The third floor offered another large space, the floor strewn with herbs, and Evangeline guessed that many of the servants slept here. There were also several small rooms along one side, though she could not see within them. The stairs continued to the fourth floor, which included three chambers.
“Your keep reminds me somewhat of my uncle’s abode, at Kinfairlie,” Evangeline said. “But larger and of more recent construction, of course.”
“Aye, Kinfairlie is an older keep but a fine one all the same,” Lawrence enthused. “I have fond memories of the chapel there, in the village.”
“Aye, it is a lovely one,” Evangeline agreed. “And of generous proportions. We visited once at the Yule and I was amazed that so many managed to crowd within it for the mass. All the village and those from the keep as well.”
“And your uncle wed at Christmas, did he not?”
“So is the tale,” Evangeline agreed. Ahearn had remained in the hall, no doubt to see horses tended and baggage settled, but Rufus followed them silently. His attention was so sharp that Evangeline felt it like the edge of a knife.
“An arranged marriage?” Lawrence prompted.
“One might see the matter thus. The bride, now my aunt, had been widowed and fled the family of her husband, taking refuge in that very chapel at Kinfairlie on Christmas Eve. Aunt Madeline and Aunt Vivienne found her there, then devised a scheme to ensure her protection, by arranging her match to my uncle Alexander without his awareness.”
“How could that be?” Rufus demanded. “I know the man is not witless.”
“Scarcely that, sir. He savored the wine overmuch, so the tale goes, and the lady joined him abed while he slumbered, at the insistence of my two aunts. They sought to avenge themselves against Uncle Alexander for his arrangement of their matches by making one for him. In the morning, my uncle had no honorable choice but to wed the lady who had shared his bed.” She smiled at Lawrence. “There is a match that began inauspiciously and blossomed from admiration to love.”
“But their path did not run true,” Lawrence said with a shake of his finger. “Did Alexander not disguise himself as a mummer at some point? I remember only part of the tale.”
Rufus choked. “As a mummer?”
“Aye,” Evangeline said, enjoying his disapproval more than she knew she should have done. “The new bride was abducted by her former husband’s kin. As she was secured within their keep at Tevotdale, my uncle and his brothers disguised themselves as a troop of mummers to gain access to that keep and save the lady.” Evangeline smiled. “I wish I had been there. Uncle Alexander has the most wondrous singing voice, and though he can be encouraged to sing the mummer’s song on occasion, I should have liked to see the entire play of Galcagus against the Black Knight.”
“And he sang with his face darkened by soot,” Lawrence said, chortling. “Dressed in rags that he might not be recognized.”
Rufus made a sound behind them that was not complimentary.
“Precisely,” Evangeline agreed. “I am certain he was most entertaining. My uncle Malcolm was also part of that expedition and sang the part of the Black Knight himself.”
“Indeed?” Lawrence was vastly entertained by this.
Rufus sputtered. “But Alexander Lammergeier is the Laird of Kinfairlie, and so he was even then. How could he so demean himself and his title?”
“For the sake of his beloved, of course,” Lawrence chided gently.
“And Malcolm was heir to Ravensmuir even then,” Evangeline added. “Though it was but a ruin in those days, by my understanding.”
Rufus’ expression made his disdain clear.
“We have never been overly concerned with decorum,” Evangeline informed him, savoring his disapproval. Truly, she could not resist the opportunity to vex him further. He might as well know the manner of family he meant to join. “I suppose that is the inevitable result when one’s forebears made their fortune in the trade of religious relics.”
Rufus’ eyes widened. “Surely you jest.”
“Nay, my own grandmother, for whom I am named, disguised herself and seduced a thief to steal back a relic rightfully belonging to Inverfyre. Gawain Lammergeier had stolen it from Inverfyre and he subsequently became her husband and my grandfather.”
“It took an intrepid lady to steal the heart of that scoundrel,” Lawrence said with satisfaction. “I remember him well.”
“Indeed, sir. They were a remarkable couple.” The pair beamed at each other while Rufus strove to regain his composure.
“Surely your kin are not all so notorious as this?” Rufus asked. “Surely they do notallshow a complete disregard for convention?”
“Most of them do,” Evangeline said calmly, then ticked them off with her fingers. “Uncle Alexander has seven siblings, though he is the eldest. Aunt Madeline’s match was arranged by him to a Welsh traitor and outlaw, though truly, one must acknowledge that Rhys bought Madeline’s hand fairly at auction, and that thanks to the interference of my aunt Rosamunde.” She smiled at Rufus. “Rosamunde shares no blood with us, but was a foundling adopted by my parents.”
“Does she still have your grandfather’s ship?” Lawrence asked, his interest avid.
Evangeline nodded. “Some might call her a pirate, to be sure. I call her Aunt.”
