The Heiress Bride - Catherine Coulter [115]
“Your husband will yell and pound the furniture and then he’ll kill all of us.”
“I will lie to him and he will know it, but how will he ever guess the truth?”
“What lie have you planned to tell him to explain your absence and ours?” Alex asked. She held up her hand. “You see, Sinjun, there’s today and then yet another day to deal with, and perhaps even another and another after that. The scheduling of this is difficult, even without the husbands’ interference. Now, what will you tell Colin?”
“Truth be told, I haven’t the faintest idea now, but with Colin yelling at me, I doubt not that something wonderful will spring to mind. It always does. First things first. Let’s go.” Argyll galloped forward, spewing pebbles in his wake.
They rode hard and saw very few people. The deeper they rode into the hills, the more difficult the going became. Purple heather sprang up thick from between sharp-edged rocks, giving the landscape a savage beauty.
“You’re certain this is a shorter route?” Alex asked.
Sinjun nodded. “Nearly there.”
Actually, St. Monance Castle, home of the MacPherson clan, was set at the very end of the Pilchy Loch, a narrow body of water that had grown thinner during the past century. There were trees aplenty surrounding the loch, sufficient arable land that Sinjun could see. Unlike Vere Castle, St. Monance looked its age. Because it was summer, there were brilliant flowers about, softening the ravages of time, but there were more weeds than blossoms, and everything looked untended and uncared for. Everything looked weathered and poor. It was what Crocker had told her. The weathered gray stone had crumbled or caved in at many places on the castle walls. Once there had been a moat, but now there were only tall weeds and a swampy area that stank nearly as badly as the Cowal Swamp in the warm morning air.
“This place desperately needs another heiress, Sinjun.”
“From what I’ve learned, nearly every Scottish clan needs a huge ration of money, particularly the Highland clans. We’re lucky here in Fife. There is arable land aplenty, so there is no question about sheep being brought up and the people shoved off their land, which is what is happening in the Highlands. Why the MacPhersons are poor, I don’t know. Goodness, I’m starting to babble like you, Alex.” Sinjun drew a deep breath. “I do hope that Robert MacPherson is here. Now, as you know, I told him in my letter that I would be alone, and that I would be here this morning. If he isn’t here, well, then I’ve failed. Keep your fingers crossed. Stay here and keep hidden. With any luck I’ll have him with me very soon. Now, I need the two of you to assure me that a man would just look at me and become cross-eyed with lust.”
“At least cross-eyed,” Sophie said, and she meant it.
This was the part of the plan that both Sophie and Alex had serious qualms about, but Sinjun seemed so very sure of herself. “Ostle swore he delivered the letter,” she said. They looked at each other but could think of no more to say. They pulled to a halt in the midst of birch and fir trees and prepared to wait. “If you aren’t back with him within a half hour, we’re coming in to fetch you,” Alex told her.
Sinjun rode directly to the front of the castle. Chickens and goats and dogs scattered before Argyll. There were perhaps a dozen men and women about outside, and they stopped their tasks to watch the lady ride up.
She saw two men look at her, then disappear through