‘Aye,’ he answered. ‘The beast will nae be apart frae me fer long.’
Against her will, Jennifer found herself intrigued. ‘Have you had him long?’ she asked.
‘Since he was whelpt,’ Brendon answered, the fondness clear in his voice. ‘Would hae deid otherwise.’
‘He looks very fierce,’ Jennifer retorted, ‘though clearly Flossy wasn’t afraid of him.’
‘He’s a big bairn,’ Brendon answered with a chuckle. ‘Right now he’s ootside in the courtyard wi’ Finn.’
‘He won’t run away?’ Jennifer asked anxiously, half rising out of her chair.
‘The dog or the boy?’ Brendon asked with a devastating smile. She stared at him wordlessly. ‘Ma guess is nane o the twa. Ah reckon they both like their stomach too much.’ Jennifer found herself smiling back, and for the slightest second, everything aside from the two of them disappeared.
‘Flossy!If you’re cavorting with that damned Casanova again, you’ll spend the rest of the day in the deuced stables.’
Her grandfather’s booming voice interrupted the fleeting moment and both she and Brendon turned to watch the Reverend stomp past the window.‘Thunder an’ turf, Flo, you’re nought but a deuced lightskirt.’The Reverend yelled his oft repeated admonishment as he tried to grab hold of the little dog while she continued to caper round the wolfhound’s legs.
‘Ah think ah’d better gie him a hand,’ Brendon commented drily, as the Reverend passed the window for the second time, this time going the opposite way.
Climbing to his feet, the steward gave her a quick bow, just as her grandfather yelled,‘if you want to kick up a lark with some mongrel, you could at least choose one the same deuced size as you.’Brendon and Jennifer stared at each other for a second, then both burst out laughing at exactly the same moment.
‘Go,’ Jennifer chortled as her grandfather passed the window a third time, ‘I think Grandpapa might be in danger of an apoplexy.’
After a few moments, she watched through the window as Brendon ordered Fergus tosit. Fortunately the wolfhound didn’t actually do so on top of his diminutive would-be paramour. With a gruff, ‘Thank you,’ the Reverend picked his errant dog up and minutes later appeared in the breakfast room.
‘Having fun, Grandpapa?’ Jennifer asked with a grin. She couldn’t for the life of her have kept a straight face.
The Reverend narrowed his eyes but contented himself with a small grunt.
‘By the way, who is thisCasanovayou mentioned?’ Jennifer went on mischievously, knowing full well who her grandfather had been referring to, having secretly read the libertine’s autobiography. (Another book from Aunt Pru’s lending library).
The Reverend did what he always did when he didn’t like the subject of the conversation – he changed it.
‘Has that old cully in a skirt turned up with Galbraith this morning?’
‘Grandfather! That really isn’t very charitable of you, especially considering you’re a man of God, but if you’re referring to Dougal Galbraith - then no, I don’t believe he’s accompanied his son this morning.’
‘It would take a deuced saint to be charitable to that bag of bones,’ muttered the Reverend, helping himself to some breakfast.
‘Well, in fairness, you did rather loom up on him unexpectedly, and Gifford mentioned there were no candles alight in that particular passageway.’ She picked up her tea and took a sip. ‘And anyway, how was it you came upon Dougal Galbraith? What were you doing lurking in an unlit corridor? I thought you’d decided on a nap after the journey?’ Jennifer eyed her grandfather suspiciously.
‘I was simply bringing succour to those less fortunate than ourselves,’ Reverend Shackleford protested.
‘Why on earth were you bothering the servants?’ Jennifer frowned. ‘Please tell me you weren’t lecturingthemon the evilsof debauchery, avarice and wrath? Andsurelynot sloth?’
Augustus Shackleford drew himself up. ‘You may mock, child, but I’ll have you know, I spent a very rewarding half an hour discussing the finer points of Proverbs, Chapter fifteen, Verse twenty seven…’The Reverend winced internally at the plumper – well, half plumper. The servant he spoke to may very well have mentioned that particular passage for all he knew, and anyhow, the fellow had certainly found their conversation very rewarding.
Jennifer bit her lip. It was easy to think of her grandfather as totty headed, but she had no wish to hurt his feelings. And his heart was in the right place – most of the time. ‘Forgive me, Grandpapa,’ she said earnestly. ‘I spoke out of turn – a rather large failing of mine as you’re obviously well aware. I have no doubt you have many insights to offer the servants – after all, think how much you taught me on our journey here?’
The Reverend gave a slightly mollified, ‘hmph.’ Mayhap he’d been worrying unduly and was a better advocate for the Almighty than he’d thought. And in truth, if Jennifer had received her outspokenness from anybody, it was most definitely him…
‘Perhaps you will be well positioned to bring succour to the poor unfortunate children like the boy we found yesterday, who’ve been used so cruelly?’ Jennifer went on. ‘After all, we are intending to rescue them and put a stop to the MacFarlane Clan’s barbaric practices are we not?’
Chapter Ten
‘So, how exactly did ye come to be working in the mine, Finn?’ Malcolm asked, taking care to keep his voice as genial as possible.
The boy stared at the faces around him and gave a small cough. The bonnie lady in the green dress was the one who’d first discovered him in the boat. The big man, the one who carried him back. But those two were not in charge. The younger Maister was the one in charge, even if he wasn’t the one asking the questions. Mrs. Darroch said the Maister was the son of aDuke. Finn could hardly imagine what a Duke might look like, but his son was very handsome. Andclean. He had stern features, but Finn could tell he laughed easily. Would that he’d had the same insights about the MacFarlane’s arse-kisser when the bastart had come sniffing around the village.
