“I’m glad you think this is funny. Because it isn’t.” Agnes pointed a
t Donna again. “Our sister is going to die a slow and painful death.”
“Drama queen,” Mairi muttered, but they all heard her.
“No biscuits for you,” Agnes declared.
“Mean drama queen,” Mairi amended.
They were getting off track. “Aggie, you know Duncan wouldn’t hurt me, right? He’d just shout a lot. And maybe fire me. Or lock me in my tower so he could shout at me until he gets it out of his system.”
Agnes shook her head slowly. “You have a deeply disturbing relationship with your boss.”
“You have no idea. But that’s not the issue. The issue is that I can’t say no to the Women’s Institute, even if it means suffering Duncan’s wrath. The ball’s raising money for sick babies and children. They’re even calling it the Fiona Stewart Memorial Ball. How can I stand in the way of that?”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “Mairi’s right, those women played you like they were virtuosos and you were a violin.” She scooped the teabag out of the mug, added milk and brought it over to Donna.
“Maybe,” Donna conceded. “But it’s too late to change things now.”
“I’ll talk to them for you,” Agnes said with a sigh.
“I’ll be her muscle,” Mairi said cheerfully. “She’s going to need it to deal with the three witches.”
Great, just what she needed. Her sisters rescuing her—again. She straightened her shoulders. “No. I’ll sort it.” She was twenty-eight years old, and it was time to stand up for herself. Past time.
Her sisters shared a look before Agnes raised a sceptical eyebrow. “You’ll sort it?”
“Yes.” She nodded firmly as her stomach lurched.
“How?”
“Give me a minute. I’m still working on that part. First, I need to find a way to get Duncan out of the mansion for the weekend. In fact, out of Kintyre would be even better.”
“That isn’t sorting it,” Agnes snapped. “That’s carrying on with your crazy plan to have the ball behind Duncan’s back.”
“When was the last time he left Kintyre, anyway?” Mairi said. “And where’s my tea?”
“You can make your own tea as punishment for admiring the three witches’ technique.”
Mairi stuck her tongue out at Agnes and headed for the kettle. “That kind of attitude is exactly why I moved out.”
“You moved out to get it on with Keir,” Agnes said.
“That too.” Mairi grinned before turning to Donna. “So, when was the last time Duncan spent a night away from the mansion?”
“I’m thinking.” Donna wracked her memory. “It was before I started working there. It might have been for Fiona’s funeral in Glasgow.”
“Great,” Agnes said. “I’m glad that’s sorted. All you need to do to get him out of town is wait for someone else to die.”
“Aggie! That isn’t funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny. He has no friends, and he doesn’t go anywhere. All he does is lurk in the mansion, brooding. Getting him out of there might take a stick of dynamite.”
“Have you thought about having the cook lace his food with sleeping pills?” Mairi said. “He’ll sleep through the ball and your problems will be solved.”
Donna glared at them. “I seriously worry about the moral standards of this family. You especially.”
The glare had no effect.