Welcome to this fic written by Luciefée, L_les_Ile and Moongrim.
Translation by L_Ies_Ile and Nancy: thank you so much girls !
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The metallic gray minibus drove quietly down the M90 motorway towards Perth.
Behind the wheel, Armitage Hux stared at the asphalt as the daylight slowly faded. An hour earlier, the sky had begun to take on heavy black clouds heralding a downpour and the first drops of rain were beginning to fall.
The poor reputation of the Scottish climate was confirmed, even in the middle of June. The countryside all around was lush green, the pastures stretched as far as the eye could see and a little further away the placid waters of Loch Leven could be seen in which was reflected the majestic silhouette of the peaks of Glencoe.
The redhead then activated the wipers before rubbing his eyes. He was exhausted. On the seat just behind him, Finn was already snoozing on Poe's shoulder as the latter absently watched the landscape go by. They were both so cute, holding hands and Hux smiled.
"What ? " he suddenly asked to the young woman sitting to his right, whose gaze he had felt weighing on him for a good two minutes already.
"Well, I still can't believe you should be called Lord Armitage Hux now," Rose retorted mockingly. "Are girlfriends also expected to respect etiquette? Am I going to have to call you 'My Lord' ?"
"Stop, it's just as disturbing for you as it is for me, this whole story of heritage and property in the Highlands."
"Completely crazy you mean! This kind of stuff really only happens to you! "
Armie then stared at the road again with a sigh.
When the young journalist received a phone call from a so-called Edinburgh lawyer specializing in estates, he initially believed it was a joke from Poe. However, it was not.
The lawyer had informed him that genealogical research had been carried out and that at this very moment all the explanatory documents were being sent to him by email. Armie had therefore discovered that his maternal great-great-uncle, an old boy, only son and who had died at the age of ninety a few months earlier, was part of the Scottish nobility. He owned a manor house as well as land not far from Inverness and as Armie's parents were unfortunately no longer of this world, all of the property belonged to him, the title of Baron of Glenndow and the bank account of his prestigious ancestor. A sizeable little sum, but one which most likely be swallowed up in the costs of managing this unexpected inheritance.
Once the surprise had passed, Armitage had entered a phase of intense reflection. What was he going to do with a mansion in Scotland?
He knew he was of Irish descent and was born in Dublin, but after the tragic death of his parents in a plane crash he was taken in as a baby by his mother's sister who lived on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Aunt Amilyn had immediately considered him her own son and he had become a real little New Yorker, smiling, jovial and always ready to make new friends.
