‘Do you think he’ll be well enough to speak with us once he’s clean and dry?’ Jennifer asked, helping herself to a slice of what looked a little like fudge.
The housekeeper’s face softened as she shook her head in a complete about turn. ‘He’s fair puckled, the puir wee bairn. Ah reckon ye’ll nae get any sense frae him until the morn.’
‘Do you have someone who can sit with him?’ asked Felicity.
‘Aye, dinnae fash yersel m’lady. Ah’ll sit wi’ him maself.’
‘That’s indeed kind of you, Mrs. Darroch,’ Jennifer smiled as she sipped gratefully at her tea. ‘By the way, what is this exactly?’ She held up the large piece of fudge she’d been nibbling on.
The housekeeper chuckled. ‘Tablet, m’lady. Ye’ll certainly hae more aboot yer wi’ a bit o’ that in yer belly.’
‘It’s delicious,’ Jennifer enthused, taking a large bite.
‘Aye, an’ especially good if yer partial tae holes in yer teeth,’ Malcolm interrupted drily.
‘I think we may be better to delay forming a plan of action until the morning when we can possibly get some sense out of the lad.’ Peter’s tone made it perfectly clear that he did not intend to allow MacFarlane’s evil practices to continue. Malcolm stared at the Viscount for a second then nodded his head reluctantly. ‘I’ll pen a letter to my father,’ Peter conceded. ‘If the messenger changes horses, I would expect a reply within a sennight.’
Malcolm gave a rueful chuckle. ‘Ah ken yer yer father’s son, ma lord, but Nicholas would ne’er forgive me if I let anythin’ happen to ye.’
Peter turned to Brendon. ‘Well, Galbraith, I think we’ve established that you’re a man of character, and I’d very much like your assistance with this unpleasant matter. To that end, I’d like Gifford to begin your employment immediately…’ He paused, then added, ‘I know we haven’t discussed what your duties will be as steward of Caerlaverock, but I trust Gifford will get to that once we’ve put this unsavoury problem to bed.’
Brendon felt relief swamp him, so much so that he almost sagged back into his chair. He hadn’t realised quite how anxious he was. He swallowed, nodded his head, and stood up. ‘Ah ken ye willnae regret yer decision, ma lord.’ Then, giving a small bow, added, ‘Until the morra.’ He turned to his father who was busy making short work of what was left of the shortbread and tablet.
‘It’s time we be leaving, Da. Will ye gie yer thanks tae his lordship for not throwin’ yer out on yer eejit ear?’
On hearing his name, Dougal hurriedly broke the last piece of tablet in two, shoved one half in his pocket and gave the other to Flossy who was looking up at him adoringly. Finally, he offered a muttered, ‘Thank ye.’ Then lifting the little dog off his lap with a sniff he added, ‘Ye be a braw wee dog. I ken ye cannae help whayer maister is,’ before plonking her onto the Reverend’s lap and climbing to his feet.
Augustus Shackleford hmphed and muttered, ‘Aside from her having a peculiar partiality for chuckleheaded, bony kneed men in a deuced skirt.’
‘What have you done with your dog?’ Jennifer asked Brendon abruptly before another argument could erupt.
‘What dog?’ Peter frowned.
As soon as her brother spoke, Jennifer realised her mistake. There had been no dog with Brendon when he’d come to her rescue with Peter. She felt herself begin to colour up. Hot headed, she might be, but she’d never been a good liar.
To her surprise, the new steward came to her rescue. ‘Did ye see Fergus frae yer bedchamber?’ he asked pointedly. ‘Ah thought it best tae leave him ootside. He’d hae cleared the table wi’oot breakin’ a sweat.’
Jennifer nodded gratefully. ‘So his name is Fergus? It suits him.’
Brendon turned back to Peter. ‘He’ll nae cause any bother,’ he assured the Viscount.
‘There have always been dogs in our family,’ Peter replied nonchalantly. ‘As you can see, my grandfather has Flossy and before that a foxhound called Freddy. My uncle too has a three-legged mutt he named Nelson. And that’s just for starters. I can’t remember all the names of my aunts’ and cousins’ furred companions.’ He gave a smiling shrug. ‘We’re a large family.’
At the Viscount’s words, Brendon found himself beset by an abrupt longing so acute, it nearly took him to his knees. What must it be like to be part of a large family? Turning hastily away from the table, he started towards the door. ‘Are ye wi’ me, Da?’
As Dougal gave one last scowl towards the Reverend, Petercleared his throat and said, ‘Before you go, just one more thing, Mr. Galbraith. Perhaps you could tell me how you managed to gain entrance to the house without anyone seeing you?’
Clearly Peter Sinclair was speaking to his father. Brendon’s heart sank as he turned back. All eyes were on Dougal enquiringly. The elderly Scot had the grace to look uncomfortable as he fidgeted with his cap.
‘Ah foond a door.’ He waved in the vague direction he supposed said door to be and darted a furtive glance towards Gifford who’d gone a little pale. ‘Ah saw twa lasses come oot o it – ah reckon they was emptyin’ the … err... ye ken, the err…whateverdoon the jaw-hole, if yer understan’ ma meanin’.’ He stopped, tapped his nose and nodded towards the ladies. ‘Ah sneakt in after they’d gaun.’
Dougal felt, rather than saw Gifford’s relieved stance and knew he wouldn’t be using that entrance again. Still, nae matter, he had one ower the old bampot now. He looked over at the old steward and gave a brief sly wink over Peter Sinclair’s head as the Viscount turned to request the door be locked at all times to prevent any further unwanted visitors.
Chapter Nine
Finn stared incredulously up at the window. It was the first time he’d ever slept in a real bed and the only time he couldeverremember waking up past dawn. Sitting up, he looked down at hiscleannightshirt, then he held his hands in front of his face, spread his fingers and marvelled. Not one spec of dirt. If he was being honest, looking at them actually made him feel a bit uncomfortable – as though they weren’t really his.
A tantalising smell suddenly invaded his nostrils. Putting his hands down, he leaned forward and peered at the only other piece of furniture in the room – an old trunk positioned at the end of the bed. On top of it was a hunk of bread and even a piece of cheese. It was the bread he’d smelled and the freshness of it made his mouth water.
