Leaning out the door of his quarters, he called out into the hall again for the old servant. Charles’ appearance was sudden and silent. There was no familiarity or greeting between the two men.
“Did you hire the cook?”
“Aye,” Charles mumbled, entering the bed chamber.
“Good. The place is a mess!” Alex snapped, pulling a shirt from his bag. “How can I receive the new owners of the manor if the manor looks as unlived in and as uncared for as the moor? What have you been doing all this time?”
“’Tis a lot for an old man alone ta be do’n sir. The lack of furnishin’s gives the manor a drear’ look.” Charles eyed Alex in accusation, and Alex glared back, daring the old man to continue. Charles chose not to, and simply asked, “Will I be hirin’ lassies fro’ the clachan for a daily wage ta get the place in order?”
That’ll mean spending more money, Alex deduced before answering. But he had to make a good first impression. If the heiresses considered him dependable in his handling of the manor, they might leave all things as they were in the shipping business… in his hands.
“Go,” he replied with urgency, “fetch the help you need. The women will be arriving late this afternoon, and if you don’t want to sleep in the barn, all better be made ready real soon.”
Wordlessly, Charles retreated down the hall, his light steps making little noise.
“And get my bed chamber cleaned up!” Alex called after him. “It looks like rats live here!”
“They do,” the servant snipped in a hoarse whisper and continued his retreat.
* * *
Wistmere could be seen long before the carriage rolled past its brier-covered stone walls and through its rusted gates. Katherine’s dream of the “castle” that lay beyond the cottage she lived in as a child faded with each stride of the horses. She hadn’t expected a magnificent citadel, yet she was unprepared for the sight that greeted her. It had been more than a dozen years since she had been here. The immense structure stood lifeless and unwelcoming. Its merlons were broken and chipped, and resembled a hideous mouth frozen in time. The walls and even the windows were cloaked with ancient ivy. She wondered how much sunlight could get through to brighten the inside of the manor. She looked at the grounds. Thickset bushes, now too old to f1ower, crowded the walkways, and decayed branches fallen from unpruned trees lay entombed in what was once a lush and well-kept lawn. Katherine viewed Wistmere with dismay.
“Let me see!” Gripping the hand strap, May-Jewel leaned her head out the window to get her first look at her new home. She couldn’t believe that she was the mistress of such a great house! She considered her new dwelling as a seat of power, one of grandeur and of stately grace. She smiled to herself, imagining magnificent balls and formal teas given there in her honor. She saw the same decay and disrepair that Katherine saw but, in her naiveté, she viewed it all as romantic and full of potential.
The matching grey horses guided the carriage up the driveway, into the courtyard, and stopped before the manor house.
Opening the carriage’s door, he said, “Welcome to Wistmere. I’m Alexander Fleming, Robert’s… your father’s partner.”
A rebellious lock of sandy hair fell forward as he executed a bow. Then he stood proud, straight, and proper. He stared at the new owners of the manor and smiled, pleased over their youthfulness. Neal hadn’t informed him of their ages. How fortunate! Half-grown women are much easier to handle. For a moment he looked at Katherine’s stern features as she exited the couch. He saw in her green eyes a flash of challenge and found her almost alluring. Then he reminded himself that she was only half Scottish. He knew all about her foreign mother. Dealing with foreigners were a part of his work as a partner in the shipping lines, lines that greedily stretched to tropic islands, rich in spices and exotic women. But for Sir Robert to bring a foreigner to the estate and to have a child by her but not marry her seemed a strange act for an aristocrat. No, Alexander thought not for the first time, not strange, but somewhat unholy. He quickly nodded at Miss St. Pierre.
It was this man’s only greeting to Katherine. She was usually annoyed by the polite coldness of people when she first met them. Too many times she heard their proper words of greeting but would see in their eyes a contempt for her. But in Alexander Fleming’s case, she made the instant decision to ignore his restrained acknowledgment of her.
With expressed pleasure, Alexander beheld the other woman as she stepped out of the carriage. He mused that here, indeed, was one who had the look of refinement. Deeply gazing at his own narcissistic image in May-Jewel’s eyes, he noted a trace of avariciousness and vanity that made him smile. Yes, he decided, my dealings will be with this one. Such femininity should be rewarded with trinkets, bobbles and words of flattery. It’s the proven way to earn a woman’s loyalty, no matter what age. He smiled as the woman artfully moistened her lips, making them look fuller. She returned his smile as if she was unable to hide her delight at Alexander’s blue-grey eyes and his neat appearance.
Katherine frowned at the exchange. Just like a man! He’s unable to see beyond his nose when a pretty, empty head is before him. He looks at her as if he’s eyeing a ripe plum. And he might well be. Her half-sister’s light, silvery voice broke the silence.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mister Fleming.” May-Jewel slipped her gloved hand into
