The Scottish Bride - Catherine Coulter [8]
Tysen remembered Meggie saying that her aunt Sinjun would have had roads built if needed. Well, she’d certainly made the Kinross town house a work of art. Its newer neighbors were lovely as well, but Kinross House had style—old style—and it was better. It was unique.
He hoped Old Angus was still in full possession of his wits and thus would recognize him and not shoot him with his blunderbuss—a very valuable weapon, Sinjun had said to him once, and laughed. To his utter surprise, he looked up at a shout from an upper window. Then Sinjun was sticking her head out and yelling down at him. “Tysen! Is it really you? Bloody hell, we just arrived yesterday. Dahling wanted to stroll down the Royal Mile and, well, I wanted to as well. Colin is up at the Castle, speaking to Lord Stallings. Dahling and Phillip are with him, doubtless roaming through all those drafty hallways, asking endless questions of all the poor soldiers. Oh, it is so wonderful to see you. Come in, oh, yes, do come in!”
Old Angus came out of the house, looking older than the Castle, his homespuns bagging at his knees, his white hair blown all over his head, and a big smile on his seamed face. “Och, ye be Master Tysen, her ladyship’s brother, nae doubt.”
“Aye,” Tysen said, savoring that lilting word on his tongue, and dismounted from Big Blue’s back.
“Well, now, ye hae yer man just come wi’ me and we’ll see to them nice horses ye got. Aye, who’s the little pullet riding up behind?”
“My tiger. His name is Pride.”
“Aye?”
Then Sinjun was there, throwing her arms around him, hugging him until he was kissing her hair and hugging her back, and then holding her loosely in his arms, he said, “You are looking quite fit, Sinjun. And it isn’t raining, thank the good Lord.”
“And you, Tysen, are as handsome as ever. Oh, goodness, I had no idea you were coming. And just look—why ever would you do this? It is surely the most unexpected thing you’ve ever done. But why is she riding on the back of your carriage? She looks fit to drop. What have you done? Oh, I see, she demanded to do it, and you allowed it. You spoil her, Tysen.”
It took Tysen only a moment of sorting his way through his sister’s words before he had the most awful foreboding. He turned slowly to stare at his tiger, Pride.
“Well, Meggie,” Sinjun said, “come down from there and give me a hug. I’m sure I will come to understand why you’ve become your father’s tiger. Was it a wager? No, naturally, your father never wagers. I’m not certain if that is because he believes wagering to be a sin or whether he believes he doesn’t have the Sherbrooke luck and doesn’t want to lose his fortune.”
Tysen looked at his daughter, who had just pulled off her disreputable woolen hat. Her once beautiful hair was matted and oily.
He closed his eyes, looked heavenward, and without another word, turned on his heel and walked into Sinjun’s house. Luckily, the front door was wide open. Standing right inside was Agnes, Old Angus’s wife, and