Amanda Scott (26 page)

“No, Beaton’s, and that is what stirred this notion in my head.”

“Tell us,” Toby commanded, gesturing to Malcolm to carve him a more generous slice of the great roast of beef.

“As you know,” Olivia said, “Sir Eustace insists that his betrothal to my daughter must take precedence over the earlier one
with Sir Christopher, because Sir Christopher is legally dead and did not take a part in that earlier one.”

“Not to mention,” Eustace interjected, “that I spoke my own vows.”

“With respect, sir,” Olivia said, “that can make no difference, because your nephew had an excellent proxy in his father.”
To the table at large, she said, “I am persuaded that both betrothals are perfectly legal. After all, our own High King of
Scots married in France without setting a foot there.”

“But where does this brilliant notion of yours enter into it?” Toby asked.

“Why, with Cardinal Beaton, of course. If he is coming here to confer with Buccleuch and put an end to his marriage—”

“More likely, he’s coming to see how strong our defenses are before he lets Jamie come within a hundred miles of the line,”
Eustace said.

“Even so, he will be talking with Buccleuch at Branxholme, which is less than two hours from here on horseback. I mean to
invite him to Mute Hill, and I warrant he will come. Then he can decide which of you Fiona must marry. Indeed, I shall be
surprised if I cannot persuade him to perform the ceremony himself.”

Glancing at Kit, Anne thought he looked pale.

Lord Berridge said mildly, “What an exciting household this promises to be. Do you know how soon Beaton expects to be in the
Borders, my lady?”

“Janet thought he would be at Branxholme within the next sennight,” Olivia said, smiling. “If you are still here, sir, I hope
you will attend the wedding.”

“Indeed, I will. Dear me, I am sure it must be the first wedding to which I have ever been invited where no one knows who
will act the part of the groom!”

F
ergus had disappeared again.

“I cannot find him anywhere,” Catriona said to Maggie, when the two met again in the latter’s parlor. “He’s simply vanished.
I think he’s terrified of Jonah.”

“Aye, and I canna blame the lad,” Maggie said. “Jonah’s gey wicked.”

It had happened again.’ One moment gray mist, the next the cozy parlor and lovely Catriona only inches away, her soft breasts
peeping ever so invitingly from her low-cut green, gauzy gown—so close, but maddeningly untouchable.

“What if Fergus really can sense Jonah’s presence the way you can sense Claud’s?” Catriona said. “What if Jonah is really
near us all the time now? He can change his shape at will, after all. He could be anyone, or anything, for that matter.”

“Fergus is just afraid,” Maggie said. “I dinna doubt that Jonah be watching, but we canna worry about him until we find Claud.”

“I am watching.” He tried to say the words aloud, but no sound issued forth. They could neither hear nor see him, and even
Maggie seemed unable to sense how near he was, although he was strongly aware of a third, unseen person with them in the room.
Clearly, Jonah—or someone else—was enjoying this dreadful game.

“Fergus said you talked with his lass,” Catriona said.

“Aye, and what of it?”

“I just wondered if you talked with Kit Chisholm, too, that’s all.”

“I havena talked wi’ him yet, but I did peek into his thoughts the day the lass pushed him into the brook,” Maggie said. “He’s
a good man, so dinna vex me by complaining, Catriona, for I havena told ye all o’ Jonah’s wickedness yet.”

“There’s more?”

“Aye, but when Fergus vanished after I mentioned it the first time… ” She paused, then added bluntly, “I didna want tae frighten
ye away, too.”

“I won’t go anywhere,” Catriona said. “I mean to see this through, but you cannot kill a mortal, Maggie, whatever else we
do. You’d be banished forever.”

“I ken that, lass, but I’ll no let that Jonah leave my Claud stuck tae any mortal till they both die. The thing is,” she added
reluctantly, “Jonah said if I kill the wrong one, then his spell will allow the Host tae take our Claud.”

A scream of terror filled his mind, and the gray mist rose to enclose him.

Catriona clapped a hand to her breast. “No! Oh, what are we to do?”

“We’ll do what we must,” Maggie said grimly. “And that Fergus will, too.”

“I’m here,” a small voice said. “I’m afeared tae let Jonah Bonewits see me wi’ ye, but I’ll do what I must tae protect my
lass.”

“Good lad,” Maggie said, suppressing the urge to make him show himself so she could vent her true feelings by shaking the
wee eavesdropper till his ears flew off.

The afternoon and evening passed pleasantly, thanks to the skills of Toby’s jester. However, Anne noted with disappointment
and mild exasperation that Fiona was more taken with the jester’s music and stories than she was by Sir Christopher. She was
polite and responsive to any comment he addressed to her, but the lively jester was a fascinating novelty.

Kit tried more than once to introduce the problem of the betrothal, clearly wanting to understand his uncle’s puzzling position
in the matter, but none of the others seemed interested in discussing it. Apparently, Eustace and Toby had decided to let
Olivia have her way and leave everything to the cardinal.

Eustace seemed unconcerned about Beaton choosing Fiona’s bridegroom. When he left Sunday morning after Parson Allardice celebrated
mass in the chapel, Anne thought he seemed unnaturally cheerful, as if he were certain Beaton would select him. She tried
to assure herself that his good humor might stem from nothing more than winning the new jester from Toby, as he had said he
would, but it was far easier to suspect him of further nefarious plotting. She did not trust Eustace an inch.

Toby was not cast down by losing the jester, having decided the household at Hawks Rig would have more need of entertainment
than the one at Mute Hill.

“That fellow’s too energetic by half,” he explained when Fiona asked why he had let Eustace take Mad Jake away with him. “All
that flipping and jumping around, and when he pulled a coin out of a maidservant’s ear whilst she was pouring my ale… Well,
I just thought that was enough, that’s all.”

“But I thought he was funny, Uncle Toby, and he played his lute very well, too,” Fiona said. “Moreover, he sings songs I like,
and he teaches me new ones, which our other minstrels never did.”

“Well, if I’d realized you were taken with the chap, I’d have kept him, my dear,” Toby said, fondly patting her hand.

They were in Olivia’s bower, having retired there after their chief guest’s departure. Kit was also preparing to leave. He,
too, intended to ride to Hawks Rig, as everyone knew, but Eustace had not invited him to ride with his party.

“Pray do not concern yourself over the jester, uncle,” Olivia said as she drew her tambour frame nearer. “I would remind you
that despite our recent company and the plans that continue for Fiona’s wedding, this is still a house of mourning. Anne,
pray draw that curtain a little more so the sunlight does not strike my face. I should think you would have noticed that it
is practically blinding me.”

“Yes, Aunt Olivia,” Anne said, hurrying to obey. From the window, she had a view of the garden, and to her surprise, she saw
Kit walking there with Lord Berridge. They were too far away for her to read the expressions on their faces, but she could
tell by the way Kit moved that he was speaking forcefully, and she wondered what his lordship had said to annoy him.

Kit had waited only long enough to be sure no one was near enough to overhear them before he said grimly, “What the devil
do you and Willie think you are doing, Tam? Someone is bound to know you cannot be Berridge of Midlothian.”

“How would they?” Tam asked reasonably. “As far as I know, nae one uses such a title.”

“Beaton, for one, will certainly know it’s false, don’t you think?”

“I canna imagine why he would. There be any number o’ titles hanging about, and some folks just style themselves as they please.
Think o’ Beaton himself. First, he were plain Davy Beaton, then Father Davy when he decided he had tae be a priest, and now
his eminence. I’m doing nowt but playing a wee charade.”

“A most dangerous charade.”

“Nay, lad. Tae my mind, there be nobles aplenty who never mention their minor titles. Who could remember them all, anyway?
Sons take minor titles, too, sithee? Ha’ ye never been introduced tae some young sprig, styling himself Lord This or That
wi’ a title that belongs tae his father?”

Kit nodded. “That’s a point, but though you seem able to affect the accents, how do you intend to play the part of a lord
when you’ve never done it before?”

Tam chuckled. “Playing the part is easy. I had plenty of time tae study an excellent example of lordly behavior whilst we
were aboard the
Marion Ogilvy.”

“Not the captain, surely. for I can tell you—”

“Nay, lad. A gentleman, in his own way, the captain were, but obsequious to them he considered his betters. Knowing it would
take someone more arrogant tac impress Toby and Eustace, I took that bastard Gibson for my model.”

Kit suppressed an urge to laugh. “Our villainous first mate!”

“Aye, for a more pompous sort I never hope tae meet. Pretending tae be Gibson wi’ a royal accent seemed just the course tae
take wi’ Toby and your uncle. That lass, though, she’ll be another concern. I’ll ha’ tae watch m’self wi’ her.”

Kit did not have to ask which lass he meant. Fiona would not suspect a thing, but Anne was far more perceptive. He shook his
head. “I do not know what you or Willie were thinking to get up these masquerades.”

“We’re guarding your back, lad. Willie winkled an invitation tae Hawks Rig out o’ that uncle o’ yours, did he not?”

“Eustace won him, dicing,” Kit reminded him.

“Aye, as Toby did,” Tam said. “Sithee, what they didna tell ye is that them dice they cast was Willie’s. Sly as a hill fox,
that lad is, to fool your foumart uncle.”

“Aye, he is, though since Eustace is about all that’s left of my family, I suppose I should object to your calling him a weasel.”

“No gentleman steals from his kin.”

Kit agreed, so he changed the subject, saying mildly, “So then, you mean to impose on her ladyship’s hospitality, whilst Willie
takes up residence at Hawks Rig. Is that your grand plan?”

“Aye, although we came by the notion separately. I began hearing tales o’ your uncle’s doings as soon as I left Dunsithe,
and knew straightaway that ye’d welcome information if I could find a way to slip into the enemy’s camp.”

“But as Lord Berridge?”

“A more likely role for me than playing the jester,” Tam said with a rueful smile. “I dinna deny that if I had tae deal daily
with a man o’ your uncle’s stamp, I’d soon be sped, for he’s as sharp as he can stare. But Toby Bell be nobbut a fat fool,
so once I saw that Willie had hit on the very way to keep close to Eustace—”

“I was astonished to see him, I can tell you.”

Tam chuckled. “I believe ye, for I were, too. I found him in possession of the alehouse when I wandered in. Still, I dinna
think Eustace would have thought tae take him tae Hawks Rig had Willie no managed tae slip the notion into Toby’s head at
the start that the pair o’ them should cast dice for possession o’ him.”

“Faith, is that how he did it?”

“Aye,
and
fixed it so Toby won, which just made Eustace want Willie more. Your uncle is a covetous man, lad.”

“He is that,” Kit agreed. “I don’t like any of this. The more I see of him, the less I understand. First, he refused to recognize
me. Yesterday, he said he looks forward to welcoming me at Hawks Rig, but when I suggested riding with him this morning, he
said he had business to attend on the way and would look for me late this afternoon or evening, or even tomorrow, that I had
no cause to hurry.”

“Your stopping his marriage dismayed the man,” Tam said. “I’d say he showed his true nature then. He doesna want ye here,
and ’tis me own belief he did think ye were dead. ’Tis almost as if he had cause tae believe it.”

“He was certainly not happy to see me,” Kit agreed.

“Aye, well, he’s settled in comfortably at Hawks Rig, especially as he’s turned out your people and replaced them wi’ his
own. He meant tae install Mistress Fiona there—aye,
and
her inheritance—so he canna be happy that ye upset all his plans. Whether or no he were dangerous afore, he will be now.”

“Her ladyship invited us both to visit as often as we like,” Kit said. “I had not intended to spend much time at Mute Hill
before his eminence’s arrival—”

“
If
he arrives,” Tam interjected. “It’s occurred tae me that he can answer her ladyship’s question easily enough in a letter.”

“Aye,” Kit said. “Then what? Does she simply send word to Hawks Rig, commanding the chosen bridegroom to present himself forthwith?”

Tam shrugged, and Kit was no wiser an hour later when he took his leave of Lady Carmichael.

She fluttered her lashes at him as she bade him farewell, repeating her invitation to ride over as often as he liked until
they learned what Beaton’s decision would be. “For I am certain, sir, that his eminence will agree that yours is the betrothal
our dearest Fiona must honor,” she said. “It came first, after all, and thus must take precedence. You will see, for I know
I am right.”

“We shall all see, madam,” he said, glancing at Anne.

She had been quiet at the noon meal and paid him little heed now except to nod when he included her in his farewells. Doubtless
she’d be glad to see the back of him, he thought. He had not behaved well toward her, and that was plain fact. She had a knack
for bringing out the worst in him. and he could not understand it. He wanted her, of all people, to think well of him, but
even during their shooting lesson, with her maid present, it had taken every ounce of strength he had to keep his hands off
her. He could not deny that she intrigued him far more than her cousin did, and under ordinary circumstances, he would have
enjoyed a light flirtation with her that might well have led to something more, but she was right to keep him at arm’s length
until they sorted out the betrothal nonsense, if they could sort it out. In any event, he was a villain to tease her. He just
could not seem to help it.