Page 10 of The Season for Loving
She couldn’t help an envious sigh. “I’ve always wanted to visit the Highlands. What’s Blairgal like? A castle sounds very romantic.”
“I’ve never thought of it as romantic, but perhaps that’s because I know it so well.”
“Were you raised in the castle?”
“No. My family—” He paused, as if to correct himself. “I own a manor house at the other end of the glen. My uncle is the Laird of Blairgal, and he employs me as his estate steward.”
“That’s rather an unusual arrangement, isn’t it? You have your own manor house, and yet you work for your uncle?”
He stared at her with his striking green gaze. “You clearly do believe in plain-speaking, Miss Gage.”
She winced. “Oh, dear. One should never ask questions about money or financial arrangements. Please forgive me. I don’t spend much time in company, so I’m not very adept at socializing.” Not especially with handsome young men with brawny shoulders and muscular thighs.
He gifted her with a smile that was no less charming for being reluctant. “I’m not very good at it either. I’d much rather spend my days working, and my nights by the fire with a good book or periodical.”
“Goodness, your life sounds almost as boring as mine. I don’t even get to work, unless you count embroidering endless tablecloths and kerchiefs as work.”
“My work, fortunately, keeps me busy. I have tenant farmers to deal with, and the estate keeps cattle and sheep. My uncle also owns a whiskey distillery and has several business interests in the city. I help him—and his heir, my cousin—with all of that.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound boring at all,” Georgie said. She could hardly imagine being so busy. “Do you enjoy the work?”
“I love it. I am truly blessed that my family values my efforts.”
“With your own manor house to take care of too, I wonder how you even manage it all.”
No wonder he was so thin. Now that she was close to him, he looked a little weary too. Fergus Haddon couldn’t be more than thirty, but there was something about him that suggested he carried too many burdens.
Georgie had the strangest notion that she could somehow help him, as absurd as that sounded.
He gazed down at the glass in his hand. “It is a lot, although not as much as it used to be. My cousin was away for many years, serving in the military. I stepped in to help my uncle during Alec’s absence. But he is home now, and is taking on more of the duties that come with managing the estate.”
“I suspect that you’re not entirely happy about that state of affairs, are you?” Georgie asked.
He looked at her, as if for the first time. “How did you guess?”
Because her situation with Eliza was similar, enough to give her that bit of insight. “It just makes sense, I suppose,” she said vaguely, not wanting to suggest any criticism of Bertie or her sister-in-law.
“Miss Gage, has anyone ever told you that you’re alarmingly perceptive?”
“Actually, yes.”
“And do people think it’s a good thing?” His tone of voice indicated that he couldn’t make up his mind.
She smiled. “I don’t think my brother is that keen on it.”
“I expect that brothers—especially older brothers—don’t relish the notion that their sisters might be smarter than they are.”
“Do you have sisters, Mr. Haddon?”
“I have one sister, a younger one.”
“Are you close?”
A wistful expression colored his gaze. “We are, though I don’t see her very often. Only a few times a year right now, and probably less in the future.”
“That sounds rather sad. Did she marry and move away?”
His shoulders went up a bit. “Ah, no. She entered a convent, up near Inverness. Once she takes her vows, I doubt we’ll have the chance to see her very much.”
