The Sherbrooke Series Novels 1-5 (111 page)

“First time! You ravaged me three times!”

“Very well. It wasn’t well done of me and I did apologize to you if you’ll recall. Also, if your memory wasn’t completely burned out in your recent pleasure storm, I told you that it wouldn’t ever hurt again, but you refused to believe me. Now you know that I was telling you the truth. I told you this morning that men are useful creatures. We’re good for protection—if you allow us to protect you—and we’re useful at giving you pleasure. Now that you know all about pleasure, why then, should you like to do it again?”

She looked up at him. She looked ready to spit in his face. Her blue eyes were narrowed to slits. She said, “All right.”

He loved her slowly and it lasted longer than three minutes this time, which pleased him. When she twisted and moaned, he closed his eyes against the soul-deep pleasure of it and let his own release take him.

“Admit it, Colin, you have been laughing at me, haven’t you?” she said later as she shifted herself to her side.

“A bit, perhaps. Up my sleeve, for the most part. You were so sincere, so convinced that my body
couldn’t possibly fit with yours. Yes, it was amusing, when it wasn’t painful. You see, I wanted you very much. Ah, perhaps I want you again. What do you think? No, wait, it will be the infamous three times again. Think carefully before you answer, Joan.”

“All right,” she said immediately, and arched up to kiss him.

They were late to dinner. They were more than late. Philpot and Rory were serving blueberry-and-currant tarts when they arrived. Philip and Dahling had already eaten and been duly removed by Dulcie back to the nursery.

Serena, the brothers, and the wives were there. Aunt Arleth was in her room and would remain there until her brother sent a carriage to fetch her home.

Douglas raised an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut. Sinjun wondered at his discretion until she saw his mouth was full with tart.

Ryder’s mouth was full only of wickedness. He sat back in his chair, his hands clasped over his lean belly. His blue eyes gleamed with devilment. “Sinjun, I think you have a look on your pretty face that makes me want to kill Colin. You’re my baby sister. You have no right to look that way, no right to do what you’ve quite obviously done with great abandon.”

“Be quiet,” Sophie said, and stuck the tines of her fork into the back of his hand.

“It’s true,” Douglas said, once he’d swallowed the tart, and prepared to launch his own salvo.

“Don’t you get into it,” Alex said. “She’s a married lady. She’s no longer ten years old.”

“That’s a fact,” Colin said, grinning at his new relatives, kissed his wife’s nose, and seated her in
the countess’s chair. “Actually that’s two facts.”

He strode to the head of the table, eased himself down, raised his wineglass, and said, “A toast. To my wife, a beautiful, quite challenging lady who’s been mired in female confusion and wrong thinking to the point that—”

“Colin! You will be quiet!” Sinjun heaved her soup spoon at him. It fell short since the table was twelve feet long, clattering against a vase of daffodils.

Philpot cleared his throat loudly but no one paid him any heed.

Serena sighed, looked from Colin to Sinjun, and said, “Colin never looked at Fiona or at me like that. It’s not just a man’s lust he’s taken care of, no, it’s something beyond that. He looks like a cat who’s eaten more cream than he deserves. I think he’s very selfish. I hope he vomits up all that cream. I think you’ve quite ruined him, Joan. Philpot, would you please give me some tarts?”

Philpot, poker-faced, gently placed the plate of tarts in front of her.

“I’m relieved he’s beyond lust now,” Ryder said in great good humor to his sister. “You have a witches’ brew, little sister? Perhaps you’ve been sharing that recipe with Sophie here? She is so greedy, so without pity for me, that it requires all my nobility to remain bravely standing in the face of her demands. Regard a man who’s striving with all his might to provide her with another child. She won’t leave me alone. She’s after me constantly. I am safe from her only at the dinner table.”

“Surely she will stab you again if you don’t close your mouth,” Alex said. “I just hope, Sophie, that when you’re with child again, you will turn green and lose your breakfast just once.”

“Oh no,” Sophie said. “Not that, never that.
Besides, I’m much too nice a person to have that happen. I think it’s your husband, Alex. It’s he who makes you sick.”

All three wives were laughing.

Douglas was frowning at his sister-in-law.

Ryder puffed out his chest. “No, Sophie will never know a day’s illness. I will simply forbid her to.”

Alex just shook her head back and forth and said to Sophie, “Sometimes I forget what they’re like. When I’m reminded, why, I realize that life is more than sweet, it’s delicious. It’s even better than those blueberry-and-currant tarts Douglas is gobbling down.”

“Now that you’ve spoken the pure truth,” Douglas said, “I beg you not to run out of here toward the basin Philpot set in the entrance hall.”

“I would that we shift the subject a bit,” Sinjun said.

“Yes,” Ryder said, “now that Douglas and I see that you’re pleased with this man, Sinjun, we will move on to other matters. Douglas and I have given this situation a good deal of thought, Colin. It seems to us that the person who told Robert MacPherson that you’d killed his sister is quite likely the same person who killed her himself.”

“Or
her
self,” Alex said.

“True. But why would anyone want Fiona dead?” Sinjun asked. “And to have Colin there, unconscious by the edge of the cliff, all ready to blame because he couldn’t remember anything. It was a carefully thought-out plan. Serena, do you know of anyone who hated your sister that much? Someone who knew enough about potions and such to erase Colin’s memory?”

Serena looked up from her tart, smiled vaguely at Sinjun, and said in her soft voice, “Fiona was a faithless bitch. I quite hated her myself. I also know
enough about the effects of opium and henbane and the maella plant. I could have done it quite easily.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s go another step,” Douglas said. “Serena, who hated Colin?”

“His father. His brother. Aunt Arleth. Toward the end, Fiona hated him because she was so jealous of him and he didn’t love her. She was even jealous of me, but I never touched you then, Colin. I was very careful.”

Colin went very still. He slowly lowered his fork back onto his plate. He said mildly, belying the pain Sinjun knew he must feel at Serena’s words, “My father didn’t hate me, Serena. He merely had no use for me. My brother was the future laird. I wasn’t important. I understood that as much as I realized it wasn’t right or fair, as much as it hurt me. It would be like Joan and me having a son and disregarding him because Philip is the firstborn.

“As for my brother, why, Malcolm had no reason to hate me, either. He had everything. If there was any hate to be festered, why, I should be the one brimming with it. As for Aunt Arleth, she loved my father and hated her sister, my mother. She wanted my father to marry her after my mother died, but he didn’t. It’s true she dislikes me amazingly and believed my brother was a prince among men, but I doubt even she understands why. It was as if she feared me, perhaps, because I was also a son, a possible future earl.”

“I don’t hate you, Colin.”

“Thank you, Serena. I truly don’t know how Fiona felt about me before she died. I pray she didn’t hate me. I never wished her ill.”

“I would never hate you, Colin, never. I only wish I had been the heiress. Then you wouldn’t have had
to go to London and marry her.”

“Ah, but I did and there’s an end to it. And you, my dear, will go to Edinburgh to live with your father. You will go to parties and balls. You will meet many nice men. It is for the best, Serena.”

“All adults say that when they wish to justify what they’re doing to someone else.”

“You’re an adult,” Sinjun said. “Surely you don’t wish to remain here at Vere Castle.”

“No, you’re right. Since Colin won’t make love to me now, I might as well leave.” With those words, she rose from her chair, not waiting for Rory to assist her, and, oblivious of the stunned silence, wafted her way from the room.

“You have very odd relatives, Colin,” Douglas said.

“What about your mother, Douglas, and how she treats me?”

“All right, Alex. Most families have strange members,” Douglas said, grinning at his wife. “Serena . . . I don’t know, Colin. She seems fey, if you know what I mean. Not daft, not really, just fey.”

“Yes, as if both her feet weren’t quite planted firmly on the grass. She’s always fancied the notion that she was a witch, and she’s dabbled with her plants for many years now.”

“But you don’t believe she would kill her own sister. And drug you so you would take the blame?”

“No, I don’t, Joan. But as Douglas says, Serena is odd. She always has been. Fiona adored her though, insisted that she live here with us, though I wasn’t overly pleased about it.”

“Did she try to kiss you in front of her sister?”

“No, Alex, she didn’t. That began after her sister died. When I brought Joan back, she tried to waylay me behind every door.”

“It would be nice to have some clarity here,” Douglas said.

“Perhaps,” Sinjun said, “we should call Dahling. She has opinions on everything and everyone.”

“Joan,” Colin said suddenly, frowning down the table at her, “you haven’t eaten and it doesn’t please me. I must insist that you regain your strength. Philpot, please serve her ladyship a noble plate.”

At that, both brothers and both wives looked at each other, then burst into merry laughter. Colin blinked; then, to Sinjun’s surprised delight, he flushed, again.

Colin, a celibate for too many weeks, had no difficulty in pleasing his wife yet another time before they slept. And Sinjun, laboring under misapprehensions for too many weeks and delighted with her newfound knowledge, was nothing loath.

They both slept deeply until suddenly, without warning, Sinjun was instantly awake, her eyes wide open to the darkness of their bedchamber.

There, shimmering in a soft light with her brocade gown weighted down with dozens and dozens of glistening pale cream pearls, was Pearlin’ Jane, and she was upset, Sinjun knew it, deep down.

“Quickly, Aunt Arleth’s room!”

The words were loud in Sinjun’s mind, so loud she couldn’t believe that Colin hadn’t come roaring awake.

Then Pearlin’ Jane was gone, vanished from one instant to the next. Not like the Virgin Bride, who gently eased out of view, slowly moving away until the shadows and she became one. No, Pearlin’ Jane was there and then she wasn’t.

Sinjun shook Colin even as she threw back the covers.

“Colin!” she shrieked at him as she pulled her discarded nightgown over her head.

He was awake and confused, but her urgency shook him. “What, Joan? What’s the matter?”

“Hurry, it’s Aunt Arleth!”

Sinjun ran from the bedchamber, not bothering with a candle. There was no time.

She shouted as she passed by each brother’s door but she didn’t slow.

When she reached Aunt Arleth’s room, she flung open the door. She stopped on the spot, frozen with horror. There was Aunt Arleth hanging from a rope fastened to the chandelier in the ceiling, her feet dangling at least a foot from the floor.

“No!”

“Oh God.”

It was Colin, and he shoved her aside as he ran into the bedchamber. Quickly, he grasped Aunt Arleth’s legs to push her up, relieving the pressure of the rope around her neck.

Within moments, Douglas, Ryder, Sophie, and Alex were crowding into the room.

Colin held her firmly against him, yelling over his shoulder, “Quickly, Douglas, Ryder, cut that damned rope. Perhaps we’re not too late.”

There was no knife to be found, so Douglas stood on a chair so he could reach the knot at the base of the chandelier. It took him several moments, moments that stretched longer than eternity, to untie the knot. Slowly, Colin eased Aunt Arleth down into his arms and carried her to her bed. He gently untied the knot about her throat and pulled it away.

He laid his fingers to the pulse in her throat. He slapped her face several times. He rubbed her arms, her legs, slapped her again, shook her. But there was nothing.

“She’s dead,” he said finally, straightening. “Dear God, she’s dead.”

Serena said from the doorway, “I knew she’d be dead. Your mother’s kelpie lover came for Arleth because she told Joan about your origins. Oh yes, the kelpie was your father, Colin, and now Arleth is dead, as she deserves to be.”

She turned and left the bedchamber, her pale nightgown floating around her as she walked. She paused and said over her shoulder, “I don’t believe in that kelpie nonsense. I don’t really know why I said it. But I’m not sorry she’s dead. She was dangerous to you, Colin.”

“Oh God,” Alex said, and to her own astonishment, she crumpled where she stood.

“S
HE DIDN
’
T KILL
herself,” Colin said.

“But the stool beside her,” Sinjun said, “it was kicked over, as if she—” Her voice simply stopped. She swallowed, her head lowered. Colin hugged her tightly to him.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know. If only we’d been just a few moments sooner, perhaps—”

Douglas rose and strode to the fireplace. He stood there, leaning against it, a cup of hastily prepared coffee in his hand. “No, she didn’t kill herself. I’m positive of that. You see, I untied the knot that was at the base of the chandelier. She simply wouldn’t have had the strength or the ability to fashion such a knot.”

“Shouldn’t we have Ostle fetch the magistrate?” Sinjun asked her husband.

“I am the magistrate. I agree with Douglas. I have only one question for you, Joan. How did you know to wake up and go to her room?”

“Pearlin’ Jane woke me. She told me to hurry to Aunt Arleth’s room. We went immediately, Colin, there was no hesitation. I wonder why she waited so long. Perhaps she didn’t realize Aunt Arleth wouldn’t survive, or perhaps she didn’t want her to live; she wanted her punished for what she did to Fiona and to you, Colin, and to me. How can we
possibly understand a ghost’s motives?”

Douglas shoved away from the fireplace, his face red. “Dammit, Sinjun, enough of this bloody damned ghost talk! I won’t have it, not here. At home I have to bear it because it’s a damned tradition, but not. here!”

On and on it went. Sinjun was so tired, so shocked into her tiredness that she simply sat there, listening but not really hearing everyone as they voiced their opinions. And being Sherbrookes and wives of Sherbrookes, they all had opinions and all their opinions were contrary to one another’s.

At one point Sophie shuddered and stepped quickly back, bumping into a chair. Ryder, frowning, immediately went to her and brought her into the circle of his arms. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against his wife’s. “It’s all right, Sophie. Tell me what’s wrong, love.”

“The violence, Ryder, the horrible violence, the pain. It just brought it all back to me, all of Jamaica. I hate the memories, dear God how I hate them.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry about this, but you’re with me and you will remain with me and no one will ever hurt you again, ever. Forget your damned uncle, forget Jamaica.” He rubbed her back, rocked her gently against him.

Douglas said, “Why don’t you take Sophie to bed, Ryder. She’s had quite enough. She looks as fatigued as the rest of us doubtless feel.”

Ryder gave his brother a nod.

Some five minutes later, at four o’clock in the morning, Colin said, “Douglas is right. Everyone is exhausted. Enough for tonight. We will speak of this again tomorrow.”

He held Sinjun close, his arms locked around her back, his face pressed against her temple.

“Who killed her, Colin?”

He felt her warm breath against his throat. “I don’t know,” he said, “blessed hell, I don’t know. Maybe she was an accomplice in Fiona’s death, just maybe . . . I don’t know. Jesus, what a night. Let’s get some rest.”

The next morning there was surprisingly little conversation at the breakfast table. Colin had told Dulcie to keep Philip and Dahling with her as he wanted no horrific tales spun in front of their young faces.

Still, there wasn’t much more to say.

Serena said nothing at all. She ate her porridge, chewed slowly, even nodded occasionally whilst she chewed, as if she were carrying on a private conversation with herself, which, Sinjun thought, she probably was. She would never understand Serena; she wondered if Serena understood herself.

As if at long last, Serena became aware that Sinjun was looking at her. She said, her voice as calm and serene as a warm starlit night, “A pity it wasn’t you, Joan. Then Colin would have all your money and me. Yes, a pity. I like you, naturally, it’s difficult not to. But it’s still a pity.” With those words that made Sinjun’s blood freeze in her veins, Serena merely smiled at everyone and left the Laird’s Inbetween Room.

“She’s frightening,” Sophie said, and shuddered.

“I think she’s all talk,” Alex said. “And I think she speaks that way for effect. She loves to shock. Sinjun, pull yourself together. It was just words, nothing more.”.

Colin sad, “I will see that Serena returns to Edinburgh as soon as may be. In fact, it might be best if I sent Ostle with a message to Robert MacPherson. He could come for her himself. There’s no reason to wait.”

Robert MacPherson did come to Vere Castle, and with him were half a dozen of his men, all armed to the teeth.

“You’ll notice Alfie isn’t among my men. I hanged him for killing Dingle.”

He dismounted, waved his men to do the same, and entered the castle, careful that the great doors remained open. “There is much improvement,” he said, then nodded to Sinjun. “You’re quite the housekeeper, aren’t you?”

“Oh yes,” she said, wondering why she hadn’t shot him when she’d had the chance. She didn’t trust him an inch, this pretty man with his evil heart.

“I will take Serena to Edinburgh now. I did promise you that I’d speak to my father, though I warn you, Colin, he’s not as he should be in his mental parts.”

“He was all that he should be when I last saw him,” Colin said. “If you simply told me who it was who claimed I killed your sister, we would both save ourselves a lot of time.”

“Oh no,” Robert MacPherson said, casually flicking a speck of dust from his coat sleeve. “To tell you would lead to nothing. You would try to kill the person in a rage, and I would still be left with doubts. No, I will speak to my father. I will tell him about this person who accused you. I will listen to what he has to say. Ask no more, Colin.”

“I wouldn’t kill your damnable informant!”

“If you didn’t, then your bloodthirsty wife would.”

“I surely would,” Sinjun said. “He’s right about that, Colin.”

Colin suddenly realized they were all standing in the entrance hall. He didn’t want MacPherson in his home but he had come for Serena. He had to be somewhat civil, but that didn’t mean taking
him into the drawing room and giving him a cup of tea. They would remain in the entrance hall. Colin said, to break the uncomfortable silence, “You know the wives, do you not?”

“Oh yes, bloody savages those two. Ladies,” Robert MacPherson added, and gave them each a deep bow. “And their husbands, I presume. I’m relieved that you both are here. These two charming females should be kept under lock and key.”

He turned back to Colin. “Now, your letter said you wanted me to remove Serena. May I ask why, at this particular moment in time?”

“Aunt Arleth died last night. Hung in her room.”

“Ah, I see. You lured me here to accuse me of murdering the old witch. Fortunate that I brought my men with me, isn’t it?”

“Don’t be a fool, Robbie. It was made to look like a suicide, but Douglas rightfully pointed out that Arleth wouldn’t have had the strength to tie the rope knot so tightly to the chandelier. No, someone killed her, perhaps this informant of yours was her accomplice. Perhaps he feared she’d talk and did away with her.”

But Robert MacPherson just looked at him. He did move a bit closer to the open front doors, closer to his men on the steps outside, all of them at the ready.

“Dammit, Robbie, that means someone got into the castle and murdered her!”

“Perhaps she was strong enough with the bloody knot,” he said. “Arleth was more robust than she appeared.”

Colin gave it up. He fetched Serena. She looked at him as he walked beside her down the wide staircase as if he were her lover. She looked at him as if he were Romeo to her Juliet.

“I’m very relieved that she’s leaving,” Sophie whispered to Sinjun. “She frightens me, be it all an act or not, it doesn’t matter.”

“Me too,” Sinjun said.

“Sister,” Robert MacPherson said, nodded briefly at her, and motioned for his men to fetch the two valises from Colin.

“Hello, Robbie,” Serena said. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss her brother on his mouth. “You’re more beautiful today than you were even six months ago. I pity your wife. She will have to compete with you for beauty. When we go to Edinburgh, you must promise not to escort me anywhere.”

He sucked in his breath, and for one horrible moment Sinjun was afraid that he would strike his sister. Then he smiled and said easily, “I will grow a beard.”

“I’m pleased you are able to,” Serena said. She turned to Colin, stroked her fingers over his cheeks, then rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him full on the mouth, just as she’d done her brother. “Good-bye, my love. A pity you prefer this one. A pity she is kind, but I am pleased that you married her because she was an heiress.”

Without another word, Serena walked past her brother out the front doors.

Colin simply nodded to Robert MacPherson. He walked beside him outside. The day was overcast and chilly. He watched Serena mount a mare her brother had brought for her. He watched one of Robbie’s men fasten her valises to the back of his saddle. He watched them all mount, watched them ride down the long tree-lined drive of Vere Castle.

“You will come to me once you’ve spoken to your father,” Colin called after him.

“I will certainly do something,” Robert MacPherson yelled back over his shoulder.

“Actually,” Colin said to his wife as he turned back into the entrance hall, “I’m glad I married an heiress as well, particularly this heiress.”

Sinjun grinned up at him, though it was difficult. He was trying to lighten everyone’s mood, but it was tough going.

Sophie rubbed her hands together. “Now,” she said, “we have a mystery to solve. Sinjun, I want to hear more about Pearlin’ Jane. Why do you think she came to you and told you about Aunt Arleth?”

Douglas turned on his heel and left the castle. He said over his shoulder to Alex, who was standing there staring at him, “I’m going riding. I’ll return when you’re done chewing over this damnable ghost nonsense.”

“Poor Douglas,” Ryder said. “He’s a man who must maintain his stand once he’s taken it.”

“I know,” Alex said. “I can talk him around to just about anything, but not the Virgin Bride. Sophie’s right. It’s time to discuss this fully.”

Colin said, “It would be simple if the castle were to be locked up tightly every night, but it isn’t. Anyone who’s remotely familiar with the castle could get in and go anywhere he pleased.”

“That,” Sinjun said, “is a great pity. I did fancy Serena, blast her eyes.”

They talked and debated and argued until finally the children interrupted them, their faces pale because they’d heard of Aunt Arleth’s death from the servants.

“Come here,” Colin said. He gathered both children to him and hugged them. “It will be all right. We’ll figure out what happened. I’m smart. Your uncles and aunts are smart. Your stepmother even occasionally comes to proper conclusions, once she’s been nudged onto the suitable path. Everything will be all right.”

He held them for a very long time. Then Dahling looked up at him and said, “Papa, let me go now. Sinjun needs me.”

Dahling fell asleep in Sinjun’s lap. Philip took up a stand at her side, her protector, she thought, and smiled at him with all the love she felt.

Aunt Arleth’s body was removed by her brother, Ian MacGregor, the following afternoon. If he was surprised or upset by the news that she’d been murdered in her own bedchamber, he hid it well. It became clear very quickly that he simply wanted to leave Vere Castle as soon as possible. He didn’t wish to involve himself. It was that simple. He had a wife and seven children, after all, he told them all in a pious manner that made Sinjun want to slap him. He had no time to spend here. He had to return home. He would bury Arleth, yes he would, but he would let Colin—as was only proper since she was dispatched in his home—solve the mystery of her death. She’d always been odd, she had. Always wanted what her sister had. Aye, a pity it was, but life was many times a pity.

He said to Sinjun as he prepared to leave, “I trust you won’t get yourself killed like poor Fiona did, although I suppose it’s not all that important now that Colin has married you and has your money in his pockets.”

They watched him ride beside an open wagon that held Aunt Arleth in a casket covered with a black blanket.

“He’s my uncle,” Colin said more to himself than to anyone else. “He’s my bloody uncle and I haven’t seen him since I was five years old. He’s married to his fourth wife. He has many more than seven children. It’s seven children from this, his fourth wife. One wife dies from too many births in too short a time, and he immediately weds another
and does the same thing. He’s a paltry fellow.”

There was no disagreement to this pronouncement.

“You have something of the look of him, Colin,” Douglas said. “Odd that he is so very handsome and such a rotten man.”

Sinjun turned to burrow against Colin’s chest. “What are we going to do?”

“What truly disturbs me is that someone came into the castle and murdered Aunt Arleth. It couldn’t have been Serena. At least I pray it wasn’t.”

“But I tell you Serena couldn’t have managed it,” Douglas said. “I even looked at her upper arms last night. Skinny arms, no muscle at all. Sinjun could have managed it, but not Serena.”