Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

D errick leaned back and read the papers in his hand. A business proposal, although a very attractive one, that didn’t sit well with him. Across the desk from him sat William Montrose, CEO of the most prestigious hotels in Edinburgh and chairman at the Bank of Scotland.

Montrose, extremely well connected and wealthy, was just the type of person Derrick wanted to attract in the venture to turn McRainey Estates into a five-star resort. The problem: Montrose was also the competition.

“Lord McRainey, as you can see, our partnering would not only guarantee your establishment instant world-wide recognition, but put you on the list of ‘must-see’ places for the elite.”

Montrose reached for his drink, allowing the words to sink in. His sharp gaze never left Derrick’s face. “We propose a very lucrative sum, with the understanding that we will be in a partnership with no money involved, and not in competition. In other words, all business decisions will be coordinated between us to ensure the best outcome for us both.”

“It’s hard to see what I have to lose from this,” Derrick answered, his eyes meeting Montrose’s. “What I don’t understand is what you have to gain.”

The man did not answer right away. Derrick could sense his wheels turning, analyzing how to answer the question. “We’d gain from the lack of competition of course. Gleneagles is in a very strong position, but new resorts can entice our fickle clientele away.”

A partnership agreement bonus was included for Derrick in the amount of several million pounds, once he signed. Derrick’s pulse quickened as his eyes roved over the amount on the paperwork in front of him. With that amount, he could complete most of the golf course and building of the stables without having to touch his own money.

“I will certainly give your offer all due consideration Mr. Montrose.” Derrick stood, letting his visitor know the meeting had ended, keeping the upper hand since they were on his home turf. Montrose’s eyebrows lifted, not used to being dismissed. But he regained his composure and stood as well.

After the man left, Derrick let out a slow whistle while reading over the documents again. It seemed too good to be true, and as they said, what seemed too good… The intercom buzzed, interrupting his thoughts.

His secretary announced his aunt, and he slid the papers into the leather sleeve they’d been delivered in.

Edith entered, along with her the aroma of freshness and flowers, her favorite perfume. She sat without waiting for him to invite her to, very much at home, as this used to be her office. He genuinely liked his aunt; her strong sense for business propelled McRainey industries into one of the strongest corporations in Britain.

Their only point of contention was and always would be the future of the estate.

“Derrick, I must have a word with you regarding the workmen who’ve begun showing up at the estate,” Edith began without preamble. “I know that on my eighty-fifth birthday you become the rightful owner, but that is still over a year away. I’ve sent them all away and will continue to do so until next June.”

Pressing his lips together to keep from blurting out an angry expletive, Derrick nodded, his patience wearing thin. Her actions were costing him money.

“Aunt Edith, the changes will take place once I become the owner, which will happen come next June. You, more than anyone, understand the work must commence this year in order for the resort to be open to the public as soon as I secede you.”

His aunt stood and rounded the desk; leaning over him she made the most of her five-foot-six stature. “Derrick, not one brick on my home will be touched until that last day in June. Do you understand?”

When he just stared at her and didn’t reply, she continued. “I am confident Gwyneth will free Tristan McRainey and you will never inherit the estate. So save the money you are wasting on any plans for this ‘public attraction’ of yours.”

With that she turned on her heel and stormed from the office.

Derrick’s hand trembled as he loosened his tie, fighting the urge to run after her and demand she return and continue the discussion. However, no matter how angry his aunt made him, he would not disrespect the woman.

Tristan McRainey did exist—he was just a ghost, nothing more. The fable was untrue, he was not a captive of an enchantment.

True, he’d seen the apparition himself. As a matter of fact, his ancestor had been a sort of constant companion of his when he was a child. Once he grew up, he stopped seeing him.

As much as he felt a certain tie to the man, he didn’t think it was fair to lose this opportunity to become the next Lord of McRainey Estates and forge his own legacy, all because of his aunt’s fixation on a dead man.

And if he had to use Gwen Lockhart to win this contest, he’d do so.

He would ensure Gwen was kept busy and not given the opportunity to spend any time on freeing the ghost.