Guards of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk and Fisher (Hawk & Fisher) by Simon R. Green Page B

tell him this was their host, Jamie MacNeil. The MacNeil, as he now was. He was dressed all in black, being still in mourning for his father, but the clothes were of the finest cut and impeccably fashionable. He stepped forward as the butler introduced them, and greeted his two cousins warmly, kissing Isobel’s hand with style, and shaking Hawk’s hand in a grip that was firm without being overbearing. He gestured for the butler to leave them, and Greaves bowed and backed out, closing the door after him. Jamie led Hawk and Fisher over to the drinks cabinet and politely enquired as to their pleasure. He seemed genuinely pleased to see them, and yet somehow preoccupied, as though part of his attention was always somewhere else.
    “So good of you to come,” he said graciously. “Did you have a good journey?”
    “Bearable,” said Hawk, accepting his drink with a nod. “We left our belongings in Haven, ghastly place, and came straight here. Though I gather from your butler that we may have arrived at a bad time ... he said something about all the servants leaving?”
    Jamie MacNeil smiled easily, but Hawk could see the effort it took. “Just a minor domestic crisis, but I’m afraid we’re all going to have to rough it for the moment. Please accept my apologies, and bear with us. Do feel free to stay for as long as you wish: there are plenty of spare bedrooms, and Haven’s inns are notoriously unsafe.”
    “That’s very kind of you,” said Hawk.
    “Not at all, not at all. I’ll just let Greaves know, and he’ll prepare rooms for you and your sister.”
    He reached for the bell pull by the fireplace, but had barely taken hold of it when the door swung open and Greaves entered. Hawk blinked bemusedly at such a quick response, and then smiled slightly as Greaves stepped to one side and two ladies of the Quality swept in, not even deigning to notice the butler’s bow. Jamie smiled at them both, a genuine smile full of warmth and affection, and more than a little concern. Hawk sipped his wine thoughtfully as Jamie spoke quietly to the butler. He was beginning to get a bad feeling about Tower MacNeil. Something was going on here; something he was beginning to suspect had nothing to do with the spy Fenris. He took a healthy gulp of his wine, careful to keep his little finger crooked. On the other hand, he could just be getting paranoid. If Jamie MacNeil knew about the spy, then getting rid of a bunch of gossiping servants was a sensible precaution. But according to Greaves, the servants had left some time ago, long before Fenris could have arrived.... Hawk quickly put the thought to one side for later consideration as Jamie dismissed the butler and turned to him and Fisher.
    “Dear cousins, allow me to present my sister Holly, and my aunt, Katrina Dorimant.”
    Hawk bowed and the women curtsied, Fisher with more efficiency than grace. Holly MacNeil was a blazing redhead in her late twenties, almost as tall as her brother, but as slightly built as he was broad. Hawk’s first thought was that the poor lass could do with a good meal or two. Her pale face was gaunt and strained, though still attractive, her large green eyes giving her an innocent, vulnerable look, like a young fawn suddenly confronted with a pack of wolves. Whatever was going on at Tower MacNeil, it was clear she knew about it too. Like her brother, Holly MacNeil was formally but stylishly dressed in black, which against the paleness of her skin only served to emphasize her frailty. She offered Hawk a trembling hand, and he had to steady it with his own before he could kiss it. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it, and thought he glimpsed a quick smile. Holly and Fisher embraced each other briefly. There was no warmth in it, and Holly held the contact only as long as convention demanded.
    Jamie’s aunt, Katrina Dorimant, was a roguishly attractive woman in her mid-forties, with a broad grin and flashing eyes. She wore a long,