The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)
Page 60
“That will not be necessary,” Tamhas replied. He’d assumed that Jean would have found out from one of the servants, but apparently no one wanted to share the gossip with the mistress of the house.
Jean frowned. “What do you mean?”
Tamhas signaled at the serving girl, indicating she should leave. “Chloris will not be joining us because she is returning to Edinburgh in the morning.”
Jean sat back in her chair. “I had no idea. Why has she made the decision so suddenly?”
His wife appeared to have grown fond of his cousin. Well, it was too late now, their friendship would not flourish. “I ordered her to be gone.”
Jean looked aghast.
“I’m afraid Cousin Chloris has abused my trust.”
Jean stared at him, her brow furrowed.
“Don’t breathe a word of it to anybody, but I intercepted a letter from that scoundrel, the Witch Master. It was quite obvious from the contents of the letter and Chloris’s reaction that they had been meeting.”
Jean turned quite pale.
“It is almost as if she has done this to provoke me. She knows what I think of them.”
“I warned her,” she said. “I told her that no woman was safe in his company.”
Tamhas studied his wife carefully. Had she known anything about the affair? “The morning rides she took, did she ever speak to you of them?”
“Only that they invigorated her.” Jean’s cheeks flushed when she realized what she had said.
Tamhas gave her a warning glance. “You had no suspicion?”
Jean shook her head. “No. I was very careful to warn her because I myself found him a most intimidating personage.” She paused and her eyes flickered, as if she regretted what she’d said. “So it is unlikely that she would have confided in me.”
She looked away.
Tamhas sensed her discomfort. What had she let slip? “Whatever do you mean you found him an intimidating personage?”
“I misspoke, husband.” She could not look his way, which only confirmed her guilt.
Tamhas rose to his feet, his blood boiling. “Tell me, or I’ll beat it out of you, bairn or no bairn.”
Jean lifted her gaze to meet his, terrified, as well she should be. “When I first came here, I encountered him. I spoke with him awhile, that is all.”
The door opened, and the serving girl carried in a platter of food.
“Get out,” he shouted.
The girl scurried off.
Tamhas returned his attention to his wife, who was now cowering in her chair. “I meet with the bailiff tomorrow to discuss ousting them. Before I do so you will tell me exactly what happened, and when.”
Jean hung her head. “I invited him here, many years ago, to see to the ghost that lingers in the west wing.”
“Did you let him touch you?”
“No, I promise you, I did not.”
“Continue, tell me everything.”
Tamhas pressed his lips together and forced himself to listen to every detail of her silly tale, even though he wanted to silence her, for it only reinforced his determination to see Lennox Fingal destroyed.