The Heiress Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 3)

Ryder nodded and Douglas clenched his fists again and said, “Yes. Good smuggled French brandy?”

“Naturally.”

Well, that was something, Sinjun thought, relaxing just a bit. Men who drank together couldn’t smash each other, not with brandy snifters in their hands. Of course, they could throw the snifters, but she’d never seen either Ryder or Douglas do that.

“How are Sophie and all my nephews, and the children?”

“They’re all well except for Amy and Teddy, who were fighting in the hayloft and a bale of hay rolled off its stack and knocked both of them out and down to the ground. No broken bones, thank God.”

“I expect Jane lambasted them but good.” Jane was the directress of Brandon House, or Bedlam House, as Sinjun called the lovely large three-story house that lay but one hundred yards from Chadwyck House, the residence of Ryder, Sophie, and their young son, Grayson.

“Oh yes, Jane had a rare fit, threatened to pull ears and dish out bread and water after they recovered from all their bruises. I think that’s what she did do, adding just a dollop of jam to their bread. Then Sophie kissed them both and yelled at them as well.”

“And then what did you do, Ryder?”

“I just hugged them and said if they were ever so stupid again, I would be very upset with them.”

“A dire threat,” Sinjun said, and laughed. She rose and walked to Ryder, leaned down, and hugged him close. “I’ve missed you so very much.”

“Blessed hell, brat, I’m exhausted. Douglas dragged me out of bed—and Sophie was so warm, it was damned difficult to leave her—and he forced me to ride like the devil himself were snapping at our heels. He said he would outfox you, bragged, he did, but you won, didn’t you?”

“Here is your brandy, my lord.”

“I’m not a lord, Kinross. I’m a second son. I’m only an honorable, and that strikes me as a mite ridiculous. Just call me Ryder. You are my brother-in-law, at least until Douglas decides whether or not he will kill you. Take heart, though. Not many years ago Douglas gave a good deal of thought to killing our cousin Tony Parrish—called him a rotten sod—but in the end he gave it up.”

Angus relaxed a bit.

“That situation is nothing like this one, Ryder.”

Angus snapped back to attention.

“True, but Sinjun is married to the fellow, Douglas, no way around that. You know she’s never one to do things half-measure.”

Douglas cursed foully.

Angus relaxed a mite, for curses were a wise man’s way to relieve his spleen.

Colin strolled to Douglas and handed him a brandy. “How long do the two of you plan to stay? Don’t get me wrong. You’re welcome as my brothers-in-law to remain as long as you wish, but there are few furnishings here and thus it wouldn’t be very comfortable for you.”

“Who are the MacPhersons?” Douglas asked.

Colin said calmly enough, “They are a clan who have feuded with my clan for several generations. Indeed it all started around 1748, after the Battle of Culloden. There was bad blood there because the laird of the MacPhersons stole my grandfather’s favorite stallion. The feuding finally stopped when I married the current laird’s daughter, Fiona Dahling MacPherson. When she died so mysteriously some six months ago, her father seemed not to blame me. However, the eldest brother, Robert, is vicious, unreasonable, greedy, and utterly unscrupulous. When my cousin visited me in London, he told me the MacPhersons, led by that bastard Robert MacPherson, had already raided my lands and killed two of my people.

Joan is correct. It is very likely one of them penned that letter. The only thing is, I can’t imagine how they knew where I was or how any of the sniveling cowards had the cunning to come up with such a plot.”

“Why the hell do you call her Joan?” Ryder said.

Colin blinked. “It’s her name.”

“Hasn’t been for years. Her name is Sinjun.”

“It’s a man’s nickname. I don’t like it. She is Joan.”

“Dear God, Douglas, he sounds just like Mother.”

“True,” Douglas said. “Sinjun will bring him around. Back to the MacPhersons. I don’t want my sister in any danger. I won’t allow it.”

“She may be your sister,” Colin said very quietly, “but she is my wife. She will go where I go and she will do as I bid her. I will keep her from harm, you needn’t worry.” He turned to Sinjun. His eyes glinted in the soft afternoon light but his expression remained utterly impassive, as did his voice. “Isn’t that right, my dear?”