The Heiress Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 3)

“Perhaps. Try to understand, Sinjun. Since he was a little boy, Colin usually lost those things that were his. He learned secrecy. He learned to guard what was his. But even then he wasn’t always successful. He was the second son, you see, and as such, anything that was his that his brother Malcolm wanted, why, it was taken away from him. I remember he had this small stash of items, nothing valuable, you understand, just things that were his and were important to him, things he didn’t want taken away from him, and Malcolm would have, I never doubted it. Anything that was Colin’s he wanted. Colin hid them in this small carved box in the trunk of an oak tree. He would go to the oak tree only when he knew Malcolm was somewhere else.

“Perhaps that explains why he still wishes to keep the doing of things here at Vere Castle to himself. You see, everything is now his and what is his, he protects. He guards jealously.”

“I see,” Sinjun said, but she didn’t, not really. It made no sense. He was no longer a boy, he was a man.

“It has sorely chafed him that there was no money to bring the castle back into its former splendor. You have made a very big difference, Sinjun.”

“Why does Aunt Arleth hate him so?”

“She’s a strange old witch. The workings of her mind have eluded any meaningful analysis. Malcolm was her favorite, I don’t know why. Perhaps because he’d be the future laird and she wanted him to look at her with lasting respect and affection. She treated Colin like he was a gypsy’s get, of no importance at all. I remember she told Malcolm about Colin’s love of poetry—he got that from his mother—and Malcolm told his father that he also loved poetry and he wanted Colin’s book. He got it.”

“But that wasn’t fair!”

“Perhaps not, but the laird saw the Kinross future as being in Malcolm’s hands, thus Malcolm wasn’t thwarted in anything he wanted. It ruined his character. Naturally Aunt Arleth hated her sister for the simple reason that she wanted the earl for herself. The word is that she got him after her sister died, but only in her bed, not at the altar. Odd how life goes, isn’t it?”

Sinjun shivered, not because wispy gray clouds had moved to block the afternoon sun, but because she’d never seen such behavior in her family. Her mother had always been a trial, but it hadn’t mattered. It was even amusing now that she could think about it from a goodly distance and not have to live with it.

“But now Colin is the laird. He’s a good man and I daresay he’s found himself an excellent wife.”

“That’s true,” she said, voice tart. “It’s just a pity that he isn’t here to enjoy his good fortune.”

What to do?

Sinjun chewed over all alternatives she could think of during the next two days, always changing and honing down her list of pros and cons. There was no word from Colin. MacDuff was helpful and kind. He consented to give both her and Philip fencing lessons and both of them proved adept with foils. He complimented her continually on the state of the house, and her reply was only that soap and water were not expensive.

“Aye,” he said, “but it takes fortitude to hold out against Aunt Arleth and all her plaints.”

She herself studied Colin’s gun collection, finally selecting a small pocket pistol with a silver butt cap and a double barrel, not more than fifteen years old, that would hide itself in the skirt pocket of her riding habit.

Now she had to rid herself of MacDuff and be available for Robert MacPherson to come upon. She’d decided on making herself bait. It was the cleanest, most straightforward way of getting him. She didn’t doubt for a moment that he or one of his minions was watching Vere Castle. For that reason, she kept both Philip and Dahling close. They were never alone, and if they wondered at her firm stricture, they didn’t voice it.

It was at breakfast the morning of MacDuff’s departure that Dahling swallowed her porridge and said, “I’ve decided that you aren’t ugly, Sinjun.”

MacDuff stared at the little girl but Sinjun only laughed and said, “My thanks, Dahling. I have nearly broken my mirror in my anxiety.”

“May I ride Fanny?”

“Ah, I understand now. The child is attempting a stratagem,” MacDuff said.

“Would I be ugly again if I said no?”

Dahling looked undecided, but finally shook her small head. “No, you just wouldn’t be a Great Beauty, like I will be.”

“Well, in that case, why don’t we compromise? I’ll set you in front of me and we’ll both ride Fanny.”

The little girl beamed at that, and Sinjun, knowing quite well that the child had gotten exactly what she wanted, didn’t mind a bit.

“So both children call you Sinjun now.”

“Yes.”

“I daresay that Colin will have to come around. Is there any message you wish me to deliver to him?”

Now she realized that she didn’t want him around, not until she’d dealt with MacPherson, and only the good Lord knew how long that would take. She said only, “Tell him that the children and I miss him and that all goes well here. Oh yes, MacDuff. Tell him that I would never steal that box of his in the oak tree trunk.”

MacDuff leaned down from his great height and lightly kissed her cheek. “I don’t believe Colin has read any poetry since Malcolm took his book.”

“I will think about that.”