“Your lordship?” He turned and looked at Billy. The young man, William Sheets, had been with him since he’d had the renovations started on the castle and the keep surrounding it. “I’ve been looking around, and I don’t think there is a single thing out of place. Mayhap you need me to do something else?”
“No. You have the plans, correct?” He showed him that he had them. “Good. You just keep things like it says in the book there and we’ll have the best decorated castle in the world. Don’t you think?”
Billy grinned at him, then walked away. He had been born with a disability, but it hadn’t stopped him from being a great person. Every time he saw Billy’s mother, when she’d come to get her son or just to drop him off, Duncan would tell her what a wonderful job she’d done in raising him. He was not just a joy to be around, he took his work seriously.
Going back to his office, he started looking over some of the paperwork from the last few days. Duncan needed to get some work done, or he’d not have things finished up in the coming year. Excitement was making him lazy, he thought with a grin.
Not only did he run several businesses, but Duncan also had an exceptionally good portfolio. His mom, in seeing the future, had told him what to buy and how much it would be worth. Even without the stash his mom had left him, Duncan made enough money on other ventures that he was able to not touch the gems and gold and live on what he made now.
Deep in thought of what he was reading, when his phone rang, he picked it up without looking at the caller identification. As soon as he heard the heavy breathing on the other end, he closed his eyes and waited for the man to start spewing his rhetoric to him.
“If one of them damned kids comes anywhere near my property, I’m going to shoot first, then I’m going to sue you. I told you when you got that stupid idea in your head, I wasn’t going to tolerate it.” Duncan said nothing. “You hear me, young man? I’m not joking with you at all. I see one foot on my side—”
“I have six thousand acres here, Mr. Bloom. I’m willing to bet my life on the fact that not one person will step anywhere close to your place.” Mr. Bloom had been a pain in his backside from the moment Duncan had started renovating the castle to its original form. Bloom told him he’d be keeping an eye on it. “You do that. In the meantime, Merry Christmas, you old goat.” Duncan then hung up.
Normally he would never have spoken to a human like he had with Mr. Bloom. But there were times when Duncan despaired of ever having the man just relax on his side of the property line. He’d even invited the grouch over for the party, and he’d heard an earful about that too. Christ, there just wasn’t any way to please the buzzard.
At almost midnight, Duncan got up to stretch. He didn’t need to sleep, so he would roam the halls late at night and make plans. He had always thought he had the best ideas when he was the only one around. Stopping in front of the large painting of his parents, Duncan wondered what his mother had been thinking when she’d had to sit so close to his sire.
The painter had captured his mother’s pain quite well. The hand on her shoulder, the one his sire had put on her, was clenched deeply into Mom’s flesh. Duncan always wondered if Mom had been bruised by the grip at her shoulder. Knowing it would have been something she carried for at least a few hours made him hate his sire all the more. Duncan had heard all the stories about his sire and was glad he’d died before he was born.
The next row of paintings brought him to the grandparents. Lord and Lady Beswick had been his mother’s parents. He knew a little about them, but not too much. Duncan also thought they were still alive someplace. If only, he thought, if only I could contact them and let them know I am alive and well.
Just as he was turning from the painting, something moved at the corner of his eye. Duncan turned in that direction slowly. Whatever it had been, or in this case whoever it had been, was still standing in the long hall in front of the very picture he had been looking at. When the specter smiled at him, his knees simply went out on him, and he fell to his ass.
“Mom?” She nodded at him, then pointed to her parents. “What are you...? How are you here?”
“I visit you on occasion. I thought today of all days I’d speak to you, son. I wish for you to find them—your grandparents on my side. They are alive and have been living poorly in a ramshackle place. You need to find them. Bring them here.” He said he would. “I mean, for the wedding. I would like for you and Jude to find them and bring them here for the wedding. You know just where they are, Duncan. We visited them there when you and Mary and I went on a little adventure.”
“The cottage?” She moved closer to him as she nodded. “Mom, if you’ve been here before, why haven’t you ever let me see you? I would have given anything to have seen you. I’ve missed you every day I’ve been alone.”
“You talk to me. That has been enough—for now, at least. Mercy will tell you great stories about me, but do not let her be sad. She’s hard enough to live around, I would think, without her being all sad and despondent. She is and always will be the best person I know to
