Monty could have chosen anywhere to live, but he’d chosen this quiet spot of Scotland where he didn’t have family or close friends. Indeed, Harry and Monty had come upon each other by chance. Harry had just arrived in Glenfinnan and been riding down the road, and there had been Monty, riding in the opposite direction. He hadn’t hesitated in inviting Harry to stay with him. Harry had asked him why he was in Glenfinnan but Monty had been unusually closed-lipped.
In truth, Harry’s problems were so large, he did not have the luxury of worrying over his friend’s concerns. So he’d let the subject drop.
“I shall be leaving on the morrow,” he said to Monty as he speared a healthy-sized piece of venison for his plate. He shook his head at the servant offering peas. Harry was fond of any food as long as it wasn’t green. “I have appreciated your hospitality.”
“Youcan’tgo,” Monty said.
Harry looked up in surprise. “I must. You know I am here on a mission.”
“Are you certain you have met all the witches in the area? There are quite a few.”
“There aren’t any,” Harry said flatly. He chewedhis food a moment without tasting it. He had no appetite. Food was something he needed for the strength to continue his search. “Well, save for that lonely old woman who lives in a hovel and chatters to herself all day. Crazy Lizzy is her name.” Harry had given her ten pounds. He’d felt sorry for her. “They may look, and smell, like witches, but they are not. The woman I’m looking for is the one who placed the curse on my family. I’m searching for Fenella, or someone connected to her.”
“You carry on about this Fenella as if you believe her still alive, even after hundreds of years.”
“I know she is,” Harry answered. “Some part of her must be alive or the curse would not be as strong as it is.”
“Then you must stay right here in Glenfinnan. This is a very mystical part of Scotland. I think you should stay.” A servant poured ale in Monty’s tankard, and the general reached for it immediately.
Picking up his own glass of sweet cider, Harry shook his head. “I can’t, Monty. My brother is growing weaker. I had a letter from my sister today. We don’t know how much time he has. I must find a way to save him or he will die.”
“Your brother. Yes,” Monty said, his expressionstricken. “I forgot him. Sorry, sorry.” He reached for a piece of venison off his plate and absently began feeding his dogs from the table.
A cold dog nose nudged Harry’s arm. He gave the dog a pet and shooed it away, a bit concerned by Monty’s behavior. His old friend would not forget such a detail as Harry’s purpose for being in Glenfinnan. “Monty, is there something the matter?”
The general drained his tankard, held it for a servant to be refilled, and then motioned him away, saying, “Leave us.” He waited until the door had closed behind the servant before leaning across the table. “I need your help, Chattan. I’ve put off asking since you have concerns of your own, but I’m desperate. I thought when I met you that here was exactly what I needed—a man who can claim any woman he wishes.”
Harry didn’t challenge the description. It was true. Women flocked to him. They always had.
It wasn’t vanity for him to admit that he had looks they liked. It was a statement of fact. God had blessed him with a face and form that was pleasing to the ladies. And he had used them to his own advantage—until he’d set out upon this quest.
Now, he was beginning to wonder how hecould have been so shallow. Of course, he was free of the chains of opium and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a drink. No, that was a lie. He remembered all too well and he hated himself for it.
But he was curious why Monty thought this an asset. Monty was an avowed bachelor, or that was the impression Harry had gained.
“What’s amiss, Monty?”
His friend sat back in his chair. A terrier jumped into his lap. Monty absently petted its head as he said, “I need you to help me attend the Christmas Assembly.”
“A dance?”
Monty nodded vigorously.
Harry shook his head slowly. “I can’t wait around for the dance, Monty. My brother’s life is at stake.”
“The dance is in four days, Chattan. You can wait four days.”
“I don’t remember you eager to attend any dances back when I served under your command,” Harry said. “You usually avoided them.”
“I did,” Monty said. He pushed the dog off his lap and threw the animals another piece of meat. They yapped and snarled over it. “Not my thing.”
“Then why must you attend this dance?” Harryasked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.
“Becauseshewill be there.”
“Who is she?” Harry had to ask, intrigued.
“Lady Ariana Maclean.”
