“Swans aren’t burnt!” Cole grew more indignant. “Your hair is black too.” He tugged hard at one of her ringlets as if to verify the accusation, and Bella burst into tears.
“Come now,” Juliet admonished softly if sternly. “That’s hardly the behavior of a gentleman, even a wee one.”
“Sorry, Mam.” He looked penitently at Juliet and then at Bella. “Sorry, Sister.”
“I do believe a nap is in order,” Loveday said. “But first a nursery tea.”
In a half hour they’d washed and gathered at the low table assigned for the task. The windows of the makeshift nursery were open wide, and the sun seemed to have melted the rainbow, for it had vanished.
Juliet said grace and the twins practiced their best manners, passing a plate of crumpets and a small bowl of ripe summerhouse strawberries. Nurse, usually hovering, had been given a leave of absence to visit her ailing sister in Aberdeen, and Juliet wondered if she’d return, having been scandalized by the ... well, Buchanan scandal. A young maidservant from the nearest village had taken her place, at least for the time being. Beatrice was as jolly as Nurse was dour.
Bella yawned and Cole followed suit, as if sleepiness could be as easily caught as a cold. They’d stopped asking “Where’s Da?” to Juliet’s mingled relief and dismay. Children had that rare ability to live solely in the present, and for the moment that consisted of mostly milk tea and sugared pastries.
Beatrice soon entered, smiling. She whisked away the dishes and then the twins shortly thereafter while Loveday and Juliet went downstairs.
“I suppose we should keep indoors. No walking about in the garden or riding out.” Loveday went to a window. “Your new guard is certainly vigilant. And elusive. I didn’t even notice him following us on the drive from Glasgow.”
“He’s a fine horseman.” Juliet joined her at the glass. “And one of Edinburgh’s best private investigators.”
“Ah, those enigmatic men who court crime.”
Juliet sighed. “You make it sound more romantic than nefarious.”
Loveday turned away from the window. “What did Tennant do with your first guard?”
“Returned him to the investigation regarding Leo Tate.”
“I pray Mr. Tate reappears unharmed. You lost quite an ally, and the court an expert witness. But we mustn’t lose hope. I find meaning in the double rainbow today, a special significance.”
Hope? Juliet had forgotten what it felt to be hopeful. “For some time now it seems I’ve been fighting the darkness ... and the darkness is winning.”
“What do you mean?”
“From the first I sensed something awry with Euan. Hard as marble, he reminded me of Leith in his darker moments. Niall is entirely different. I see Leith and Euan as similar, their many choices hardening or softening them, decision by decision, depending on which has the upper hand. A contest between good and evil, if you will.”
“And Euan had chosen the darkness. A world of selfishness and greed and far more.”
Juliet put a hand to her head unwittingly. How had it all come to this? When a brother turned against a brother—or, in this case, two brothers. It had all the makings of a Shakespearean tragedy. Or at least a sonnet.
For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
63
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
William Wordsworth
The next day Juliet awoke in one of Lamb Hill’s bedchambers, her first thought always of Leith.
She slipped from the bed to her knees, praying till she heard the house waking around her. Forcing herself to have tea and toast, she began another letter to Aunt Damarus, trying to be optimistic and inviting her to visit them if there wasn’t to be a war.Thatwas truly a stretch. Since Leith’s detention, war with the colonies had been the farthest thing from her mind, even if it was on everyone else’s.
After donning a simple linen dress, she joined Loveday and the twins in the summerhouse to check the progress of the pineapples and melons, then her sister showed her the stillroom. Of painted white brick, the chamber boasted enormous windows and more cupboards than one could count, a lovely hearth at one end large enough to stand inside of, and even an oven. Juliet was taken aback by the beauty of so simple a space.
Loveday looked right at home. “Niall has been calling mehis stillroom queen, and I plan to be quite happy here, filling the shelves with jams and jellies, vinegars, spices and herbs, perfumes and cosmetics, and the like.”
“What’s that?” Juliet asked, pointing to a contraption that the twins were examining in a corner.
“An ancient seventeenth-century device to distill cordial waters. I cannot wait to try it.” Loveday began bustling about.
