Amanda Scott by Reivers Bride Page B

unbecoming, sir, particularly
     since you have already snubbed me twice, but I would like to know where you were. Your uncle, after all, is not the only person
     who believed you were dead.”
    “Are you going to tell me that your cousin was cast into black despair?”
    “No, for I do not believe that is the case. She has scarcely ever mentioned your name, but I can tell you that she was saddened
     and disappointed.”
    “She did not even know me.”
    “Had you never met, not even once as children?”
    “You say that she is seventeen now. I’m eight-and-twenty, and I’ve not set foot in the Borders in more than five years. We
     might have met at Stirling one of the few times that I accompanied my father to court, but I do not recall meeting her.”
    “I do not think Fiona has been to court,” Anne said. “Her mother meant… that is, she
means
to present her after her marriage.”
    “I do recall that her father died before mine arranged the betrothal. Do you three women live alone at Mute Hill House without
     masculine protection?”
    She knew that, once again, he was attempting to divert her from the subject of his whereabouts, but she said, “Aunt Olivia
     invited her uncle, Sir Tobias Bell, to live with her after Sir Stephen’s death. As to whether Toby counts as protection, I
     have my doubts, sir, but he certainly lends us a certain consequence if one does not mind the occasional fox hunt through
     the great hall.”
    He laughed. “Does he really hunt foxes indoors?”
    She smiled. “Not purposely, I suppose, but he does have a knack for creating havoc. That was one reason I felt such a strong
     urge to escape to the peacefulness of the Towers today. First, Aunt Olivia tortured poor Fiona for two hours whilst she satisfied
     herself that the wedding dress is as it should be, and then, a poor little fox darted through, pursued by a half dozen hounds.
     You cannot imagine the uproar.”
    “What happened to the fox?”
    “It headed for one of the stairways, and that was the last I saw of it. I took Fiona upstairs afterward, so that she could
     rest.”
    “I collect that Toby Bell is not what Lady Carmichael hoped he would be.”
    “In truth, I think she relies more on her household steward than her uncle. Toby is as fat as a brood-sow and jovial. He enjoys
     childish pranks, good claret, and the company of men he meets in alehouses and other such places. He is forever bringing one
     or another of them home with him, and he tells Aunt Olivia he does so in hopes of providing her with an eligible suitor of
     her own.”
    “I should think you would applaud that notion. If her daughter is only seventeen, Lady Carmichael must enjoy excellent prospects
     for remarriage.”
    Anne bit back a gurgle of laughter, saying, “She would not thank you for saying so, nor does she appreciate Toby’s efforts.
     She prefers to … to concentrate on her bereavement.”
    “To wallow in it, I expect you meant to say.” When Anne did not contradict him, he added thoughtfully, “Sir Stephen must have
     been dead now for more than two years. Surely, she has not kept herself secluded all that time.”
    “Oh, but—” Anne bit back the words before they leaped from her tongue.
    “Don’t stop there, lass. What else were you going to say?”
    She hesitated and then said stiffly, “She also mourns my father and mother, sir, as I think you must realize.”
    “Now, that was neatly done,” he said approvingly. “Puts me tidily in my place and is calculated even to make me squirm a bit
     for forgetting that their deaths might have affected her. But it won’t serve. You would not have broken off so abruptly to
     avoid mentioning your father and mother. So what was it?”
    Anne bit her lip, wishing that she had foreseen the pitfall earlier.
    “Come now,” he urged. “Coyness does not suit you, and I’ve a notion the bit you’re not telling me somehow concerns me.”
    “Not really,” she said. “At all events, it is