“Everyone, this is Ms. Jamison, our guest for the weekend. Willa Mae, this is my mother, the Countess of Ayesthorpe. Mother, meet Willa Mae Jamison of Creative Legacies Property Management Group in New York.”
Willa Mae stepped forward and waited until the countess extended a hand before reaching out to shake hands.
“It’s my pleasure to meet you, your ladyship,” she said, doing her best to maintain a proper form of address. She didn’t know too much about Scottish nobility, but she assumed their titles were similar to those of their English cousins. At least it had seemed so from the little she had gleaned from her boss’s notes and from Google. It couldn’t hurt to call the woman ‘Lady’, even if her son eschewed his title.
“Welcome to Bannock Castle, Ms. Jamison,” the older woman said, drawing out the ‘z’ in ‘Ms.’ with a condescending expression. “My son tells me you are to help bring us into the twenty-first century.”
Her words were innocuous enough, but her tone was biting, as though what she really wanted to say was something else, something that left a nasty taste in her mouth. Willa Mae chose her response carefully, recognizing at once that she had an adversary in Niall’s mother.
“I’ve come at his lordship’s request to work with him on a plan to prepare the castle for a more prosperous future as a local if unofficial heritage site, ma’am.”
Before his mother could reply, Niall guided Willa Mae with a hand at her back to the other occupants of the room. She did her best to ignore the shock of his touch that made her tremble with an unexpected heat. Inhaling to calm her quivering nerves, she smiled politely at the young man and woman who stared at her, their expressions openly amused, as though she were the butt of some joke that only they were privy to.
“My siblings, Angus and Alison, who live here in the castle.”
Again, Willa Mae waited, and when neither extended a hand, she decided that she would avoid the family as much as she could. She didn’t think she would be able to hold her tongue in the face of such rudeness otherwise. Would she be able to take her meals alone? Or perhaps she could ask to eat with the servants, since that’s what it seemed that these people thought she was. She turned her eyes away from them, her face unsmiling, and said, suddenly needing some time to herself,
“If you don’t mind, your lordship, I would really appreciate being shown to my room. It’s been a rather long flight, and there’s a lot to be done before I leave on Sunday. If it’s not too much trouble?”
She hoped her voice was sufficiently respectful, though she knew Niall didn’t care.
“Certainly. I’ll have Andrews bring up something for you to snack on before dinner. Can you be ready to leave in a couple of hours? We can take in some of the village before the dinner hour.”
“I’ll be ready. Thank you.”
She turned and walked back to the door, not looking at the three people whose hostility she could feel like daggers piercing her back. She walked out, head held high, and only breathed when she was at the foot of the stairs. Andrews appeared just then with a tray laden with tea things.
“Ms. Jamison is going up for a rest, Andrews. Please see to it that she has a tray brought up to her.”
“Yes, my lord. The countess has put her in the blue room, sir.”
Andrews seemed uncomfortable as he relayed that information. Something hot flashed in Niall’s eyes, but it disappeared almost instantly.
“Thank you, Andrews. I’ll deal with it.”
“Yes sir. Will you be rejoining the family for tea?”
“Yes. But we will not be here for dinner. Have Mrs. Reid prepare the meal for the others alone.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Willa Mae didn’t miss Andrews’ smug smile as he continued on his way to the drawing room, and she wondered exactly what kind of shit show she had walked into. Her boss had not given her any information about the family dynamics, but he seemed to have been well treated, when he was there. Of course, he wasn’t a small black woman, so his chances of acceptance were exponentially greater than hers, she supposed. She couldn’t let other people’s response to her affect her performance of her job, though. She would trust Niall to help her weather what was sure to be a stormy weekend in Bannock Castle.
Chapter 2: Hurdles
“That was incredibly rude of your guest, Niall,” Angus drawled as Niall walked back into the drawing room.
“No more than you both not extending a hand of welcome to a visitor in our home,” he snapped back, enraged. “It must have been pretty clear to her that she was as welcome here as mold, both from your rudeness and your tone.” He looked over at his mother as he spoke, and she turned her eyes down to the cup of tea she held in her hands. “Ms. Jamison is a guest here for the weekend, and is likely to return over the course of the renovation process. You don’t have to like what I have planned for the estate, but you do have to pretend that you have the manners of a commoner between the three of you!”
His mother bristled. “How dare you! Watch your tone with me, young man!”
Niall sneered. “Or what, Mother? You’ll take away my allowance? Kick me out of the house? Force me to live on my own like an adult?”
His twin siblings both had the grace to blush at his angry words. Neither of them had ever lived a day of their twenty-six years outside of Bannock Castle, supported by their only remaining parent, despite both having advanced degrees from university. Niall only stayed in the castle when there was business to be done, as now, or when there were official functions at which he, as the sitting earl, was expected to be present. He preferred his own private residence at Barrowwood Hall, a stately manor closer to Edinburgh.
His mother sniffed. “There was no call for that remark, Niall,” she said, but there was little heat in her words. She clearly knew what he thought of her enabling of her younger children’s behavior.
“I’ll ensure that Ms. Jamison is present at breakfast tomorrow morning, so that she can bring you up to speed on the plans for the estate going forward. But for the rest of her stay, if she chooses to have her meals elsewhere, and to interact with you all as little as possible, I’ll see to it that she gets her wish. I wouldn’t want to have to spend time with ill-mannered people, either. Particularly in a place that’s expecting to attract paying visitors.”
“She’s not a paying visitor, though, is she?” Angus sneered.
“She is my guest. I am paying for her stay. You would do well to remember that.”
The further reminder that he had no earned money of his own clearly angered Angus, but aside from his color deepening, so that he looked rather like a lobster, he did not react to his brother’s taunt.
Niall helped himself to a cup of tea and took one of the delicate sandwiches from the plate, devouring it in two bites. He ate another and finished his tea, all while standing at the window that looked out onto one of the estate’s formal gardens. He felt on edge, off kilter, and he knew it had to do with more than just his anger with his family. Meeting Willa Mae Jamison had done something to his internal systems, and he felt as off balance as a baby just taking his first steps.
Niall had met many beautiful women in his time. He had played with almost all of them. But he knew the moment Willa Mae introduced herself to him that there was just something different about her. Her beauty was the exotic kind so rarely seen in Scotland…a warm, dusky skin tone that glowed and beckoned him to her. When she had smiled at him that first time, his pulse had kicked up a notch. She was a woman of average height, though he had to admit that next to him she seemed shorter than she was. Her brown skin tone were a stark and seductive contrast to his fair one. Her body was deliciously curved, her oval face blessed with high cheekbones, long, dark lashes, and a lush mouth. She was breathtakingly beautiful to him, and he couldn’t seem to find a steady leg to stand on when she was near.
He knew that part of his family’s initial response to her stemmed from the shock of having an African American woman stay at the castle. It didn�
��t help their narrow-mindedness that she was also a highly successful businesswoman in her own right. It wouldn’t have escaped any of them that she was an independent woman working in a career that gave her opportunities to travel and see the world. His siblings traveled extensively, but not on their own dime. Willa Mae must therefore be an embarrassment to them, making her doubly disliked. Add to all that her reason for being there, and the deck was firmly stacked against her as far as his family was concerned.
Still, he was determined to go through with his plan to renovate and upgrade the castle while keeping its authentic lines. It would reopen in six months as a guest house for people who wanted to explore Scotland at a reasonable rate without having to sacrifice luxury and comfort. His family wanted none of it, preferring to keep it drafty and dark, because “it all adds character and charm, Niall”. They would only willingly agree to a fresh coat of paint, a sprucing up of the guest rooms, and the replacement of some infrastructure, such as ancient and malfunctioning bathrooms and the equipment in the kitchen.
“Have you told Ms. Jamison of our wishes with regard to the castle’s renovation?” his mother demanded suddenly.
“She has been apprised of everything relating to our plans. I’ll be giving her a tour of the house and grounds tomorrow, and she has my permission to take pictures everywhere but your living spaces.”
Niall knew he had to make it clear that Willa Mae had his permission to take photographs, or his brother, in particular, would make it his business to impede her at every turn. Sometimes he wondered what he had done to be saddled with a family like his. During such times, he wished his father were still alive. The old man would have been more than a match for all of them, and Niall would have had him as a stalwart ally.
“I hope she will be receptive to them,” his mother continued, sipping her tea.
“Ms. Jamison is here to provide us with the best possible advice for making a go of this venture, so we don’t keep losing money. It’s time we turned a profit.”
“Your ancestor didn’t acquire this castle to make money off it, Niall,” the countess reminded him waspishly, taking another aggravated sip of tea.
“My ancestor didn’t live in a centuries-old castle that was crumbling around his ears, either.” Niall’s response was as snappish as his mother’s had been. “He also had servants to keep it in trim shape. We don’t. Those days are over, and if you expect to keep this castle as a monument to some long-forgotten traditions, you’ll allow Ms. Jamison to do everything she can to make it a viable operation.”
“I don't see how any good can come from people trampling all over our home,” she insisted in a hog-pitched voice. “Don’t you agree, children?”
“We do need the money, Mama,” Angus said. “But I understand your reluctance to let strangers into our home. Perhaps Ms. Jamison will see it our way and keep the changes to a minimum, after all.”
“That would be for the best all round, I’m sure,” Alison chimed in, her tone conciliatory.
Niall had had enough of the conversation. He knew that his mother would adamantly oppose any improvements that would make the castle an open asset to the village, despite the potential for making a lot of money from it. She wanted the castle to remain as some kind of bastion to the gentility that only she clung to so desperately. She wanted her titles and her status to remain untouched by the realities of a home in desperate need of modernizing and a non-existent family fortune.
He sighed. He hadn’t told anyone that it was his wealth that was keeping the castle afloat. His speculations in property in Scotland and abroad had helped him amass a large independent fortune, which he used to supplement the meager income brought in from infrequent tourist visits to the castle. For the moment, he would keep that knowledge to himself. He knew his mother would try every machination she could imagine to stop his plans. But she had forgotten who she was dealing with. Niall had never been one to abide by the rules and laws of others except where they were of benefit to him. Anyone who crossed him found out soon enough that it was a bad idea to do so. He prayed his mother would relent before he had to pull out the big guns.
“I have some calls to make, and then I’ll be taking Ms. Jamison out for the evening. I’ll see you all at breakfast.”
Nodding curtly to his mother, he ignored his siblings and found Andrews waiting for him at his study door.
“What would you like me to do about Ms. Jamison’s accommodations, Mr. Niall?” he inquired.
“Put her in the suite next to mine, Andrews,” he said. “That suite is always ready for family, so the housekeeper won’t have to go to the trouble of preparing another room from scratch.”
“As you wish, sir. The lady is asleep now…when I took her tray up to her, I found her door ajar and herself sprawled quite delightfully across the bed, sound asleep.”
Andrews grinned, and the sight made Niall laugh softly. “I’m sure a trans-Atlantic flight is tiring, especially if she had been working flat out before she got on the plane. I’ll wake her in a while. Be ready to move her things as soon as we leave. Please have Mrs. Reid prepare a light supper before she leaves, so Ms. Jamison can have something before bed.”
“Understood, sir.”
After Andrews left, Niall made a few calls. He had a couple of business partners whom he was courting to bring in to work with him on the castle upgrades. He was prepared to give them a share of the profits, and they were currently negotiating terms. The men had been his friends since his undergraduate days, and he knew he could trust them. By the time he had set up meetings with each man, one in London, the other in New York, it was time to wake Willa Mae. As he climbed the stairs, his thoughts returned to Andrews’ description of her sprawled across the bed asleep. The idea made his heart skip a beat. What would he see when he went up?
He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Although Andrews had closed the door, preserving her privacy, Niall barely knocked before turning the handle and pushing it open. Willa Mae was still asleep. Niall didn’t know how she had been lying before he got there, but now she was on her side, one arm tucked beneath her head, the other curved across her chest. Her lips were slightly parted, and a soft snore stole from between them before she closed them. Her slacks would be wrinkled when she woke, and the silk blouse covering her upper body would also be worse for wear. Her hips and breasts drew his gaze, and he looked away, swallowing and inhaling deeply to stop his body from hardening at the sight.
“Willa Mae! Wake up! It’s almost time to go.”
Niall forced himself to wake her, so he would have to stop his intense scrutiny of her face and body. He watched her come to consciousness and raise sleepy eyes to his face. It took her only a couple of seconds to remember where she was, and she sat up hurriedly, the material of her blouse sliding down over her breasts while the slacks bunched ups around her hips. Niall tightened all his muscles to stop his body from reacting.
“What are you doing here?’ she demanded, her voice husky with sleep.
“Waking you. We have a date, remember?”
He would need to keep his distance from her if he was to retain any kind of control around her. Better to tease her, to irritate her, to get her testy with him than to continue down a road that would end with her in his bed. While it would be a sweet thing to have the beauty before him under him instead, theirs was a business relationship, and he couldn’t allow anything to get in the way of his plans. Especially not an unwanted attraction to a woman who would be gone again in two days.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she said, sliding to the edge of the bed and standing up.
“Bring a cardigan with you. It can get a might nippy in the evenings.”
Niall turned and walked out before he gave in to the urge to pull her round body flush with his. He went to his suite and took a quick shower, changing into blue jeans, a button-down shirt, and slid his feet into black loafers. Swinging his leather jacket over his shoulder, he walked down to the foyer and found Andrew
s waiting.
“I assumed you’d want the roadster this evening, Mr. Niall,” he said with a knowing smirk.
Niall chuckled. Sometimes he wondered what he’d do without the man who could read him like a book.
“Thanks, Andrews. I hope it won’t be too cool to ride with the top down for a while.”
“I took the liberty of placing a blanket in the back, sir, in the event it becomes needed.”
Another knowing look had Niall stifling a full blown laugh. “I cannot afford to be remiss in my behavior, Andrews. Ms. Jamison is here on business.”
“So, no hanky panky, my lord?” Now Andrews’ tone was openly mocking.
“Precisely. I’ll have to be on my best behavior.”
“I can only wish you the very best of luck with that, sir,” he quipped. “Because Ms. Jamison is quite an attractive woman.”
“I see you noticed that as well,” Niall retorted.
Scottish Swag Page 2