The Sherbrooke Series Novels 1-5 (109 page)

“I don’t know, but I will find out. In the meantime, as you know, Robbie has promised to keep his men in control as well as himself. He’s promised to speak to his father and to listen to him, really listen. Don’t mistake me, Joan, if he attempts more violence against any of us or against any of our people, I will kill him. He knows it. Perhaps he will seek to be reasonable now.”

“Serena is his sister. It makes more sense that she would have accused you to him.”

He looked amused and vain as a very young man with his first compliment from a lady. “Oh no. Serena loves me. At least she’s told me so countless times, and all those times since I married you. I’m also seeing that she returns to her father.”

“Goodness, the castle will be bare! Please, Colin, it isn’t necessary. Serena is an odd duck, perhaps daft, but harmless. If she tries to kiss you again, though, perhaps I will have to speak to her.”

Colin laughed. “She doesn’t realize how ferocious you are, how possessive of me you are. I should tell her that she isn’t safe around you if she touches me
again. She should request that I send her back to her father. Now that you’re here for the children, there’s no need for either of those ladies. Do you agree?”

“I quite agree,” Sinjun said.

“Everything is happening now,” he continued after a moment. “The sheep will be arriving within the next two days—not sheep to force our people off their lands, just enough to provide enough raw wool and milk. And the cattle, naturally, enough for all our people. I have also called a meeting of all my crofters and tenants. My proposition is that they will go from one croft to the next. I will furnish all the supplies and equipment we need. We will make all necessary repairs, from roofs to fences to bed frames. There will be no more want or uncertainty for the Kinross clan. Thank you, Joan.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, and swallowed. He’d spoken to her like his partner. “Why are you telling me all this?”

He was silent for a moment. He took a spoonful of porridge and chewed thoughtfully. “It’s your money that allows all this. It’s only proper you know its disposition.”

She felt a streak of disappointment, for his voice was cool and dismissive, but she managed to say calmly enough, “Tell me what to do. The household is shaping up quite nicely, but there is still much repair to be done. I also need gardeners.”

“Yes, Alex has already filled my ears with what needs to be done outside. I shouldn’t be surprised to find her out there weeding around the rosebushes. She was very impassioned about it. You will speak to Mr. Seton. He will bring men to you to interview. It will all take time, but time is something we now have. The creditors are no longer breathing
down my neck. We are afloat; indeed, we are rowing smartly forward. We will make up that infamous list together quite soon. Now, Douglas and Ryder wish me to take them around and show them what we’re doing. They wish to meet some of our people. Should you like to accompany us?”

She looked at her husband. He was including her. Did he finally understand she wouldn’t steal his box and this was the proof of it? No, probably not. It was her money, as he’d said. He didn’t want her to feel excluded. He was being kind. Blessed hell, but she hated kindness from him; kindness was a bloodless emotion.

“No, not this time,” she said, tossing her napkin on her plate and rising. “I wish to visit with the children, particularly Philip. I owe him an apology, and since he is very much your son, I imagine he will make me grovel before absolving me.”

Colin gave a shout of laughter.

“Also, the wives will want to know what’s happened with MacPherson.”

“I already told them everything at breakfast. Alex was arguing toe to toe with me when she turned green, grabbed her stomach, and sprinted from the room. Douglas sighed and hefted up the basin Mrs. Seton had given him and went after her. Ryder and Sophie were alternately laughing and yelling at each other. They were trying to look interested in all my projects, but failed woefully. Your brothers are charming, Joan, when they’re not trying to kill me.”

She grinned, picturing the scene without difficulty. “How did Aunt Arleth and Serena react? Guilty? Angry?”

“Aunt Arleth said not a word. Serena looked vague. It was Dahling who had all the questions. She wanted to know why you didn’t take
her to confront MacPherson since it was a ladies’ battle. She then asked Serena why her brother was such a bad man. Serena said he hated his angel’s face and thus he cultivated his devil’s soul.”

“It appears I must apologize to her as well. Are you certain Aunt Arleth didn’t look guilty?”

“No, afraid not. Still, I will speak to her privately.”

“I’m still afraid, Colin.”

He rose and strode to the end of the table where she was standing. He stood there beside her, looking down at her. Then he opened his arms. “No one will ever hurt you again,” he said, and pulled her up against his chest. “Dear God, you scared the very devil out of me.”

She nuzzled her face into his throat. “Good,” she said, as she kissed his chin. “You had a great deal of wickedness. A little less won’t serve you ill.”

He laughed, hugged her more tightly, and stood there, holding her. “Do you feel well today?”

“Much better. Just a bit on the weak side.”

“That was from last night. You’ll feel that way nearly every morning from now on.”

She raised her face to kiss him.

“Papa, surely Sinjun doesn’t like to have you pet her at the breakfast table.”

Colin sighed, kissed her lightly on her chin, and released her. He looked down at his son, who stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, a stance just like his father’s.

“What do you want, Philip? Joan was shortly to be on her way to find you. She is quite prepared to give you an abject apology. She is prepared to grovel, to cook you sugared almonds until your teeth rot out. She is quite ready for you to abuse her endlessly, since you are my son.”

For a brief moment Philip managed to look severe, but then he said, “It’s all right, Sinjun. I know you. I doubt you’ll ever change.” Then he turned immediately to his father. “Uncle Ryder asked me if I wanted to visit him and Aunt Sophie and all their children. He says there are more than a dozen now and I would quite enjoy myself. Brandon House is where they all live and it’s right next to his house. Did you know that he saves children, Papa, from all sorts of terrible situations? He becomes their guardian and takes care of them and he loves them. He didn’t say that but I could tell that he does and Uncle Douglas told me that he does. I think it embarrasses him when people think he’s good. Uncle Ryder told me about his brother-in-law Jeremy, who’s at Eton and lame and quite the best fighter he’s seen in a long time. He said Jeremy can also ride like the wind. He said he’d teach me how to fight dirty if it was all right with you. He said I’m nearly the age Jeremy was when he taught him. Please, Papa, can I?”

“Uncle Ryder and Uncle Douglas,” Colin mused aloud. “I’ll tell you what, Philip. I’ll fight dirty with your uncle Ryder and whoever wins will teach you, all right?”

Philip, no fool, said, “Perhaps it would be best if both you and Uncle Ryder taught me how to fight.”

“He should be in the diplomatic service,” Colin said to his wife, hugged his son to him, and continued. “The two uncles and I will discuss all this. You rest, Joan. I will see you later.”

“Oh, Papa, Sinjun is teaching me how to shoot a bow and arrow. But there’s still fencing. MacDuff gave us some beginning lessons, but then he had to leave. You can do that, can’t you?”

“Joan was learning with you?”

“Yes, and I must continue. I can’t let Philip get ahead of me.”

“I didn’t know you were so accomplished.”

He sounded a bit miffed. She cocked her head to one side and grinned. “You sound just like Ryder and Douglas when I happen to outdo them at something. They taught me to shoot, to be an excellent archer, to ride like a veritable Diana, to swim like an—well, never mind. My point is they taught me all the manly sorts of things, but when I prove proficient, they act scandalized.”

“They’re unreasonable, naturally. A man enjoys having his wife don his britches and ride off to do battle with his enemies, leaving him to flounder about with nothing to say, nothing to do.”

“I’ve decided it’s not just a matter of wives. I think it’s just that men must always feel that they are the ones in control.”

“For all your daring, Joan, for all your bravery, for all your passion for my welfare, and your terrifyingly creative mind, you are still weaker than I. Any man, be he brilliant or a half-wit, could hurt you. That’s why you have men. We really are useful creatures. It’s our responsibility to protect our wives and our children.”

“Ha! You know that’s nonsense, Colin. This is no longer medieval times, when robbers roamed the land.”

“Why are you arguing?” Philip asked, looking from her to his father. “Both of you are right. Boys, too, can prove worthwhile in a fight. Didn’t I ride to fetch you, Papa, from Edinburgh? Without me, Joan would have been really ill.”

They looked at each other over Philip’s head. Sinjun grinned. Colin said, “You believe every family member should contribute his bit, eh? Everyone
should have the chance to be a hero once in a while?”

“That would mean even Dahling would get her chance,” Philip said, frowning. “What do you think, Sinjun?”

“I think your father has finally grasped the right straw.”

“Now, Philip, if you will accept Joan’s apology—”

“Her name is Sinjun, Papa. I accept, Sinjun. You’d do anything for Papa, so I suppose I shouldn’t hold it against you.”

“Thank you,” she said humbly. She watched Colin’s left eyebrow go up a good inch; she watched father and son leave the Laird’s Inbetween Room, Colin leaning down to hear what Philip was saying.

She loved him so much it hurt.

Who the devil had told Robert MacPherson that Colin had murdered his wife?

The late afternoon was cool. The sky was clear—Sherbrooke blue, Sophie had remarked to her husband, then kissed him.

Colin had wanted to be alone, for just a little while. He frowned now at the water stain on the book he held in his hand. He could tell that the book had been carefully cleaned, its binding oiled, but the stain had been there a long time and would remain there. She’d cleaned it, of course. And all the other books as well. He’d known that she had, only he hadn’t realized until now that she’d treated each book as a treasure in itself, carefully and with respect. He laid the book down and walked back to his desk. He sat back in his chair, his arms behind his head, and closed his eyes.

He was in his north tower room. He could smell the fresh heather and roses. And the lemon and beeswax. It smelled of his mother, and now he didn’t
feel anger at his wife, he felt profound gratitude. He fancied that before long when he smelled lemon and beeswax, it would be his wife he thought of, not his mother.

I love you.

Colin supposed he’d always known she loved him, though the notion of that sort of emotion upon meeting another person he couldn’t easily credit. On the other hand, she’d taken his side from the very beginning. She’d never wavered in her belief in him. Even when they’d argued, he’d known that she’d die for him if it came to it.

It was humbling.

He was so damned lucky he couldn’t believe it. He’d gotten his heiress. He’d also gotten a lady who was a wonderful mother to his children, a lady who was an excellent wife. Albeit stubborn; albeit much too impulsive.

Just when everything seemed at last to be coming out from behind that awful black cloud, there was an enemy still hidden. He wondered if he should have simply beat the name out of MacPherson. Probably. Joan wouldn’t have held him back at the croft. She probably would have argued with him to hit MacPherson herself.

That made him grin. She was bloodthirsty when it came to his safety. He thought of Aunt Arleth, a woman who’d lost her grip on things, only he hadn’t recognized it in time. Because of his blindness, Joan could have died. He clenched his teeth at the thought. It was quite true, Aunt Arleth had even admitted that the little slut would be better off dead. Then things would return to normal; then she would be in charge again.

But she hadn’t told MacPherson anything. Colin sighed and opened his eyes when he heard footsteps coming up the tower stairs. He recognized
the light step and leaned forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on the iron-studded door.

It was Joan, pink with exertion, her forehead damp with perspiration.

He rose immediately and went to her. “You’re still not back to your Amazon self. Come and sit down for a moment and regain your breath.”

She did as she was bid. “It’s lowering to be puffing about over some simple stairs. Hello, Colin. I haven’t seen you. Are you all right? I wanted to get away from everyone for a while. Did you, as well?”

“Yes, but I’m glad you’re here.”

She drew a deep breath. “I came for a reason.”

“You want to know about Aunt Arleth.”

“Perhaps, but not really. That is, there’s something else, but I don’t think it was Aunt Arleth or you would have hunted me out immediately. No, it’s about something else entirely, but it can wait. I see you’re holding a book.”

He cocked one of those black eyebrows of his, then handed the book to her. “Thank you for trying to mend this book. It was my grandfather’s. He used to read to me from it. It’s Chesterfield’s
Letters to His Son.
I was thinking it was time for me to read the letters on mythology and history to Philip, and I was right.”