Heirly Ever After, Vernon, Magan [best thriller novels to read .txt] 📗

landscape, but Loch MacWebley. I’d recognize it anywhere with the highland backdrop, the row of hearty trees and the little rock island where my brother and I would play that we were king of the mountain before dunking the other into the water.

This was the exact view from the front of MacWebley Manor.

“Ah, so you have seen a bit of Miss Natalie’s touches,” Hugh called over my shoulder.

I glanced at him. “Natalie hung this up?”

He nodded. “She found this amongst Aunt Sarah’s things and did some research, I guess, saying it was a loch of our ancestors in Scotland.”

“Loch MacWebley,” I said softly.

“So you do know this place, I take it?”

“Aye. I know it well.”

“You’ll have to ask Natalie if there are any other pieces. She’s been adding little touches of our Scottish heritage. Her and Gavin. Much to our mother’s dismay, but I can’t say that I mind her getting her feathers ruffled a bit.”

I wanted to ask more about my dear auntie who wasn’t interested in me. What she knew about my family. But as I stared at the painting, all I could think about was my great-grandfather back home. How much he would have wanted to see all of this.

“Do you mind if I take a photo of it to send to my family?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, go right ahead. Would you like me to take it so you can be in it?”

“No. That’s fine. Just the photo here should be enough.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and snapped a quick photo, reminding myself to send it to Blair later, when my dear cousin couldn’t see my phone.

“Now about that coffee and scotch. Tell me, is it as good as your brother delivered the other day?”

Hugh blew a raspberry. “Pft, my brother and good scotch? Please, he probably looked for the fanciest bottle. Now I specifically remembered a bottle of the Dalmore 64 Trinitas, only three bottles made of it in the world, and it’s supposed to have a nose of bitter orange and Columbian coffee. Perfect with bangers and eggs.”

I didn’t even want to think about the price tag on the bottle, but if the Webleys were dishing it out, I’d take it.

“Glad someone knows his scotch.”

Chapter Thirteen

Madison

The morning horse ride with my sister and the rest of the ladies was going well enough. At least I hadn’t startled the horse into a gallop or fallen off it. Yet.

We were heading back to the manor, and even though I was sitting on top of a giant beast, I still felt like I had run a marathon. My legs were like gelatin and my entire body ached. Although some of it might be because I’d slept like shit and wanted nothing more than another hot shower and a nap before whatever next hen party expedition we had.

Just as I thought about hopefully going to an empty room and soaking in a tub, a raucous laugh echoed over the landscape. Cecily, Mom, and Natalie must have heard it, too, because they all stopped before we crested the hill.

“Someone’s having a good time,” Cecily sing-songed.

“This better not be another sword fight,” Natalie replied.

“What? Sword fight?” I asked, whipping my head toward my sister.

“Don’t ask. Let’s just see what’s going on,” Natalie muttered as she and Cecily pulled ahead.

I followed them, stopping as soon as I caught sight of the two silhouettes lounging on the veranda, a huddle of dogs around them as the two kept tilting back their heads, chugging something from mugs that I wondered if it was really coffee.

As we got closer, the silhouettes became clearer.

One was a man in a tailored suit with a dimpled chin and the same blue eyes as Gavin and Cecily. The other with the wrinkled shirt and hair sticking all over the place was the last person I wanted to see, but he smiled at me anyway.

“Madison, look who finally decided to join us.” Jacob stood up, wobbling a bit as he zig-zagged around some of the Great Pyrenees around him.

As if we just hadn’t gotten into a terrible fight, he threw his arms around me, enveloping me against his warm chest as the faint smell of coffee and alcohol filled my nostrils.

“Ah, so this is the fair Madison,” the other man called.

Jacob’s hands fumbled as he turned, keeping his arm around me as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Or because he was still swaying and needed something to hold on to.

“Cousin Hugh, meet my girlfriend, Madison. Madison, this is Cousin Hugh.”

Girlfriend?

“Girlfriend?” Natalie asked, her voice raising so high, I thought it might break glass.

Hugh stood up, not as wobbly as my date or whatever he was. But his grin was just as wide as he put his hand out to me. “So glad to meet you. Your boyfriend has not shut up about you.”

Boyfriend?

Okay, now things were really getting out of hand.

“Will you excuse us? I need a shower, and I’m thinking my boyfriend here might need some aspirin,” I gritted, patting Jacob’s side.

“You heard the boss, cousin. But I’ll see you later, right?” Jacob called over his shoulder as I practically dragged him into the manor and down the hall toward what I hoped was the way to our bedroom.

“Left, then right,” he yelled so loud, I swore the paintings on the wall shook around us.

“Can you keep it down?” I whispered.

“Why? So people don’t know yer taking me to your room? I think they already know,” he slurred.

“Ugh, I hope you don’t think this is cute.”

“No, but you’re really cute. Like a little duck.” He pushed his thumb on my nose. “Quack, quack.”

I was used to carrying drunk guys home. Chris had done it more than once, and I’d been his designated driver from the bars. But when Chris was drunk, he got surly, usually yelling at me that he hadn’t drank too much, and we’d get into a fight in the middle of