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“You didn’t mention the children in your letters, Sinjun,” Sophie said, her voice reproachful.

“Well, no. You see—” She stalled. “Colin, the Virgin Bride came to Alex and told her I was ill. So she and Sophie came as quickly as they could get away, because they were worried about me.”

“It was more than that,” Alex said, allowing herself to be sidestepped. Another mystery. It was fascinating. “She also said you were in trouble.”

“Oh dear,” Sinjun said, and looked at her husband, who appeared sincerely puzzled. Douglas would have been sneering and carping on about idiot nonsense. Ryder would have been laughing his head off.

“There is no trouble,” Colin said. ‘Well, maybe a bit, but nothing I can’t handle. What the devil is going on here? I want the truth now, all of it.”

“We have come for a visit,” Alex said, giving him a fat smile. “A simple visit, that’s all. We will oversee things until Sinjun is well enough to take over again. Isn’t that right, Sophie?”

“Exactly,” Sophie agreed, nodding as complacently as a maiden aunt as she ate her second scone. “We both have different household talents, you see, Colin, thus the both of us are necessary so that all may continue to run smoothly. Delicious tea, Sinjun.”

Colin looked at her, one dark brow arched up a good inch. “Indeed,” he said. “Joan is blessed in her relatives.”

“Joan?” Sophie said, frowning. “Wherever did you get that, Colin?”

“I prefer it to her man’s nickname.”

“Oh. But—”

“It doesn’t matter, Sophie,” Sinjun said, adding quickly, ‘Thank you both for coming. I’m so glad you did.” She added, without thinking, “It’s been rather harrowing.”

“What do you mean?” Sophie asked, licking a dollop of sweet raspberry jam from her finger.

Sinjun darted a look at her husband, saying quickly, “Later, Sophie, we will speak of it later.”

Colin was frowning ferociously. “You will go back to bed, Joan. You look pale as my shirt and you’re sweating like a Caerlaverock goat. I don’t like it. Come along. I’ll carry you up. I want you to stay in bed this time. I’ll tell you when you can get up again.” He didn’t wait for her to reply, merely picked her up in his arms and carried her to the door. He said over his shoulder, “You may follow us, if you like, ladies. It will help you get the lay of the land.”

And so Sophie and Alex, relieved that Sinjun was all right and confused to their eyebrows at the notion of children and harrowing things, silently followed their brother-in-law up the impossibly wide staircase.

“Think of it as an adventure,” Alex said to Sophie behind her hand. “Would you look at the gentleman in that portrait! Goodness, he’s naked!”

Colin smiled but didn’t turn, merely said over his shoulder, “That’s my great-great-grandfather, Granthan Kinross. The stories have it that he lost a wager with a neighbor, the result being that he had to have his portrait painted without his plaid. There is a judiciously placed yew bush in front of him, though.”

“What was the wager?” Alex asked.

“The story goes that Granthan wa

s a wild young man and much in demand with all the local ladies. He took it on as his mission in life to see that they were all happy. One neighbor said Granthan would never seduce his wife no matter what his blandishments, because of her unflagging virtue, and a bet was made. The wife, it turns out, was really a young man in disguise and Granthan did indeed lose the bet and his clothes for the painting.”

Sophie laughed. “You’re right, Alex. It’s going to be a grand adventure.”

That evening after dinner Sophie and Alex came to Sinjun’s bedchamber and settled themselves by her bed. Colin let them be, adjourning himself to the children’s nursery.

“No, don’t ask about my health again. I’m fine, just bloody weak. I got sick from a good dousing in the rain, nothing more, nothing less, except that Aunt Arleth tried to kill me.”

Sophie and Alex gaped at her.

“The devil you say,” Alex said at last.

Sophie said, “She’s a sour old thing—not at all happy to see us, I can tell you that!—but to try to kill you? Why?”

“She doesn’t want me here, just my groats. Maybe not even my groats, I’m not certain. When I was ill, Colin was in Edinburgh. She opened windows, left me alone; all in all, she sent me to the edge of oblivion. Philip rode by himself throughout the night to fetch his father. He’s a wonderful little boy. Later she tried again. I don’t know if she was really serious, perhaps she’s just unhinged. She speaks of many things but makes little sense. Now, what do you think of my children?”

“They were only allowed for a few minutes in the drawing room. They’re the image of their father, which is to say that they’re quite handsome. Dahling hid behind her father’s leg, her thumb in her mouth, but Philip came to me and said he was glad we were here. He lowered his voice and told us to be careful for you. He didn’t want you hurt again. You have quite a champion there, Sinjun. He will also break ladies’ hearts one of these years.”

“Just as his father, hopefully, won’t break mine.”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Sherbrooke Brides Historical