Page 5 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

"Seventy pounds, seven shillings, and sixpence," said John crisply.

Will nearly choked on his teeth.

"Um, huh," he said, coughing into his sleeve. "Very well. I shall have it sent along in due course. In the meantime, pray take this note as proof of intent. And once again, I am very sorry."

The wind out of his sails, John took the parchment meekly. Perhaps he was not expecting such an easy victory. Under normal circumstances, Will would have bargained a little further, asked a few more questions. But right then, he was all fought out. Having just returned from battle, he had precious little energy left for engaging in more. Especially not with tailors, no matter how glorified they might be.

It just was not worth his energy or reputation—both of which were being successfully ripped to shreds by his younger brother.

"Well, ah, thank you," said John, with a conciliatory nod. "And I will bid you good day, sir," he said, smiling. As he turned to go, Will could not escape the feeling that he had somehow just been swindled.

"Good day, John," said Will miserably, waiting for the door to shut. Only when he was sure he was gone did he stand up.

His temper at boiling point, Will paced the chamber. At every turn, he glanced about, poking and prodding at the furnishings as if searching for something. Sure enough, there was a rustling from the corner. Moments later, the ottoman opened, and up popped Trenton.

"Is it safe?" whispered Trenton, his whey-face looking especially pale that afternoon. He clambered out of the box, dusting himself down. Will noted that he had yet another new silk doublet.

Fury building, Will snapped, "Safe?"

He thumped Trenton in the ear. Immediately, he fell.

"Safe? From him? Or me?" Will asked, as Trenton pulled himself up, rubbing his ear. "Or even from yourself? Because I do not know the answer to that question, Brother!"

Trenton blinked, his watery green eyes watching Will uncertainly. Will struggled hard to keep his temper in check.

"Seventy pounds, Trenton!" he yelled.

Trenton eyed him unsurely. His long fingers struggled with his chaperon, which was unraveling all over.

"Seventy pounds for a palfrey?" he said, incredulous.

Will snapped. "A destrier, Trenton. Did you not notice what you were riding?"

Trenton pulled a frown. "Is that what he told you?" he said, smirking. "That poor mare? A destrier?"

And to Will's deep irritation, Trenton fell to laughter.

"Zooks, Brother, he has taken you for a total lubber. Seventy pounds for a palfrey! Poor thing looked midget bitten. I'd value it as much as a three-legged ass."

Will's temper did not improve. "That's not the point," he cried, although, actually, it might well have been. The strong suspicion that he might just have been hoodwinked did not help repair his humor one bit.

"The fact is, once again, our family name has been dragged through the mud."

"Rather through the pond, in this case, Brother, what ho...har har!" smirked Trenton.

Will stared incomprehensibly at Trenton before suddenly swinging at him again. This time he missed, with Trenton darting under the bureau and refusing to move.

"Get out of there! Get out of there and answer me this. How are you going to repay me seventy pounds? And moreover, restore your reputation in London Town?" Will hissed.

He could not help it. He was totally beside himself. Nothing set him off quite like Trenton did. For a few moments, he lost control, kicking blindly at the table legs. He was so lost in his own fury that he did not hear the creaking of the study door.

"William!"

His mother's voice snapped him right out of himself. Horrified, Will jumped around.

"Mother," he said coolly as, finally, Trenton came out.

"William, Trenton, what is the meaning of this? I can hear your voices down the hall."