generations.”
“Like Vandemere,” Daisy said.
“Exactly,” Mr. Beebs concurred.
“You appear to have a perfectly lovely reason to vacate the Keep.” Daisy grinned.
Mr. Beebs chuckled. “I suppose it is. So do hold your hunt party here, and enjoy yourselves. I would quite like a bird-watching holiday as it is. I’ll be back in less than two weeks’ time. In fact”—he looked around at the beautiful vista—“I’ll leave right after this walk. There’s a black-throated diver I’d like to find first.” He looked upward at the tops of the trees, then gave a small, elegant bow. “Your servant, Miss Montgomery. Lord Lumley.”
And he began to traipse off.
“Shall we tell Miss Cassandra you said good-bye?” she called after him.
He turned and swallowed rather hard. “I suppose you could.”
He took a few steps.
“So may we work with what servants you have here and bring our own, as well?” Daisy added.
“Indeed.” He inclined his head graciously. “We’ve plenty of room in the stables, too, for at least a dozen horses.”
“Very good,” Daisy said.
How generous of him!
She got a grand idea.
“Mr. Beebs”—she screwed up her nerve—“you’ve been so kind. Perhaps you’ll find it in your heart not to require a feu duty this year? Or any year, really, as my family has been paying it for nearly a hundred years? That way we can use all the money we make from our Highland adventure to fix up Castle Vandemere. Wouldn’t it be nice if when people arrive at the village, they’ll look up Ben Fennon and see both castles looking marvelous?”
“Sorry, Miss Montgomery,” Mr. Beebs said in jolly fashion. “The feu duty is due, as always, on the first of July, and not a day later. I don’t want to have to throw you out.”
“No,” she said weakly.
“There are plenty of people standing in line who’d love to take possession of Castle Vandemere,” he called back to her.
“Are there?” She could barely speak.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “At least three that I know of. Lady Brompton of Nob, Mr. Finch of Trickle Top, and Baron van Bunting, of Lower Cross Junction—none of them as interesting as Vandemere’s current occupants.”
“Damn the feudal system and feudal lairds,” Daisy said under her breath to the viscount. “The castle should belong outright to our family by now.”
“Oh,” Mr. Beebs went on, “and if you’re looking for wealthy travelers to stay here, a few of my bird-watcher friends are in Lower Cross Junction. They’re here for the bird-watching symposium, but it ends tomorrow, so they’ll be at loose ends, all with money in their pockets and seeking diversion. Some are thinking about staying for the theater festival. Others are going to a big society wedding in Inverness. But loads of them will be twiddling their thumbs, dreading their trips back home and seeking ways to delay them.”
“How—how do you know all this?” Daisy couldn’t help asking.
“I write the social column for the Royal Society Bird-watching Journal, of course. I’ll stop by Lower Cross Junction on my way out. I’ll bring you back a half-dozen well-heeled visitors. What will you be charging?”
“Thirty pounds each for a ten-day stay at the Keep, a complete Highland experience,” said Daisy.
That was an exorbitant amount!
The viscount stood with his legs apart and his hands on his hips. “How rich are these people?” he asked Mr. Beebs.
“Very.” Mr. Beebs scratched his ear. “A few will bring bodyguards. They carry that many valuables.”
“Let’s make it fifty pounds each, then,” said the viscount.
Fifty pounds?
“Right.” Mr. Beebs chuckled. “I’ve no doubt I’ll be able to get it, too.”
“Are you sure?” Daisy plucked at her skirt. “The viscount was going to head to Brawton to invite some anglers he knows are there.”
“Don’t bother. Brawton’s on my way. I’ll stop for you myself.”
“Thank you,” Charlie said. “Another half-dozen
“Like Vandemere,” Daisy said.
“Exactly,” Mr. Beebs concurred.
“You appear to have a perfectly lovely reason to vacate the Keep.” Daisy grinned.
Mr. Beebs chuckled. “I suppose it is. So do hold your hunt party here, and enjoy yourselves. I would quite like a bird-watching holiday as it is. I’ll be back in less than two weeks’ time. In fact”—he looked around at the beautiful vista—“I’ll leave right after this walk. There’s a black-throated diver I’d like to find first.” He looked upward at the tops of the trees, then gave a small, elegant bow. “Your servant, Miss Montgomery. Lord Lumley.”
And he began to traipse off.
“Shall we tell Miss Cassandra you said good-bye?” she called after him.
He turned and swallowed rather hard. “I suppose you could.”
He took a few steps.
“So may we work with what servants you have here and bring our own, as well?” Daisy added.
“Indeed.” He inclined his head graciously. “We’ve plenty of room in the stables, too, for at least a dozen horses.”
“Very good,” Daisy said.
How generous of him!
She got a grand idea.
“Mr. Beebs”—she screwed up her nerve—“you’ve been so kind. Perhaps you’ll find it in your heart not to require a feu duty this year? Or any year, really, as my family has been paying it for nearly a hundred years? That way we can use all the money we make from our Highland adventure to fix up Castle Vandemere. Wouldn’t it be nice if when people arrive at the village, they’ll look up Ben Fennon and see both castles looking marvelous?”
“Sorry, Miss Montgomery,” Mr. Beebs said in jolly fashion. “The feu duty is due, as always, on the first of July, and not a day later. I don’t want to have to throw you out.”
“No,” she said weakly.
“There are plenty of people standing in line who’d love to take possession of Castle Vandemere,” he called back to her.
“Are there?” She could barely speak.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “At least three that I know of. Lady Brompton of Nob, Mr. Finch of Trickle Top, and Baron van Bunting, of Lower Cross Junction—none of them as interesting as Vandemere’s current occupants.”
“Damn the feudal system and feudal lairds,” Daisy said under her breath to the viscount. “The castle should belong outright to our family by now.”
“Oh,” Mr. Beebs went on, “and if you’re looking for wealthy travelers to stay here, a few of my bird-watcher friends are in Lower Cross Junction. They’re here for the bird-watching symposium, but it ends tomorrow, so they’ll be at loose ends, all with money in their pockets and seeking diversion. Some are thinking about staying for the theater festival. Others are going to a big society wedding in Inverness. But loads of them will be twiddling their thumbs, dreading their trips back home and seeking ways to delay them.”
“How—how do you know all this?” Daisy couldn’t help asking.
“I write the social column for the Royal Society Bird-watching Journal, of course. I’ll stop by Lower Cross Junction on my way out. I’ll bring you back a half-dozen well-heeled visitors. What will you be charging?”
“Thirty pounds each for a ten-day stay at the Keep, a complete Highland experience,” said Daisy.
That was an exorbitant amount!
The viscount stood with his legs apart and his hands on his hips. “How rich are these people?” he asked Mr. Beebs.
“Very.” Mr. Beebs scratched his ear. “A few will bring bodyguards. They carry that many valuables.”
“Let’s make it fifty pounds each, then,” said the viscount.
Fifty pounds?
“Right.” Mr. Beebs chuckled. “I’ve no doubt I’ll be able to get it, too.”
“Are you sure?” Daisy plucked at her skirt. “The viscount was going to head to Brawton to invite some anglers he knows are there.”
“Don’t bother. Brawton’s on my way. I’ll stop for you myself.”
“Thank you,” Charlie said. “Another half-dozen
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