Chapter 29

"He's remarkably well trained," the girl said. "Will he let me put him in the stall?"
"In a moment. The light's better out here." Colin sank down onto a hay bale and whistled again, which brought Jupiter immediately to his side. The young woman stepped back, giving Colin room to check the stallion's rear legs for damage. Finding none, he breathed a sigh of relief. "He's fine."
"Thank heavens. I tried to tell you not to cross the bridge, you know." The maid approached Jupiter with a carrot held flat in the palm of her hand.
"You know how to make friends with horses," Colin said. "Why aren't there any in here?" The stable was eerily quiet.
"We only have the one and he's with the children," she said.
"One horse, one groom... Does the MacLeish family even live here? Or do they keep a house in Edinburgh or somewhere?"
"No, this is our home," she said with a sigh as she gingerly took hold of Jupiter's reins to lead him to a stall. Then her voice turned acidic. "And if you are indeed Lord Bruxton, then you should know we don't have the money for any such thing."
"What?" Colin started to stand to respond to her face to face, but his head was not cooperating. "I saw the bank drafts myself. My cousin has paid out a small fortune to this household every quarter."
"Cousin? So you're not Bruxton?" Her chestnut head with its ugly bonnet askew poked out of the stall.
"I am now," he corrected. Why was he having this conversation with a servant, anyway?
She struggled under the weight of Jupiter's saddle as she carried it from the stall. With her eyes firmly averted from Colin, she set the saddle onto a sawhorse then marched back into the stall, spine ramrod straight. The girl would have made a fine sergeant, he thought absently.
"What is your name?" he finally asked as he heard her speaking softly to Jupiter while removing the bridle.
"Augusta," she answered coldly. "Miss Augusta MacLeish." Returning from the stall, she hung the bridle on a peg, then filled a bucket with oats from a nearby barrel and disappeared again.
Augusta MacLeish? Well that explained what had been bothering him about her speech. It was as educated as his own, even if it did have a soft hint of a Scottish burr. But it made no sense. This was the harridan who had sent letter after letter haranguing the old earl for more money? And she dressed no better than a servant? What the hell was going on in this place?
"Oh, hell." A bad feeling formed in the pit of Colin's stomach. He'd known damn it, that his cousin Edward was a liar and a cheat. Why hadn't he considered that possibility here?
"Apt." Miss MacLeish picked up a wooden bucket and left the stable. Colin heard the sound of a hand pump, then she returned and lugged the water into Jupiter's stall. Moments later she plopped down on a hay bale across from him. "I'll brush him in a moment." Retrieving a handkerchief from a pocket, she removed her bonnet and wiped her brow, which was shiny with perspiration. "It's a long walk to and from the village, you know."
What did that have to do with anything? Then Colin remembered the basket she'd dropped and the fact that she'd crossed the bridge just as he'd rounded the bend in the road. "Oh, hell," he said again. "Sorry."
Miss MacLeish scowled, unbuttoned her pelisse and slipped it off. The sprigged muslin dress beneath was, if possible, even shabbier. "If you'd paid attention, you wouldn't have been hurt. I heard the board start to go when I came across. I'd have let down the drawbridge for you if you'd given me a moment."
He raised one eyebrow and hid a grin when she flushed.
"Well, I would have eventually." Her wide brown eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Why have you come here?"
"To see for myself what was going on. According to my predecessor's solicitor, you have received a very generous quarterly allowance and yet there was a pile of letters from you begging for or simply demanding further funds."
"The solicitor lied," she said flatly. "The allowance we were sent has been a joke. Without the money Margaret and I make selling eggs, we'd have starved."
"Margaret?"
"Our housekeeper, though since she hasn't been paid in two years, I suppose the term is inaccurate. Benefactor, perhaps. She and her husband Thomas are all that's left of the staff."
"And where is she?"
"Also gone with the children. She acts as governess when needed. Besides, her sister is Lady Carter's cook, so it gives them the opportunity to visit."
"And leaves you all alone? Why aren't you with them?"
She shrugged. "A number of reasons, not the least of which is a lack of suitable clothing for a house party. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll finish seeing to your horse, so we can then go inside while I make our supper."
Colin subsided, frowning at her back as she walked away. Every gentlemanly instinct he possessed urged him to get up and take care of Jupiter himself, but the moment he tried to stand unaided, his stomach churned and he was immediately afraid of falling back down.
What the devil was he going to do about this mess? Replacing the funds would be the easy part. While Colin's father had been the cadet branch of the Bruxton line, he'd also been the one who married money. Colin had a knack for investments and had added to that fortune considerably. The coffers of the earldom had never been fatter. But even with an appropriate income, leaving four children out here in the middle of nowhere with just one young woman to look after them bordered on criminal. Miss MacLeish - Augusta - couldn't be much over twenty herself - twenty-two, if his memory served correctly - still well within marriageable age and the daughter of a viscount. She should be in London, shopping and preparing for the Season. Not stuck in a castle that could fall down around her ears at any moment. And damn it all, they were his responsibility.