He swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“Mr. Adair.”
He turned to see Alfred approaching. The maître d’hôtel wore the same uniform but his waistcoat, like Wakefield’s, was dark green instead of white to differentiate them from the rest of the staff. Alfred glanced between Andrew and his boss, eyes glinting hard at the thought of one of his staff displeasing Lachlan. While Alfred was the best maître d’hôtel in the country, he was so because he was dedicated and disciplined.
Once he was close enough not to be overheard, he murmured, “I do hope there isn’t a problem, Mr. Adair.”
“No, Mr. Ramsay.” Lachlan always used Alfred’s full name in front of the staff and members. It was his preference to be as formal and professional as possible. “I was just asking Andrew how he likes the job so far. I do believe he’s only been with us for a few months.”
Andrew looked surprised he’d covered for him but hid it quickly.
“And what did Andrew reply?” Alfred asked his waiter directly.
The young man straightened like a soldier. “I like it very much, Mr. Ramsay, Mr. Adair.”
“Well, if that’ll be all.” Lachlan nodded to the men and hurried away before either could stop him.
Escaping out the side entrance that led onto the path that cut through the golf course and down to the loch, Lachlan thought he was home free. Someone had to make sure Robyn didn’t cause trouble while she was here.
Mac’s words from earlier that morning came to him.
“You’re treating her well?” Mac asked from his hospital bed. His pallor had improved significantly. “Robyn?”
“Treating her well?”
“Accommodating her. She wouldn’t tell me much this morning. Just wanted to talk the case through.”
“She’s not exhausting you, is she?”
“No.” He gave a sharp shake of his head. “But I feel useless lying here while she’s out there investigating. If anything happens to her, Lachlan, because of this case …”
Stupidly, it hadn’t occurred to him that Robyn might be putting herself in danger. “Shit, Mac … ask her to stop, then.”
“Nah. She’s as stubborn as her old man. Just … watch out for her. Please.”
It was the last thing he wanted to do.
In fact, he vowed to stay away from her. She was intrusive and brash and he always felt like she was quietly mocking him.
No woman had ever dared to quietly mock Lachlan.
No one, for that matter.
At least not to his face.
“Lachlan!” a man shouted from behind him, gravel crunching underfoot.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered under his breath. Was he to never get to the damn studio? Reluctantly turning, Lachlan found Fergus hurrying across the estate grounds from the direction of the mews.
He wore overalls and a massive grin.
That was Fergus. You always got him the same way. Cheerful and accommodating.
Lachlan tried to shrug off his impatience. Fergus didn’t deserve it.
“Fergus, what I can do for you?” he asked.
“I saw you heading toward the loch?”
He nodded.
The mechanic grinned. “Great. I’ll come with you. I need to speak to Ery about her Defender.”
Lachlan knew Fergus was working on a Defender Eredine had saved from the scrap heap. He was doing it during his downtime, between his work on the estate cars.
Together they walked to Eredine’s studio, Fergus prattling on about the Defender, his words going in one ear and out the other. Lachlan nodded and made noises of agreement now and then, but he had absolutely no clue what the mechanic was talking about. His mind was on Robyn Penhaligon and the stalker threatening the peace at Ardnoch. His mind seemed to be on very little else these days.
Climbing the porch of the studio, he could hear Robyn’s husky voice. Lachlan held a hand up to Fergus to stop him from entering the studio, and he quietly pulled open the door to look inside.
While the broken windows were taped up as they waited for the new ones to arrive, the mirrors were cleaned, and all damage had been repaired as quickly as possible. The studio was usable again.
Something Lachlan couldn’t quite understand moved through him when he saw Lucy and Eredine locked in a grapple while Robyn stood beside them, hands on hips, calling out instructions.
Eredine trained with her.
Eredine, who trusted no one but his family.
Lachlan’s attention drifted from his pseudo sister’s expression of concentration, past Lucy, to Robyn. She’d performed a miracle.
“That’s it!” Robyn called out, clapping. “You’ve turned Lucy’s strike against her. You have her trapped. Now, if she were a man, you would pull her forward—pull her forward, Eredine—that’s it, and this is where she, or more likely he, is open to a knee strike. Do you see? Yes, like that. If Lucy were a dude and you’d actually hit him, he’d be in extreme testicular agony right now.”
He heard Eredine’s chuckle and Lucy’s snort, but for some ludicrous reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off Robyn. She wore workout gear, much like the other ladies, except she wore a full tank covering her slender torso. No cleavage on display, though the tank was tight enough to reveal she had an ample bosom. And she was tall for a woman. Maybe five seven, five eight. Her legs went on forever.
She turned and bent down to grab a bottle of water, providing him with an excellent view of a perfect, heart-shaped arse.
“Lachlan!” Eredine called.
Robyn whirled, and he yanked his gaze away, locking eyes with Eredine. He gave her what he hoped wasn’t a guilty smile. “Just wanted to check on things.”
“Can I go in yet?” Fergus said at his back. “Or are you done ogling?”
Lachlan cut him a dirty look over his shoulder. “I wasn’t ogling. And do you want to be fired?”
He grinned, dark eyes bright with mirth, because he knew there was no way Lachlan would fire him. Little fucker.
Fergus pushed by and into the studio. “Hullo, ladies.”
Lucy and Eredine broke their grapple to stride over to them. Lachlan avoided Robyn’s eyes.
“You decided to train.” He cuddled Eredine into his side.
“It’s fun.” Her gaze cut to Robyn. “Robyn’s a great instructor. I told her if she stays, she should open a class.”
“Hear! Hear!” Lucy tapped her eco water bottle against Robyn’s. “And I told her if she ever wants to come to LA, I will pay her good money to turn me into a badass.”
“You’re already a badass,” Robyn returned, flipping her long ponytail over her shoulder. “You don’t need me for that.” Her eyes met his. They were so large, filled with so much expression. This morning, he’d taken time to look at Mac’s eyes and he’d realized, Lucy was right. Robyn had his eyes.
But they looked different on her.
Robyn’s were ever changing.
Unpredictable.
She was unpredictable.
“So, why are you here?” Eredine nudged him. When he looked down at her, she wore a knowing smirk that confused him.
“I’m here to check on you, and Fergus is here …” Lachlan gestured to him.
“About the Defender. I have paint and interior samples for you to see. But first, I feel I should introduce myself to our lovely guest.” Fergus stared at Robyn with open admiration. It was a bit much. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to women more beautiful than she was roaming the estate.