Page 40 of A Caribbean Heiress in Paris
“A very beautiful woman,” Murdoch interjected, with a slick smile that made Evan want to punch his cousin right in the mouth.
“Papa knew her family.” Beatrice let that piece of information land in the middle of the room as she tore a piece off a croissant.Papawas her husband’s father. Their own progenitor required no such endearments. “I asked him about it at breakfast, since Murdoch said she was from the Caribbean.”
“How many breakfasts have you had, Beatrice?”
If his sister could slice through flesh with her eyes, she’d be the best surgeon in Scotland. “I amgestating, James Evanston, and attempting to keep myself nourished as I grow another of Gerard’s enormous bairns is no easy feat.” They all laughed at her put-upon expression as she bit into the pastry. “As I was saying, you remember Papa was a solicitor in Barbados for some time.” Her smile widened in that way that Evan remembered only too well from their childhood. It was usually the preamble to someone getting splashed with cold water or having a frog tossed on their lap. “He knew her father, Lachlan Heith was his name, a good man according to him.” That was high praise if it came from the ambassador. The man was as honorable as any Evan had ever met. He was a fearless critic of the vestiges of colonialism in the West Indies and a staunch abolitionist. He had almost lost his diplomatic career for it.
And he’d known Luz Alana’s father. He smiled remembering her lesson on Dominican–Scottish relations from their first meeting.
“What else did the ambassador say?”
His sister smiled shyly.
“Did your rum heiress tell you she was the granddaughter of a baron? Her father was the youngest son of the Baron of Gaile.”
“ThatI did not know.” Evan was surprised at the flash of disappointment. She hadn’t trusted him enough to mention that. Which was ridiculous and hypocritical given everythinghe’dkept—and would continue to keep—from her. But perhaps Luz Alana’s approach was the wiser one. Only offer up information as was required.
Beatrice made a sound of approval as she chewed her croissant. “It seems he broke with his family in his early twenties and left for the Caribbean.”
“The plot thickens,” Murdoch intoned, which Evan ignored.
“Has she talked about the rest of her family?” Addy inquired as she sat with her retinue of yapping dogs. Adalyn had always yearned for a big, loving family. When she was small, she’d beg their mother to leave her in Murdoch’s home for weeks at a time. Unfortunately, there would be no Heith clan forthcoming.
“She’s talked about their business model, which is highly unusual,” he told his sisters in an effort to steer the conversation into safer waters.
“The workers own shares in the distillery,” Raghav explained. He’d been fascinated by the idea when Evan relayed it to him.
“Yes.” He enjoyed talking about her. Liked even more to see other people recognize how magnificent Luz Alana was. “The workers get dividends from the distillery’s revenues on top of their compensation.”
“That’s certainly different,” Beatrice said.
“She only has a ten percent interest remaining, shared with a younger sister. She returned her father’s shares before she left Santo Domingo, which is partly why she needs help. But the more pressing matter is her inheritance. Her father left it in a trust she cannot access, and she needs the funds to start her business in Scotland.”
“And how are you to help her with that?” Addy’s eyebrows immediately shot up with interest.
“Upon her marriage, her husband would automatically become the administrator. I’ve agreed to release all the funds to her once we’ve wed.”
“She’s putting a lot of trust in your hands,” Beatrice said with an approving tone Evan did not want to investigate too closely.
“You’d find her plans for her business expansion interesting, Addy,” he redirected...once again. “She wants to make cordials from tropical fruits and develop the product especially for women. She wants the production process and the sales to all be done by women too.” Evan suppressed a smile when his sister’s eyes lit up. “She experimented in the Dominican Republic by training street merchants to sell her rum, and it did very well. She wants to do that in Scotland with the cordials.”
“I would love to hear more about it.” Addy had that hungry glean she got when she identified her newest pursuit.
“I commend the extremes you’re going to in order to help a perfect stranger, brother. But unless you’ve transformed into an entirely different person in the month since you left Edinburgh, I know there must be something you’re getting out of this deal.”
Beatrice had him there.
“You mean besides a wealthy heiress that looks like a goddess?” Raghav said in that tone he used when he was preparing to trample on every single one of Evan’s nerves.
“You are well aware that I don’t plan to touch her inheritance.”
“But a loveless marriage, Evan. I don’t want that for you.”
Adalyn had given up everything to escape that fate. When their father had informed her that at nineteen she’d have to wed a prosperous viscount, who was not only almost three decades older but whose previous three wives had died in mysterious circumstances, Addy had refused. Knowing she’d be disowned, she’d eloped with one of the compatriots she knew from her many political associations. She’d been happy for a time, and then the man had died of consumption only two years after their marriage. Since then she’d lived off the income she received from their grandfather’s inheritance and the assistance Evan provided.
No, his sister, who lived faithfully by her ideals, would not want him to compromise.
Suddenly he felt a little defensive on Luz Alana’s part. What Adalyn had done hadn’t been easy. She had given up everything, but when she eloped with William, she’d had her own money—not a fortune, but enough to live on comfortably—and she’d had Evan and Beatrice. Luz Alana only had herself, plus a sister to look after.
