“I doona know. Why would Grier pretend that she couldna send him back? Why has she allowed him to believe her dead for so long?”
Ignoring my questions, he asked one of his own.
“Did ye tell him she’s not dead?”
“Mayhap I should have, but I feared ’twould hurt him. He’s been through so much already.”
Alasdair stopped his pacing. His voice was low and quiet when he spoke.
“I told ye of the darkness I always sensed in Grier. I worry that the lass we knew is no longer the lass she is. There is a game in this that I canna understand. Whether it be loneliness or revenge, there is a design to all of it, and Grier is its creator. Ye must tell Jerry she lives. Yer memory is proof that he is at the center of all of it. He canna remain ignorant of what ye know.”
“So, ye believe I must try to help him?”
Nodding, Alasdair leaned close as if he were worried Grier was listening to us even now. Part of me wondered if she was.
“Aye, ye must. I will find another place for ye to study and learn. If Grier lives, we will see her again. I will find her and see her home. We must learn the truth.”
Shivering and exhausted, I readily accepted my brother’s open arms.
“Only days ago, I feared I would go mad from boredom. Now, I fear there is too much chaos. Change is coming for me, and I doona know if I’m ready.”
Holding me tight, Alasdair kissed the top of my head.
“Lass, ye are ready. Ye always have been. Ye are far more ready than I. I feel that yer life—the life ye were meant to live—is just beginning. I will miss ye terribly when ye leave here.”
Teasing him, I pulled away and jerked my head toward the stairs.
“’Tis time for me to begin my life with Fulton, ye mean?”
Shivering, my brother took my arm as we left the kitchen together.
“Lass, if ye marry that fool, I shall never speak to ye again.”
Laughing, we walked up the stairs, right into the path of my first suitor.
Chapter 12
Alasdair included nothing of Fulton’s appearance in his description. In my mind, I imagined that I would arrive at dinner to find a horrendously unattractive man twice my age. To my surprise, when I found my feet after running right into him, I looked up into the eyes of one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen in my life.
As tall as my brother, Fulton Fyfe had dark eyes, thick lashes and brows, and a full head of dark hair that made me want to reach up and run my fingers through it.
He looked as if he could command any room, but when he opened his mouth to speak, no words formed. He opened and closed his mouth three times before finally deciding to say nothing. Without a word, he turned and walked away.
“I told ye. Strangest man I’ve ever seen. I doona believe he’s said more than five words since he arrived.”
* * *
Upon sitting down to dinner, Alasdair and I were determined in our resolve to make certain that Father took to Jerry well enough to give him work in Kip’s stables. I knew it would be difficult. By introducing Jerry to Father as if he were Alasdair’s friend, Father would assume that Jerry was already an equal in class. To then ask Father for work would only arouse suspicion. I hoped Alasdair had something planned.
With Father at the table’s end, and Alasdair, Elspeth, and Eoin lining one side, I sat awkwardly between Jerry and Fulton.
Mary prepared a banquet of food, and I found myself eating more than my stomach could possibly hold just to keep my hands and mouth busy throughout the awkwardness of our meal together. Elspeth busied herself with Eoin, Fulton said absolutely nothing, and Alasdair and I watched on with wide eyes as Jerry charmed our father as if he’d known him his entire life.
It had been months, possibly even years, since I’d seen my father get on with someone so well. It unsettled me. My father usually liked despicable people. Did the fact that Jerry got along with him so splendidly signal something about Jerry’s character that I’d not seen during my limited interaction with him?
Most people, even those with strong personalities, would shrink a few inches in my father’s presence. They would choose their words with care and never dared say anything that might upset him. Jerry didn’t seem concerned with this at all. If anything, he sat up taller than he had at any other time I’d seen him. Not only did he say whatever came to his mind, he even dared to disagree with my father twice before the main course.
The more disagreeable and opinionated Jerry was, the more my father enjoyed him.
