do. You yourself said 'twas naught but a rag. Don't be such a spoilsport, my lord."
Unable to live with the constant reminder of his dual identities, he forced himself to insist. "I couldn't allow the animal inside the castle with it on."
Her cheerful expression wilted like daisies in a freeze. She yanked the scarf free. "Of course, my lord. Rest assured I'll have the twins bathe her and wash the scarf as soon as we return."
Duncan felt as if he'd taken a cannonball in the chest. Damn. He'd buy the blasted dog a scarf in every color of the rainbow—anything to put the light back in Miriam's eyes.
During the return to Kildalton Castle, he fabricated fish stories to entertain her, to make her smile. He might as well have tried to reform baron Sinclair.
Silently Duncan cursed.
The cool diplomat sat inches from him.
The laughing woman stood miles out of reach.
He consoled his guilty conscience with facts. She was here to gain evidence against him. What proof did he have that she would be fair? Certainly not the English justice system. She could knock his life into the hazard. That done, she'd pack up and move on to wherever the queen sent her.
He'd better stay one step ahead of her. He knew just the way. After the evening meal he'd slip into the secret passageway, stand behind her wardrobe, and listen and watch. She'd never know he was there.
Encouraged, he patted his stomach. "Mrs. Elliott's preparing umbles of deer and fricassee. 'Tis a favorite of mine. I prefer fish, of course, but one can't eat it every day. I'm certain we'll have dessert, probably berry tarts with clotted cream."
His constant chatter rattled Miriam. She could abide his eccentricities, he was entitled to those, but didn't he ever shut up? Keeping her voice light, she said, "Sounds delicious. I love kidneys and heart."
"Splendid. Perhaps my peacocks have arrived. Oh, I do hope so. Are you familiar with the mating habits of peacocks?" He laughed and didn't seem to expect an answer. "The male puts on a show that is pure entertainment. They'll be molting now, though. Poor fellows seem so despondent without their pretty feathers. They mope around like a buck without a doe. I'm doing a study on it, you know."
At least deer fought for their women, and defended them, she thought morosely.
By the time they entered the castle yard she wanted to scream. She almost did when a shepherd approached, a lifeless sheepdog in his arms.
"The baron's men did it, my lord." Tears pooled in the old man's eyes. " 'Tweren't no cause to kill my ol' Barley. I give 'em my chickens and all the acorns I'd collected to sell to the swineherd."
"Oh, you poor, poor man," said the earl.
Her heart breaking over the sad man and his burden, Miriam turned to the earl. "What will you do?"
Blinking innocently, he said, "Why, I'll find him another dog. Would you care to help me locate one?"
Galled by his cowardice, she didn't trust herself to answer. Instead she climbed from the carriage and took Verbatim to the kennel so the twins could bathe the dog. Then Miriam went in search of solitude.
Later that night she stood at the window looking down on the garden. Behind her a freshly washed and recently fed Verbatim snoozed by the fire.
The side door opened. Alexis came in, a rueful smile on her face. "Had enough peace and quiet?"
Guilt plagued Miriam. "I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier, but I simply couldn't help it. After the earl's chattering, I needed solitude."
"Apology accepted." Alexis knelt beside Verbatim and stroked the long velvetlike ears. "Anyone who works as hard as you should be allowed an occasional touch of bad humor."
Miriam let the drape fall back in place. "I thought I wouldn't know humor if it crept under my skirt."
"Which you're still wearing. Not sleepy again?"
The candle flame flickered. Miriam shivered, wondering if architects designed drafts into castles. Rubbing her arms, she said. "I can't stop thinking about that poor, dead sheepdog."
Alexis's hand
Unable to live with the constant reminder of his dual identities, he forced himself to insist. "I couldn't allow the animal inside the castle with it on."
Her cheerful expression wilted like daisies in a freeze. She yanked the scarf free. "Of course, my lord. Rest assured I'll have the twins bathe her and wash the scarf as soon as we return."
Duncan felt as if he'd taken a cannonball in the chest. Damn. He'd buy the blasted dog a scarf in every color of the rainbow—anything to put the light back in Miriam's eyes.
During the return to Kildalton Castle, he fabricated fish stories to entertain her, to make her smile. He might as well have tried to reform baron Sinclair.
Silently Duncan cursed.
The cool diplomat sat inches from him.
The laughing woman stood miles out of reach.
He consoled his guilty conscience with facts. She was here to gain evidence against him. What proof did he have that she would be fair? Certainly not the English justice system. She could knock his life into the hazard. That done, she'd pack up and move on to wherever the queen sent her.
He'd better stay one step ahead of her. He knew just the way. After the evening meal he'd slip into the secret passageway, stand behind her wardrobe, and listen and watch. She'd never know he was there.
Encouraged, he patted his stomach. "Mrs. Elliott's preparing umbles of deer and fricassee. 'Tis a favorite of mine. I prefer fish, of course, but one can't eat it every day. I'm certain we'll have dessert, probably berry tarts with clotted cream."
His constant chatter rattled Miriam. She could abide his eccentricities, he was entitled to those, but didn't he ever shut up? Keeping her voice light, she said, "Sounds delicious. I love kidneys and heart."
"Splendid. Perhaps my peacocks have arrived. Oh, I do hope so. Are you familiar with the mating habits of peacocks?" He laughed and didn't seem to expect an answer. "The male puts on a show that is pure entertainment. They'll be molting now, though. Poor fellows seem so despondent without their pretty feathers. They mope around like a buck without a doe. I'm doing a study on it, you know."
At least deer fought for their women, and defended them, she thought morosely.
By the time they entered the castle yard she wanted to scream. She almost did when a shepherd approached, a lifeless sheepdog in his arms.
"The baron's men did it, my lord." Tears pooled in the old man's eyes. " 'Tweren't no cause to kill my ol' Barley. I give 'em my chickens and all the acorns I'd collected to sell to the swineherd."
"Oh, you poor, poor man," said the earl.
Her heart breaking over the sad man and his burden, Miriam turned to the earl. "What will you do?"
Blinking innocently, he said, "Why, I'll find him another dog. Would you care to help me locate one?"
Galled by his cowardice, she didn't trust herself to answer. Instead she climbed from the carriage and took Verbatim to the kennel so the twins could bathe the dog. Then Miriam went in search of solitude.
Later that night she stood at the window looking down on the garden. Behind her a freshly washed and recently fed Verbatim snoozed by the fire.
The side door opened. Alexis came in, a rueful smile on her face. "Had enough peace and quiet?"
Guilt plagued Miriam. "I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier, but I simply couldn't help it. After the earl's chattering, I needed solitude."
"Apology accepted." Alexis knelt beside Verbatim and stroked the long velvetlike ears. "Anyone who works as hard as you should be allowed an occasional touch of bad humor."
Miriam let the drape fall back in place. "I thought I wouldn't know humor if it crept under my skirt."
"Which you're still wearing. Not sleepy again?"
The candle flame flickered. Miriam shivered, wondering if architects designed drafts into castles. Rubbing her arms, she said. "I can't stop thinking about that poor, dead sheepdog."
Alexis's hand
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