“Truly?” Lady Aster looked at her sister. “I was just thinking how romantic Jamie is for a woman. Jamie is the name of an . . . anadventuress.”
Lady Rose cocked her head. “That is true.”
“Girls. Please.” Violet shook her head and then pressed a hand to her belly. “You will make our guest uncomfortable.”
Eilidh considered that unlikely but said nothing.
Though twins, Lady Aster and Lady Rose were nearly opposites physically. Lady Aster was dark, dainty, and petite. Lady Rose, by contrast, was fair-haired, tall, and lushly curvaceous. That said, what the twins lacked in physical similarities, they more than compensated for in sameness of thought and behavior. They were both equally outspoken and freely mannered.
“We are merely commenting on Miss Fyffe’s various names, Violet.” Lady Rose looked at her older sister with wide, innocent eyes. “I mean, we haven’t said a word about how exciting it must have been to don trousers.”
“And sail the Seven Seas aboard a merchant frigate.” Lady Aster wiggled excitedly in her seat, turning to her sister. “Ewan told me that Jamie was a master swordsman by the time they reached Vanuatu. Can you believe it? Jamie, fighting men, aboard a ship!”
“Is that true, Miss Fyffe?” Lady Rose clutched her sister’s arm. “I cannot imagine stabbing another person. I fear I would swoon.”
“That is only because you dislike the sight of blood,” Lady Aster pointed out.
“True,” Lady Rose nodded earnestly. “Do you swoon at the sight of blood, Miss Fyffe?”
Eilidh froze at the sheer casualness of the question.
“Girls!” Violet said, her tone that of a woman nearing the end of her tether.
“That’s a foolish suggestion, Rose,” Lady Aster scolded. “Of course, Miss Fyffe doesn’t faint at the sight of blood. She is far too courageous to allow a wee spot of blood to stop her.”
“She would just slash right through a murderous mob.” Lady Rose mimicked the action with her arm.
“Yes, Miss Fyffe.” Lady Aster turned to Eilidh. “Do you think it likely you may have killed a man?”
“Rose! Aster! Enough!” Violet’s voice cracked through the room, the tether-end clearly having been reached. Her ladyship looked at Eilidh. “You do not need to answer that, Miss Fyffe.”
Eilidh managed a weak smile. “I certainly hope I have not taken anyone’s life, Lady Aster. I have no memories of violence. Nothing specific, that is. It is all well and good as a joke, but deliberately causing someone else such harm . . . well, I cannot imagine myself being that sort of person.”
In fact, Eilidh trembled at the thought. At 127 men who would never live to see another day.
“Well said,” Violet nodded her head, shooting her sisters another repressive look.
“I have recovered a handful of memories about my time as a carpenter’s mate, however.” Eilidh stood and handed the cotton bag to Violet. “They have resulted in a wee gift for the bairn.”
“Oh!” Violet’s eyes lit with delight. “You are too kind.” She tugged open the draw string on the bag and pulled out the kelpie. “It’s beautiful!”
Violet turned it over in her hands, inspecting every detail, before handing it across to Lady Aster and Lady Rose who cooed in delight.
While they were still passing the wooden sculpture from hand to hand, a footman brought in a tea tray laden with biscuits and finger sandwiches.
Lady Rose poured the tea.
Thankfully, the twins’ conversation moved on from fighting and blood.
Eilidh nibbled on a shortbread biscuit while they spoke of the upcoming midsummer festival. Lady Rose and Lady Aster were insistent that buntings must be hung across the lower gardens.
“The buntings will be festive,” Lady Rose said, passing a cup of tea to Eilidh.
“They will take far too long to make,” Violet countered.
“Butyouwill not have to make them.” Lady Aster pointed at her sister’s belly.
“Yes.” Rose nodded. “You will be too busy with my new favorite niece or nephew.”
