The Sins of the Wolf - Anne Perry [10]
“Mrs. McIvor’s?”
“No, no. They’re Alastair’s. He is my eldest brother, the Fiscal.” She pulled a slight face as she said it, as if she had been in awe of him until very lately. Hester knew just how she felt, thinking of her own elder brother, Charles, who had always been a trifle forbidding and had far too little sense of the absurd. “Alec and Fergus are away at school. They are Oonagh’s sons. I daresay Robert will be going soon.” She opened the library door into the hall. She made no mention of her own family, so Hester presumed that as yet she had none. Perhaps she had not been long married.
Luncheon was not a heavy meal, and the family present were all assembled as Eilish led Hester into the dining room and indicated the chair she was to occupy. Mary Farraline sat at the head of the table, Oonagh at the foot. On the far side were Deirdra and an elderly man who so resembled the portrait in the hall that Hester was taken aback so much she found herself staring. But it was only coloring and feature, the same fair hair, now thinning drastically, fair skin, and the refined nose and sensitive mouth. The inner man was utterly different. He too had wounds of the spirit, but he gave Hester no sense of uncertainty as the portrait had done, no ambiguity; there was a sharp knowledge of pain which had overwhelmed him, and he had lost to it, while knowing exactly what it was. His blue eyes were sunken and he gazed ahead of him at no one in particular. He was introduced as Hector Farraline, and spoken of as Uncle Hector.
Hester took her seat and the first course was served. Conversation was polite, and generally meaningless; it served the purpose for which it was intended, to convey goodwill without costing any thought or distracting from the meal. Discreetly Hester looked around at their faces, which had so much in common and which circumstance and character had stamped so differently. The only ones not born Farraline were Deirdra and Mary. Where they were slender and fair and well above average height, she was small and dark and inclined to stockiness. Yet there was a fierce inner concentration in her face, a sense of controlled excitement, which gave her a warmth the others lacked. She answered when civility required it, but she did not generate any remarks. Her own thoughts apparently consumed her.
Eilish spoke sporadically, as if prompted by good manners, and in between her thoughts also filled her mind. Hester found herself looking at Eilish repeatedly, possibly because she was so beautiful it was natural to stare, but also because of a sadness she thought she could see through the thin mask of courtesy and interest.
It was left to Oonagh and Mary to raise one agreeable, uncontentious subject after another.
“How long does your journey take, Mother-in-law?” Deirdra asked, turning to Mary as soon as the main course was served.
“About twelve hours,” Mary replied. “Although most of it I shall spend asleep, so it will feel much shorter. I think it is an excellent way to travel, don’t you, Miss Latterly?”
“Indeed,” Hester agreed. “Although the little I saw of Scotland on my way here, I should imagine it is very beautiful to look at, especially at this time of the year.”
“You will have to go back during the day on your return next time,” Mary suggested. “Then you can look out of the window all the way. If it doesn’t rain, it should be really very nice.”
“I don’t know why you’re going,” Hector Farraline said, speaking for the first time. He had an excellent voice, rich in timbre, and even though a few of his words were slurred, one could tell that when he was completely sober his diction would have been beautiful—and with the faint lilt of the northern Scots, not the flatter Edinburgh accent of Mary’s speech.
“Griselda needs her, Uncle Hector,” Oonagh said patiently. “It’s a very emotional time for a woman when she is expecting her first child. It is not