Page 57 of Death at a Highland Wedding
He’s teasing me—and he clearly means my hope with Hugh and Isla—but it recalls too much of that conversation I just had with Simon, and I shift in my seat. Then I cover it with a roll of my eyes. “Hidden hope? My hopes for those two are not at all hidden. At least not from the guy who shares them. You would like to see some movement there, yes?”
He sighs dramatically. “I have been waiting foryearsto see some movement there. I know they cannot be rushed, particularly with Isla’s widowhood, but they are taking a damnable long time to get to it.”
He glances out to watch them as they disappear from view. “In full confession, I had even entertained hopes that this shared getaway—to a wedding no less—might spur them along. Which only proves I am terribly obtuse when it comes to evaluating emotional situations.”
I smile. “Hoping your sister hooks up with Hugh at his sister’s wedding… with his ex-fiancée in attendance?”
“Define ‘hook up’? I am beginning to think I understand what it means, but when you put it in that context, I wonder whether I’m wrong.”
“Nah, you just hope you’re wrong because you’re a very proper Victorian who wishes for his sister to have a very proper romance, which will end in a very proper marriage.”
His eyes narrow. “Now you are mocking me.”
“Perish the thought.” I lean back. “I would only mock you if you were startled by the thought of your widowed sister having an affair. It is not as if you’ve done any such thing yourself with widowed women.”
Color touches his cheeks as his eyes narrow more.
I continue, “Your sister will do what she wants, and if you hope to see her happily married, I might remind you that she has been married, and it was not happy. That can have a… chilling effect.”
He thumps back in his seat. “I had not considered that. You are right, of course.” He gazes out the window. “You are also correct that I am being hypocritical. In my defense, I would not begrudge Isla any joy, including an affair. But yes, my ultimate hope would be to see her in a happy marriage. Not because I think women should be married, but as compensation of a sort. Making up for the hell Lawrence put her through.” He looks at me. “Is that patronizing?”
I reach to touch his knee, my fingers barely grazing it. “No, it’s kindness and caring. In the end, it might be what Isla wants, but don’t be surprised if it’s not. My bigger concern is that, if it’s what Hugh wants and she refuses…” I pull back and shake my head. “That’s putting the cart well before the horse, and also none of my business.”
“As we both want the best for them, I believe we can consider their happiness our business. Thank you for pointing out that she may be hesitant.”
I nod. “She’s gun-shy. I’m not sure that’s a saying here but—”
“Dr. Gray! Mallory!” A voice comes from outside the partially open window. We’re drawing up on the house, and Fiona is running toward us, skirts hiked, Violet following at a brisk walk.
Gray raps the roof for Simon to stop, and he barely has the door open before Fiona is there.
“Have you seen Hugh?” she says. “I cannot find him anywhere, and we need him immediately.”
Gray and I glance at each other, neither quick to say McCreadie is with Isla.
Fiona doesn’t wait for an answer. “His boots are gone, and he did not tell anyone he was leaving, and we need him now.”
“What has happened?” Gray asks.
“That man—that constable.” Fiona spits the words, her hazel eyes flashing. “That insufferable fool has… has…”
She seems unable to get the words out in her anger, sputtering until Violet moves up beside her.
“Constable Ross has taken Archie,” Violet says. “He has arrested him for Ezra’s murder.”
NINETEEN
We are heading out with only Violet. She managed to steer Fiona back into the house, telling her she needed to be there in case McCreadie returned. I breathe a sigh of relief at that. Fiona is adorable, even in her fury… though I’m sure she’d hate me saying that. Her fury, though, also means she’s not the best person to calmly tell us what happened, and she’s not likely to stay silent while Violet explains.
Once Fiona is gone, Gray seems to realize where we are going and looks over at me in alarm. I shake my head, hoping he’ll correctly interpret that to mean I’m aware and will handle it. I’m not leading Violet to where Isla and McCreadie are sharing a private moment. I wouldn’t do that to any of them.
“Archie went without complaint?” Gray asks as we walk down the road toward the ponds.
“I do not believe my brother is capable of doing anything without complaint,” she says tartly. Then her voice drops. “Except agreeing to marry Fiona. That surprised me. I thought he would bluster and rage and refuse. He did not. He knew…”
Her fingers press into her skirt in a smoothing gesture. “It was necessary, and he did it, and it was the same here. In this case, he initially objected. As did I. Fiona objected most strenuously. Even Mrs. Hall came out to see what was the matter and told Constable Ross he was making amistake. But Archie’s protests were the least strident. He calmed us and told us Hugh would set this straight and he would be fine.”
I certainly hope so, though I bite my tongue and let Gray continue the questions.
