girl had visited her grandfather as a child, and he designated her his heir, to the shock and surprise of many, from what I understand.

She was so young that a trust was required, as well as special tutors to train her to the position. "

"She was born in the Isles," Dougal said. "When she acquired the inheritance, I suppose almost the first thing she did was purchase the lease to the island where she was raised."

"And thus began your difficulties," Connor told Dougal.

"It would seem so," he agreed.

"As a very young woman she took on not only an enormous fortune," Mary Faire continued, "but the formidable task of overseeing a bank.

None of that could have been easy for one of her years, but she has done an admirable job of it, from what I hear.

Lady Strathlin is well-known for her generosity, and she has been particularly helpful to Highlanders and Islesmen who suffered in the clearances. "

"And closer to home as well. She has lately founded a home for unmarried mothers," Connor said. "It is apparently a particular sympathy of hers—these young women who find themselves in poor straits, with child and without husbands."

"She is not yet married herself," Mary Faire said, "yet she is a prize of such consequence that it is surprising she has not been caught before now."

"I'm sure her bankers and lawyers will have a say in her marriage. Someone of her position can afford to take her time. No doubt she has many suitors," Connor said.

"Aye," Dougal murmured. "No doubt."

That added to the blow of her betrayal. She had not told him who she was or that she intended to marry Sir Frederick Matheson.

If it were true—instinct told him Matheson thought far too much of himself—then she was not the woman he thought he loved.

She was neither the passionate creature he had met on the sea rock, nor the winsome, earnest girl with whom he had fallen so completely in love.

Who was she inside? What did she truly want?

What scheme had the baroness concocted when she had led along the engineer whom her lawyers were setting up to ruin?

Why would she come to see him anonymously at the house on Calton Hill?

If she felt remorse and wanted his forgiveness, she would not have it of him.

He wanted to feed his anger and hurt. It sat cold within him, and he was not ready to give it up. If Meg had betrayed him as it appeared, all he had left was anger.

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