Harry’s brows lowered. Where was Nigel going with this?

“She’s a born leader and will need a strong arm to keep her from running roughshod over her staff. It’s a shame she’s up there by herself.” Nigel’s eyes twinkled.

“Nigel, could you be any more obvious?” Harry tossed Elise’s jacket over his shoulder, stepped over the threshold, and closed the door smartly behind him.

Seated inside the cab of Nick’s tractor, Harry swerved around a freshly cut stump on the priory grounds. “When did the old oak come down, Dad?” he asked his father.

“Just before I went in hospital,” Gavin Benson responded from the auxiliary seat beside him.

Harry had offered to take his father for a spin about Ashford Priory so Gavin could see if the grounds crew had followed through on the summer maintenance while he was ill—and to give his dad a much-needed airing away from Mum’s eagle eye.

“Are these bumps bothering you any?” Harry asked, careful not to let the concern inside him show.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

They went up the switchbacks under the canopy of lime trees and came out at the top near the reflection pool and fountain.

“The fountain isn’t spraying correctly,” Gavin growled, his eyes on the water feature.

Harry glanced at the large spray in the center of the vast pool. Water arched skyward like it always did, but he refrained from commenting. Dad was itching to get back to work, a good sign after his close shave with death.

“You’ve been spending a good bit of time with Nick these days.” Gavin turned in his seat.

“I have. It’s been nice to catch up, just like old times.”

“I understand you’ve made good use of his fishing stream, if the fresh trout we’ve had for dinner twice this week is anything to go by,” Gavin added.

“Definitely an added bonus,” Harry agreed, flashing his dad a grin.

“Sammy mentioned Lady Elise quite a bit over the last few days. Any chance you might bring her round so we can meet her?” Gavin asked with all the subtlety of a train crash.

Harry bit his tongue and inhaled sharply through his nose. “I haven’t spoken to her since things wrapped in Scotland.”

His father gave him the famous Gavin Benson I-see-through-your-smokescreen look.

Harry refused to rise to the bait. His business with Elise remained his and no one else’s. Even if he chose to unburden himself, what could he say? Elise had left London and refused his calls. As far as he was concerned, nothing was resolved between them—yet.

Getting nowhere, Gavin faced forward, his eyes scanning the grounds. “Your mother and I missed Sammy while you were up north. We’re looking forward to having him back when you leave for Glasgow.”