As soon as she left the kitchen, Jennifer went in search of her brother. The fact that they had two MacFarlanespiesin the house changed everything. Though from what she’d heard neither seemed very enamoured of the idea. Mayhap they could be persuaded to change sides.
What was she thinking – changing sides? They weren’t at war with the MacFarlane clan. Why on earth would the Chieftain put two of his own into Caerlaverock?
She shook her head, arriving at the study door. She gave a brisk knock, then opened it without waiting for a summons. Peter was not her father. To her surprise, Brendon Galbraith was sitting at the desk alone. ‘Where is my brother?’ she asked, more sharply than she intended.
The steward got to his feet; his expression impassive. ‘His lordship hae gaun tae the library wi’ Malcolm tae look fer another map o’ the loch.’
‘Oh.’ Jennifer stopped, unsure what to say next. Their encounter the day before had put an end to their former easy banter.
‘He shouldnae be long,’ Brendon went on, his voice a study in politeness. ‘De ye abide here fer him ma lady? Would ye like any tea?’ Jennifer thought for a second, then nodded her head and sat down, watching furtively as his lithe form strode across theroom to pull the bell. For all that he was so very large, there was also a grace about him. Like one of those panthers she’d read about in her father’s library. She found herself colouring up at the direction of her thoughts. Was it hot in here?
Abruptly, the door opened to reveal Peter and Malcolm, and hard on their heels, Mrs. Darroch. ‘May we have some tea?’ Jennifer requested with a smile, ‘And of course some of Mrs. Allen’s wonderful shortbread.’
‘At once, ma lady.’ The housekeeper beamed at Jennifer’s use of the cook’s name, giving the young woman a sense of warmth and an inkling of why her mother took such care to learn the names of all of Blackmore’s staff.
‘How did your letter composing go?’ Peter asked, laying the map in his hand onto the desk.
‘Felicity has it,’ Jennifer answered. ‘I believe it will be just the thing. But that is not why I’m here.’
‘Has something happened, lass?’ Malcolm asked, sensing her unease.
Jennifer took a deep breath and told them everything that had happened since she went back to retrieve her shawl.
Peter swore softly. ‘You’re sure they mentioned MacFarlane?’ At Jennifer’s nod, he added, ‘And you’ve seen their faces?’
‘I didn’t actually see their faces while I was listening to them talk, but I saw a kitchen maid and a footman exchange glances while I was in the kitchen. I am certain they were the two whose conversation I overheard.’
‘Why the devil would MacFarlane put two of his clan to work at Caerlaverock? Is there already bad blood between us I’m not aware of.’ Peter directed his question to Brendon.
‘Nae that ah’m aware,’ Brendon answered, ‘but Gifford would kenmore.’
‘Do ye wish me tae go look fer him?’ Malcolm offered. Peter nodded and the Scot disappeared through the door, just as the maid arrived with a tray of tea and shortbread.
‘Please leave it on the side table,’ Jennifer ordered. ‘I will do the pouring.’
‘Verra well, ma lady.’ The maid bobbed and curtsied and went back through the door, closing it behind her. Swiftly getting to her feet, Jennifer checked there was no one lurking on the other side. Truly, this whole situation was making her most mistrustful.
‘I do not think the two servants are aware of our plan to rescue the children from the mine,’ she clarified, going to the tray. ‘They know of course that Finn has come from the mine, and that we’re likely aware there are other children being misused by Alistair MacFarlane, but more than anything, they sounded scared.’ She handed Brendon a dish of tea.
‘Anyone wi’ a pulse be afeared o’ the MacFarlane,’ the steward commented drily.
‘From what they were saying, neither servant has any intention of acting rashly. I believe they’ll wish to know exactly what we intend to do with Finn before they act.’
‘Could we turn them to our side?’ Peter asked. Jennifer couldn’t help but note his grimace at his choice of words, echoing her own sense of disbelief earlier.
She looked over at Brendon. There was no indication the steward thought the words strange, but then mayhap Clan wars were still common in the Highlands. She gave a slight shudder. It was a horrible thought. The last thing her father would want was for them to be embroiled in an outright war with their neighbours.
At that moment, a brief knock at the door heralded the arrivalof Malcolm and Gifford. Pouring them both some tea, Jennifer repeated what she’d overheard. When she’d finished, the old steward sighed. ‘It dinnae shock me, ma lady. Ye cannae trust the MacFarlane further than ye can throw the bampot.’
‘Whatever happens, we dare not start a war,’ Peter agonised, echoing Jennifer’s concern.
‘Ye’ll nae be startin’ anythin’, ma lord. Whatever action we take, ye have tae stay oot o’ it. Ye and ma lady both.’
‘But we have Finn,’ Peter protested. ‘Those two servants are fully aware of that.’
‘Aye, and they ken ah be workin’ fer ye. We dinnae think they hae told the MacFarlane yet. It be likely naither can write, an it be a guid walk tae their Clan home.’ He shrugged and added, ‘Ah doot they wish any harm tae come tae the lad. Jus’ because they be MacFarlane Clan, dinnae mean they agree wi’ their Chief’s actions.’
‘They did seem to value their positions here,’ Jennifer interrupted.
