He certainly didn’t relish the swim back to the edge of the loch and appreciated the long walk back to the ramshackle tower he and his father called home even less.
By the time he finally crawled into bed, there were only a couple of hours of darkness left. The midges would soon be abroad again. He had three hours at best before Dougal would be shaking him awake.
Closing his eyes, Brendon felt Fergus jump up beside him and sleepily shifted to make room. Seconds later both the wolfhound and master were sound asleep.
∞∞∞
‘You look like you didn’t get to the deuced privy in time,’ the Reverend scoffed as he watched Dougal hobble towards him.
‘Tha’s summat ye’d be familiar wi’ ah’m guessin’ wi all that cloth ower yer britches. ‘specially when ye get the back door trots.’
Reverend Shackleford gritted his teeth but did not rise to the bait. ‘If we’re to make MacFarlane believe you’ve got a bad leg,you’ve got to favour it like so.’
He limped convincingly across towards the old Scot who narrowed his eyes. ‘Ah cannae help it if ye Sassenach God wallopers be better at bamboozlin’ than we simple folk.’
‘Simple as in mutton-headed,’ the Reverend muttered under his breath.
Fortunately, after a few more turns around the study. Dougal’s limp looked sufficiently realistic.
‘Hae ye got the letter fer us tae show the MacFarlane?’
‘It’s in my pocket,’ Augustus Shackleford answered, patting his cassock.
‘Aye, well dinnae ye lose it, else we’ll be haein a dirt nap.’
Before the Reverend could respond, there was a knock on the study door, and seconds later it opened to reveal Peter and Brendon. Both men stepped inside and carefully shut the door before speaking.
‘Have you gentlemen got your story straight?’ Peter asked.
‘Aye, enough tae fool the MacFarlane ah reckon since awbody ken’s he be off his heid.’
Peter nodded. ‘Dougal, Gifford has left your favourite entry point unlocked, so I suggest you leave now. If anyone sees you, the fact that you’re alone should register.’ He turned towards the Reverend. ‘Grandfather, are you certain you wish to do this?’
‘Well, now, that’s the first time anyone’s deuced well asked me. And just what will you do, lad, if I say no?’ Peter had the grace to look a little shamefaced.
‘Dinnae fash yerself,’ Dougal interrupted, picking up his bag, ‘yer grandda be haein a high ol’ time, nae matter what he tells ye.’
The Reverend glared at the grinning Scot. ‘I reckon you’ve adeuced maggot in your head,’ he declared with a sniff.
Dougal simply winked as he headed towards the door, leaving the clergyman gritting his teeth.
‘Ye hae ma thanks,’ interrupted Brendon as the door shut behind his father. ‘Nae only fer spendin’ more an a few hours wi’ ma bampot o’ a da, but fer helpin’ tae rescue the poor bairns.’
Reverend Shackleford hmphed before declaring gruffly, ‘The Almighty’s made it more than clear the children are the reason He brought me here, and in truth, I’m more than happy to be throwing a rub in the way of that varmint MacFarlane.’
He turned to his grandson. ‘Dougal was right. There is no need to trouble yourself on my account. The Lord knew what he was about. Much longer with only Agnes for company and I’d likely have ended up addled.’ He sighed and picked up his bag. ‘I just wish Percy was here…’
Peter touched his grandfather’s shoulder. ‘Just think of the story you’ll have to tell him when you return to Blackmore.’
The Reverend patted the Viscount’s hand and chuckled. ‘I reckon one of Mary’s mutton pies and a night of free ale’ll be waiting for me down at the Red Lion too.’
‘The cart be ootside,’ Brendon explained. ‘Gifford hae let it be known in the kitchen that he be takin’ ye tae hae a look roond the estate. Once ye meet up with ma da, Gifford’ll come back wi’oot ye. It’ll be dark so naebodie’ll see ye be missin’.’
‘Won’t the servants wish to know where I am when I don’t come down for dinner?’ the Reverend asked.
‘Och, we’ll jus say ye be ill in yer bed. If they think ye be boak, they’ll nae come near ye.’
‘Just leave me to starve?’ the clergyman asked, unaccountably miffed.
