‘Haud yer weesht,’ Dougal growled. ‘Yer bein’ an eejit. The MacFarlane hae no love fer Sassenach God botherers, ye ken that. He willnae harm me wi’oot guid reason, but ah cannae say the same fer ye.’
Augustus Shackleford stifled a sudden flare of panic, but before he had a chance to argue, voices sounded from across the yard. Seconds later, their way out of the barn was blocked by four broad-shouldered Highlanders. The clergyman swallowed and took an instinctive step back.
‘Och, it be guid tae see ye, ma lord.’ For the life of him, Reverend Shackleford couldn’t tell which one Dougal was speaking to. They all looked exactly the same to him.
‘Save yer flattery fer them as need it. Hoo be tha’ son o’ yers?’
‘Verra sad ma lord,’ Dougal answered ingratiatingly. ‘Twas ma leg pulled him frae yer employ. As ye can see, it still be painin’ me.’ He did a little hobble for emphasis.
Alistair MacFarlane was possibly the biggest man the Reverend had ever seen. Unlike the others, he hadn’t protected himself from the midges as he’d crossed the yard and both arms were covered in black. He didn’t appear to notice them at all. He walked towards them and looked in the cart. As he did so, the Reverend caught the overripe scent of freshly killed meat and had to fight a sudden urge to cast up his account.
‘Whose grave be ye diggin’?’ he asked nodding towards the tools lying in the bottom of the cart.
‘Nae a grave, ma lord. Tha’s what ah wish’t tae talk tae ye aboot. Dougal gave a toothless smile. The Chieftain didn’t smile back. ‘Me an’ ma acquaintance here be on the trail o’ buried treasure…’
∞∞∞
They spoke little on the walk back up to the house. Jennifer couldn’t help noticing he took care to give her a wide birth. Mayhap he was worried she would throw herself at him again if he came within grabbing distance. In truth, she was content not to force the issue, sensing that to do so would merely drive Brendon further away.
Underneath all the uncertainty, she was bubbling with a deep quiet joy. Despite the shortness of their acquaintance, she felt a deep abiding conviction that Brendon Galbraith was for her. And though he might not have admitted it to himself yet, she believed he felt the same. Currently, however, he could not imagine there was the remotest chance of a happy ending for either of them, and she could almost feel the stubborn Scot withdrawing from her, step by step.
She would simply have to bide her time until the whole dreadful business with Alistair MacFarlane was done with. As soon as the children were safe, she would write to her father.
Once they arrived back at the house, Brendon turned to her and bowed. ‘Ah willnae see ye agin afore this evenin,’ he said carefully. ‘Please dinnae worry aboot yer grandda. Ah swear ah’ll bring him back tae ye safely.’
Jennifer gazed at him silently for a second. ‘I know you will,’ she responded softly at length. ‘Please have a care to your own safety too…’ She paused then whispered, ‘I could not bear it if anything should happen to you.’ Then, abruptly fighting the urge to cry, she bent to pick up Flossy and almost ran towards the front door.
That evening, once she was certain Gifford had returned, Jennifer informed the housekeeper that her grandfather was feeling under the weather and would not be coming down for dinner. ‘Poor man, I think perhaps he’s eaten something that has disagreed with him,’ she added. ‘However, it might be pertinent to advise the servants to stay away from his chamber … just in case. I will see that he has water and then tomorrow, I’ll take him a little breakfast.’
Mrs Darroch nodded, not entirely able to hide her alarm and Jennifer fought the urge to grin as the housekeeper took a surreptitious step back.
Malcolm and Felicity too elected to have dinner in their room, setting the stage for the fictitious sickness to ‘sweep the house’, which left Peter and Jennifer as the only two at the dinner table.
At first, they sat largely in silence, until her brother suddenly put down his knife and fork and asked her if she was missing England and home.
She looked at him in surprise, unsure what had triggered the question. Mayhap he was simply worried about the responsibility that had been so unexpectedly thrust upon him.
‘I love it here,’ she replied simply. ‘It’s quite different from Blackmore – the scenery is wild and somehow calls to one, don’t you think?’
‘It’s certainly beautiful,’ he answered carefully, ‘but I’m not sure I feel the same affinity as you.’ There was a pause before he added, ‘Are you certain your attraction is not due to the presence of a certain newly employed steward?’
Jennifer’s face flamed, much to her chagrin. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ she blustered at length.
‘Come sister, we both know you’re a terrible liar. Do you have feelings for Galbraith?’
Knowing she owed her brother the truth – if not thewholetruth, Jennifer chose her words carefully. ‘I must confess, I feel a certain kinship with him,’ she said cautiously. His snort told her he wasn’t at all convinced by her explanation.
‘Are your feelings reciprocated? You realise that Father will have a hard time considering his suit. Especially since Caerlaverock is so far away from Blackmore.’ He shook his head. ‘And I have no idea what Mother will say.’
Jennifer sagged. ‘He has not said whether he feels anything for me,’ she confessed, ‘but his manner indicates he does.’ She picked up her glass of wine to give herself time to decide what to say next. ‘I think he believes he’s beneath my touch.’
Peter gave another snort. ‘Is he aware that our mother is a vicar’s daughter?’
‘It hasn’t actually come up,’ Jennifer answered drily. ‘And Mama may well be low born, but I think Papa was hoping I would make a good match.’
‘A good match is one that makes you happy,’ Peter countered. ‘I said I thought Father would find it difficult, not that he would forbid it.’ He paused before adding, ‘We are in Scotland after all and strictly speaking, his consent is not actually needed.’
Jennifer stared wordlessly at her brother, her mind awhirl. ‘Mayhap I should not have mentioned that,’ he added ruefully when she did not speak.
