Page 2 of Border Lord’s Bride

Heather hiccupped loudly and ruffled her hand through her short, pale gold curls as she detached herself. "You cannot know how worried we were after Marcus died. Uncle Horatio kept coming to visit, and every time he came, more of the servants disappeared. We have only Hadwell and Marie to care for us now."

Heather sank into a chair next to a table holding several stitchery looms and a mass of tangled thread. The fourteen-year-old picked up one of the looms, bowed her head, and fixed her attention to the embroidery she'd abandoned upon his entrance. But even her sudden feigned absorption didn't hide the fear etched plainly on her thin face.

"Only Hadwell and Marie remain?" Lucius asked, dropping his gaze to the two sisters still in his arms. They'd had two score servants, at one time.

"Heather is exaggerating," Camellia said in her clear, melodic voice. "There are others, but not many."

Iris clung to his leg as though refusing to let go of him ever again. She had grown so much since he'd seen her last. She must be nearly eight years old now.

Lily had been an infant when he'd left. The youngest, at six, she pulled away from his other leg and nodded, sending her golden curls bobbing.

Lucius frowned. There had to be more to the story, something the girls weren't saying. "I'm here and willing to take my place as your guardian and as the Earl of Carrick. Uncle Horatio has no further claim to Midwick Manor now that I am home."

"Not unless you die," Iris said with a slight lisp, her lips turned down in a pout. She gripped his leg all the harder.

"Well, it's settled then, because I have no intention of dying." He gave Iris a squeeze and disentangled her from his leg with a cheerful smile, despite the sudden unease his sisters' words had sparked in him.

The room erupted into conversation once more as his sisters hurled one question after another at him.

"What was it like being a Templar?" Rose asked, edging closer to him, her face alight with interest.

"Did you have to kill anyone?" Iris asked with a frown.

"Were you lonely without us?" Camellia plopped into the chair opposite Heather and plucked at the embroidery threads on the table between them.

"Heaven above, what's with the chatter?" a familiar voice called from the hallway. Hadwell hastened through the doorway, his gaze passing over each sister until it came to rest on Lucius. The estate's steward startled for a moment before his face wreathed in a smile. "Praise the saints! Lord Carrick. From the message ye sent, we weren't expectin' ye to arrive 'til tomorrow. Marie'll be in a tither when she finds out. She was savin' the hindquarter for supper tomorrow." The middle-aged man, who'd spent forty of his fifty years in service at Midwick Manor, expelled a soft grunt as he bowed.

Lucius placed a hand on the retainer's shoulder, encouraging the man to rise. "We need not be so formal, Hadwell."

"Me old back thanks ye, lad." His eyes went wide. "Forgive me—milord."

Lucius turned back to the room. "Girls, excuse me. We can talk more over supper. Hadwell and I have things to discuss." Lucius turned to his steward. "Come," he said, setting off for the great hall, where they could talk more openly. He paused before the arched oak double doors. "I need to know everything that has happened here at Midwick Manor since I've been gone." He pushed the doors open and signaled Hadwell to enter.

The man hesitated, and wariness flickered in his eyes for an instant before the look vanished. He stepped inside the empty hall. "Ye and Peter, God rest his soul, have been gone, what, five years, followin' the Templars?"

Lucius flinched at the mention of Peter's name, then nodded impatiently. He moved toward the hearth and the two long benches angled in front of the open grate. "Tell me, Hadwell. What is happening? Why is my father's brother scaring off the staff?"

Hadwell slipped onto the bench as though his legs were no longer able to support him. "While yer father yet lived all was well. 'Tis only when Marcus inherited that things turned rough."

Lucius sat on the bench near the fire. Warmth enveloped him, yet did nothing to relieve the chill that had settled inside. "Rough. In what way?"

"Yer brother did well enough, and the estate produces well, at least it did. The troubles started after Marcus died. That's when most of the servants and some of the crofters disappeared after yer uncle's visits. Lucky fer us 'tis winter and the crops are yet tae be sowed."

Lucius stood and paced before the fire. "What could Horatio possibly gain by crippling the estate? And why are the servants leaving? Many of them have spent their entire lives here at Midwick."

" 'Tis troubling," Hadwell agreed as he stood also. "He must be offerin' them somethin' they can't say nay tae."

Lucius stopped in front of the faithful steward. "Thank you for staying with the girls, Hadwell. Your loyalty will not go unrewarded."

The old man grinned. " 'Tis and has always been a pleasure tae serve yer family."

The tension in Lucius's shoulders eased. "I'll be needing you now more than ever to guide me. I've been a warrior for so long, I've forgotten all else. I'm ready to assume my responsibilities."

Hadwell's gaze fixed on his face. "All of 'em, milord?"

"Of course." He frowned suspiciously. "Why?"

" 'Cuz there's one obligation I'm nae sure ye'll like. There's nay way out of it though. 'Tis almost as if the previous Lord Carrick knew—"