The Heiress Bride - Catherine Coulter [63]
She was nearly upon him before he noticed her presence. “Joan! Hello and welcome to Vere Castle. Forgive me for not being here when you arrived.”
“Hello, MacDuff. Please call me Sinjun. Only Colin persists in this Joan business.”
“You’ll bring him about, I daresay.”
“You think so, do you?”
“Yes. He told me about your reception in Edinburgh—your brothers being there and all.” He paused and looked upward at the minstrel’s gallery, all in gloom now, frowning a bit. “I should like to have seen it. It sounds like you had quite a bit of fun. Did Angus really shoot a hole in the drawing room ceiling?”
“A very big hole. It made everything quite black and smelly.”
“I’m always on the short end of adventures. It doesn’t seem fair, since I’m so big, does it? I could champion any number of lovely young ladies just by frowning at the opponents. They would scatter to the winds, I daresay, were I to wave one of my gigantic fists at them. Colin also told me about the shot.” He paused and studied her face, touching the mark with his blunt, large fingers. “There won’t be a scar, thank the good Lord. Don’t worry, Colin will bring the culprit to justice. What do you think of your new home?”
Sinjun looked at the dusty oak wainscoting, the dull and dirty stair railings that were so beautifully carved. “I think it’s magic. I also think a lot of dirty hands have touched the railings and a lot of other hands have been idle.”
“No one has done much of anything since Fiona and Colin’s brother died.”
“Including simple housekeeping?”
“So it would appear.” MacDuff looked around the large first floor. “You’re right. I hadn’t noticed. But you know, things have been like this since Colin’s mother died some five years ago. It’s good you’re here, Sinjun. You can see that all is brought back up to snuff.”
“Her name is Joan.”
“Your one refrain, Colin?” His voice was amiable. He shook his cousin’s hand, making Colin wince.
“Joan is her name.”
“Well, I prefer Sinjun. Now, let’s go into the drawing room, shall we? Doubtless your bride would like a sherry.”
“Yes, I would,” Sinjun said, and looked at her husband and swallowed. He was beautiful in black evening garb and pristine white linen. He was immaculate and so handsome she wanted to hurl herself into his arms. She wanted to kiss his mouth, his earlobe, the pulse in his neck.
“Good evening, Joan.”
“Hello, Colin.”
He arched a black brow at the interested tone of her voice, but said nothing, merely bowed.
Aunt Arleth was the only one in the dark and dour drawing room, sitting near a sluggishly burning peat fire. She was dressed in unrelieved black, a beautiful cameo at her throat. She was very thin, her hair black and luxuriant, pulled up in an elegant twist, white wings sweeping back at her temples. She had once been quite pretty. Now she looked annoyed, her mouth thin, her pointed chin up. Aunt Arleth rose and said without preamble, “The children are eating with Dulcie in the nursery. My nerves are overset, nephew, what with the arrival of this Young Person, whom you had to carry upstairs, with everyone looking. I don’t want the children at my table tonight.”
Colin merely smiled. “I, on the other hand, have missed my children.” He motioned to a footman, who was wearing a very ragged livery of dark blue and faded white. “Fetch the children, please, Rory.”
There was a hiss of anger, and Sinjun turned to Aunt Arleth and said, “Please, ma’am, it is I who wish to have them at the dinner table. They’re now my responsibility and I should like to get to know them.”
“I have never believed children should be allowed to eat with the adults.”
“Yes, Aunt, we know your feelings. Indulge me for this evening. Joan, some sherry? Aunt, what would you like?”
Aunt Arleth accepted her sherry, sat down, and became markedly silent. Serena came into the drawing room at that moment, looking like a princess in a very formal gown of pale pink silk, her lovely dark brown hair threaded through with matching pink ribbon. She was smiling, her eyes bright and very gray and staring directly at