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and Ian held outhis arm to her. Hero took it with a sigh. “You’re impossible andyou shouldn’t encourage him.”

“Why not?”

“He’s Harold Arthur Phillip Ashburn, theeighth Duke of Beaumont,” Hero said with a frown. “He comes from along and distinguished lineage and now he’s been reduced to Harry.It’s simply wrong.”

“If it makes him happy, what is the matter?”Ian asked as he steered Hero across the terrace and down the longstone stairs to the lawns below while the duke trailed behind. Asthey moved away from the castle, Hero popped open her parasol andpositioned it to keep the sun off her face.

“I guess it’s no great matter, I suppose, ifhe allows you to call him by his given name,” she said at length,then added cheekily, “I should, however, prefer continuing toaddress him as I have my entire life.”

“Then patience, Hero,” Ian said with anengaging smile. “I’m sure he’ll have forgotten all about it in afew hours.”

“I suppose so. I hope you don’t mind if Papajoins us for our walk this morning. I thought the day too lovely tobe spent in the dungeons,” Hero continued as they arrived at theformal garden in the English style that spread itself on the wideexpanse of lawn that stretched out on the east side of the castle.When visitors approaching from the east broke through thetree-lined drive, the vista of the gardens with their low, precisehedges and the ornate reflection pool and fountain at their centerwould be backdropped by the glorious castle with its towers,turrets, and wings sprawling along the cliff side. It made a mightyimpression on newcomers.

“Not at all,” Ian answered. “On both counts,you made the right choice.”

“I’ve told him so much about Cuilean over theyears, I know he is anxious to see for himself,” Hero continued, asif she did not believe his assurance.

“He’d never been here before?”

“No, life’s business kept my family away, andMama preferred London to Scotland.”

“And yet, you do not.” It was a simplestatement but even after their long conversations the night before,he remained curious of her reasons.

Hero tilted her head in a thoughtful fashionand considered him with a smile that settled in her eyes. “Whywould I? London is filled with superficial society and frivolousendeavors. Dùn Cuilean feeds my soul. It has since the day Ayrfirst brought me here. I’ve never been anywhere else that I’ve feltsuch peace … and anticipation.”

“Anticipation? Of what?” he askedcuriously.

“I don’t know,” she responded vaguely, addinga self-conscious shrug. “I’ve just always sensed that something iswaiting to happen here. And how do you like Dùn Cuilean thus far,my lord?”

“I have been here but a month but I’ve foundit to be a most pleasant place.”

“Merely pleasant?”

“Have you a better description?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Hero’s mouth.“Many I’d consider more apt than pleasant.”

“In truth, I haven’t been here long enough toshake my awe.”

The news of his inheritance hadn’t reachedIan Conagham for several months after Robert Conagham’s death asthe laird’s executer searched for him, the only surviving male heirof the line. He had finally been located in Greece, where, as anofficer in the Queen’s army, Ian had been sent to fight in Crimea.The trip back had been long, taking Ian first to London to have thetitle conferred upon him and meet with the marquisate’s solicitors,then to Edinburgh for much of the same lauding, and finally to DùnCuilean just a month before.

“Awe?” Hero repeated with a chuckle. “Nowthat I can understand. It is quite awe-inspiring. The sight of thecastle silhouetted by the setting of the sun, the view of thecliffs …”

“That’s not quite what I meant,” Ian saidsoftly as she trailed off. “My awe is not merely for thevisual—though it is all as you have said. No, it is the scope ofthe estate that holds me in its wonder. It is so much more than thecastle itself. There are the parks, the woodlands, the orchards,the home farm, the mill, the herds. The gashouse and the icehouse.A dairy. Did you know there is a dairy? Cuilean is an enterprise ofcommerce. We buy very little but produce and sell so much. I am …was … nothing more than a simple soldier. I’ve never been aman of business before. Truthfully, I find the extent of my newresponsibilities somewhat daunting.”

Chapter Ten

Hero stared up at Ian, taken aback by hishonesty. There wasn’t a male of her acquaintance whom she couldimagine expressing doubt in his abilities or admitting to ashortcoming so vocally, for fear of being thought less of. Whilethere was no doubt in her mind that Ian would learn the business ofthe estate handily—and honestly, education on the business of itsoperation was probably all he was wanting—it took a confident manto admit that he wasn’t all knowing. Hero found his admissionperhaps more endearing than she should.

After all, he wasn’t a man lacking inintelligence. She had found him to be a very knowledgeableconversationalist. He was well read and educated. What he neededwas someone to school him on the workings of the estate. Cuilean’ssteward, Jennings, was an excellent manager but a man who preferredto simply do rather than take the time to explain to another how todo it himself or why it was done in such a way.

She could teach him, Hero thought, glancingup at Ian through her lashes. It would be simple to make the offerand she was inclined to think that he would appreciate anyassistance offered even from a woman. But what if he did not? Somemen didn’t like women of intelligence. While she knew Ianappreciated a witty conversation, he might not find business acumenas desirable a quality in a woman—and she did want to appeal tohim.

Hero took a breath, pausing as if to admirethe gothic fountain at the hub of the low maze of hedges. There wasmuch to dare in making the offer but she wanted to help him if shecould. Beaumont turned and began to pace away once more, and theyfollowed. Deciding it might be better to begin as she meant to moveforward, Hero gathered the nerve to make her offer. Should he growto care for her,

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