Laird of the Highlands: International Billionaires IX: The Scots Read Online Free Page B

crouch, she surveyed her work. In a month or two, when the surge of tourists arrived, these flowers would be at their peak. The reputation of Castle Ross and its surrounding gardens would be assured for another season, even if the old laird had died, leaving his estate to a common woman .
    That tag, when she’d heard it, had hurt a bit.
    The last thing she needed right now was the wonderful, new laird showing his face and gaining admirers. The last thing she could afford to do was alert anyone in Pictloch about his presence.
    She needed to keep this quiet and keep being patient until he left.
    Ceri grabbed the empty tray and walked to the shed. By the time she’d planted the other flowers and then pruned back half of the old rose bushes curling around the new wooden trellises she and Will had installed last year, she was dead tired.
    She was also somewhat amused.
    Neither of the London peacocks had poked their heads from the castle.
    Was she that scary? Or perhaps the man was counting his pennies and deciding exactly how much he planned on offering her, although he was doomed to be disappointed.
    Chuckling, she cleaned her tools and stowed them away. Stepping out of the tool shed, she threw a wistful glance at her glass-enclosed herb garden before going down the path to her cottage.
    First, her duty.
    She had another solid week of work before she’d have a chance to focus on her passion. But once the castle opened and the money flowed in, she could spend more time with her concoctions and her plans.
    After a shower and a change of clothes, she felt revived enough to fix herself a couple of eggs on toast. She fingered her mobile a few times, thinking about calling Will’s solicitor. Except Mr. Gordon lived in Pictloch and she didn’t want to take the chance of letting anyone know the new laird was in residence.
    Only for a day or so at the most, though.
    He’d offer. She’d refuse. He’d leave. Her life would return to normal.
    There really was nothing to worry about. Will had made sure the transfer of his estate to her was airtight. And there wasn’t enough money in the world to make her give the castle and the responsibility to his disinterested son. Eventually, Mr. London and his solicitor would figure it out and leave.
    She merely had to be patient.
    Walking to the window, she looked at the castle. The sunlight had dimmed, a cluster of clouds covering the sky. The castle tower, however, blazed with light. Ceri frowned. That was far more light than usual, far more light than she’d placed in the stairwell and upper chambers, so the tourists wouldn’t get lost in the gloom.
    Her frown deepened.
    How had he got so much light in there? She hadn’t noticed any deliverymen, but she had been in the back of the garden for most of the day. The front of the castle lay out of her sight.
    What was he doing?
    To her castle!
    Her hand tightened on the teacup, yet Will’s voice came from her memory, soothing her worry.
    “Lorne’s a good lad,” he’d said once when they’d hiked across to Ben Ross. “He’s settled in London and that’s where he belongs. Still, he understands the history of this place and respects it.”
    The man might be a bugger and a drewgi , but she trusted Will’s judgment, and she wasn’t going to worry herself sick. Whatever he was doing in the castle, he wasn’t going to destroy his own family’s heritage. She only had to wait until he was gone, and then she could put to rights whatever he was doing now.
    She simply needed to be patient.
    Turning away, she decided to go to bed early, since it appeared she wasn’t going to get Lorne Ross’s offer today. Perhaps if she worked hard tomorrow, she’d have some time to play with her herbs. Her bed looked amazingly welcoming as she slipped off her clothes and sank into the covers.
    Thud ! Thud ! Thud !
    Ceri shot up from her warm nest.
    Thud ! Thud ! Thud !
    Someone was at her front door. She had a good bet on who that was. But why had he