If You Give A Girl A Viscount

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

As soon as Charlie got the word in the ballroom of a fight out at the stables and a possible injury to a young lady, he rushed to the scene. Only Daisy was there.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

His whole body tensed for her answer.

She nodded quickly, and he felt a great rush of relief. When he took her hands—what had become to him her very precious hands—he noticed her fingers trembling.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

She nodded, but there was something still wrong. She didn’t quite meet his eyes.

His heart sank. Their talk of this morning … it had changed things. He wasn’t sure what to do about that. It was why all day he’d been miserable, even as he knew that he’d done his job—their moneymaking scheme was destined to become a great success.

Or so he’d thought.

Mr. Beebs held a whip dangling from his hand. “Miss Montgomery,” he said in husky tones. “I’m so sorry I ever brought him here as a guest.”

She had no trouble meeting his eyes. “Don’t be. You couldn’t know what he was like.” She hesitated and inhaled a great breath. “Thank you for saving Cassandra. I can’t thank you enough.”

“You saved her?” Charlie asked Mr. Beebs. “From whom?”

“Mr. King,” Daisy interjected.

“Where is he?” Charlie spun to search the grounds for signs of the man’s imposing figure.

Daisy laid a hand on his arm. “Mr. Beebs took care of him already.”

“So I did,” said the man with no swagger. He tossed the whip toward the stables. “Thank God I got here in time.”

“The guests—” Charlie began.

“I think they’ll leave without paying.” Daisy’s voice was small.

“I think you’re right, Miss Montgomery.” Mr. Beebs sighed.

Charlie raked a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t I demand half the money up front? What was I thinking?”

Daisy shook her head. “Who’d have imagined this sort of outcome? Don’t berate yourself.”

But her words were no comfort. He’d let her down. And his grandmother, as well. All because—

The truth was he hadn’t taken this whole enterprise very seriously. He’d been more interested in flirting with Miss Montgomery.

Daisy blinked rapidly at Mr. Beebs. “We won’t have the feu duty by the first of July.”

Mr. Beebs winced, his expression most sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Miss Montgomery. I did my best to help you get it.”

She sank to the ground and let out one, small sob. “I’ll do anything, Mr. Beebs. Anything.” She lifted her head. “You know that bird you’ve been seeking so avidly? Well, I think I found one. I’ve been keeping an eye out all week. I know exactly where its nest is.”

“Do you?”

She nodded. “I’ll show you—if you can let us stay another year. We’ll hold another Highland venture soon, and we’ll get you your money—”

He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

Daisy wiped her eyes with a shaky hand. “What if I—what if I put in a good word for you with Cassandra?”

Mr. Beebs froze. “I—I—”

Daisy smiled through her tears. “You’re a good man, Mr. Beebs! I wouldn’t be lying. She saw you rescue her.”

“You can’t make someone love another person.” Mr. Beebs drew himself up as if he were shocked she’d even suggest such a thing. “No matter how many good words you put in for them.”

Daisy shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.” Her buzzing-bees-and-honey voice cracked. “Oh, Charlie. If only you had your money.”

Charlie’s chest tightened. This was the real Daisy. Desperate. Willing to do anything—she’d said so herself—to get her home back.

What did he think of her now?

He sympathized with her plight, yes, but he also felt the old wariness creep back in, the suspicion that she was like all the other women who’d dared to get close to him—after money. Property.

Things.

He crouched next to her. “You’ll be all right,” he said quietly, and looked up at Mr. Beebs. “You won’t kick them out of Castle Vandemere, will you?”

Mr. Beebs’s expression was grim. “I’ve no choice. The laird doesn’t appear to take the slightest interest in the properties. His men of business handle all legal and financial matters pertaining to the estate. They’re sticklers for doing everything by the rule book.”

“Can’t you contact him?” Charlie asked.

“His people are hefty gatekeepers,” said Mr. Beebs. “And in fact, I had no idea who he was until I met my contact in Edinburgh this past week. According to him, he’s extremely wealthy and has better things to do, I suppose, than worry about a couple of castles rich in heritage here in the most magnificent part of the country.” His tone was wry. “To tell you the truth, by allowing you here, I’ve been taking shameless advantage of his negligence.”

“Who is he?” Charlie asked.

Daisy looked up. “Yes, who?”

Mr. Beebs swallowed hard and cocked his head to the side. “It’s you, Lord Lumley.”