Heirly Ever After - Vernon, Magan (pdf ebook reader .txt) 📗

back down. I had to find information on the MacWebleys’ claim. As I finished getting ready, I tried to think how the hell I was going to get those documents from the library.

The maid came to the door to announce it was time for dinner, right as the loud grandfather clock down the hall chimed. Nodding to the maid, I adjusted my cufflinks to keep my hands from shaking. The well-worn gold pieces were engraved with the MacWebley family crest. They were my grandfather’s and my great-grandfather’s and his father’s before him.

If I wanted to keep the MacWebley family name alive, this night had to go well.

I vowed to honor my family, but even as I strode down the long hallway toward the dining room, there was still a nagging feeling in the back of my mind. What would happen to Madison and her family? I didn’t know their situation, but according to the little hints I’d gotten from her, things weren’t the best back in America for them.

Well, things weren’t the best for the MacWebleys, either.

I just had to find a way to make it so she wasn’t hurt in this process.

Easy as a Victorian sponge.

I hoped.

Once I reached the dining hall, I had to rein in my emotions.

I’d heard stories of lavish dinners at our home in Scotland, and I vaguely remembered some Christmas Eve celebrations with dancing and lots of women in frilly gowns mingling around the room. But that seemed like so long ago. These days no one entered what Mother used to call the grand hall. All the tables and chairs had been sold, the room going into disrepair like the rest of the home.

The Webleys, of course, had their home fancied to immaculate proportions.

The gilded oak doors opened to the hallway as the faint sounds of music streamed outward. I stopped just short of the maid announcing me. Inside awaited a live string quartet playing softly to one side, and a large dining table filled with golden candelabras dominated the center. But there was one thing that had me standing at attention.

No, not a thing.

A beautiful damsel.

The crystal chandelier caught the setting sun and cast a warm beacon of light over the soft red waves of her hair.

Last I saw my wedding date, she’d been covered in sugar and water.

Now…

Madison was as radiant as the sun, her eyes wide and lined with a smoky shadow, her gorgeous red mane landing at her shoulders and spilling down one side. The black sleeves and thin swatches of glittered fabric molded to her frame.

I wanted her to stand up so I could get a full view of her.

Hell, I wished no one else was in the room with us.

But that reality zeroed in on me as soon as Gavin’s voice broke me out of my haze. My cousin was dressed in a tailored three-piece suit, hair styled, and face as rigid as stone. Beside him were Lady Helena and Lord Edwin, their faces set in equally smug expressions.

“Mother, Father, this is Lachlan MacWebley the Third, from Scotland,” Gavin said, patting his mother’s arm, who seemed to have a death grip on him.

Lady Helena was a classic beauty with her dark blonde hair swept in a fancy updo and a long deep purple dress that covered most of her small frame. But even though she was slight, she had a presence about her that commanded everyone’s attention. And by the way she scrutinized me, it took everything I had not to flinch as I approached her and put out my hand.

“Lady Helena, it’s an honor. But, please, call me Jacob. My father and great-grandfather go by Lachlan.”

There was a flick of hesitation on her face as she glanced toward her husband before she pursed her lips into a tight, almost constipated smile. She then put her hand out, and I bent down to brush my lips against the cold skin. I couldn’t help but notice the large diamond on one finger and the emerald on the other.

My mother had had similar pieces at one time.

Before she had to sell them to keep our family going.

I quickly pulled my hand away, stepping to the side and trying to keep my mind off the glittering diamonds that signified the prosperity that the MacWebleys were lacking.

Luckily, Lady Helena didn’t have much to say to me, and Lord Edwin was a bit more pleasant. Unlike his son, at least this man smiled under his waxed mustache. He was about the same height as Gavin but broader like an athlete who never let go of his physique.

“It’s an unexpected surprise to see you here, Laird Lachlan, or I guess it’s Jacob?” he asked, holding his hand out and giving me a brisk handshake that belonged to a politician.

He smelled of toffee and smoke, exactly like my grandfather and great-grandfather. The whiff of a memory reminded me why I was here. To preserve our family legacy. Whatever it took.

I nodded, not smiling as I responded. “Yes, Laird Jacob MacWebley. Great-Grandfather would be here, but he wasn’t feeling well. Though he sends his regards, and his great-grandson, of course.”

Lord Edwin cleared his throat, dropping his hand. “Of course. Gavin told us about this situation. Though we can’t say we’re not surprised, it will be nice to have some tradition added to the manor we haven’t had in years.”

“Tradition?” I asked, unable to hide the trepidation in my voice.

He laughed, a barrel of a chuckle. “Of course, my boy. Since my son is marrying a historian, she looked up all of the old wedding traditions from when the Webley family began.”

MacWebleys. That’s what they were before their ancestor got this manor. An English family who married Scottish nobility.

“I look forward to it.” I forced a smile.

He put his arm out, extending it toward the opulent table setting. “We can talk more about that later. First, our chef has prepared a feast.”

I knew exactly what food he’d prepared. I smelled the aroma of roast and rosemary potatoes.