A Death in the Highlands by Caroline Dunford Read Free Book Online Page B

about.’
    ‘I hope you’re right, Rory.’
    ‘I usually am. And, Euphemia, I won’t ask what you were doing up on the gentlemen’s floor but, now we have guests in residence, I would strongly suggest you do not go unaccompanied up there again. The nature of gentlemen is not to be taken lightly.’
    Hatefully, I felt myself blush from head to toe. I dropped my eyes and said nothing. Rory walked off.
    The morning of the 11th dawned grey and drizzling, quite unlike how I understood the month of August to be, but then we were in the wild north and who knew what was normal here? Certainly, no one seemed that put out by the drizzle. The only difference it seemed to make to the local people was the men squashed tweed caps on their heads and the women moved their shawls from around their shoulders to cover their hair. I sat in my parlour going over the menus one last time and attempting not to be dispirited by the patter of rain against the window. In a fit of extravagance I had even asked for a small fire to be lit in the grate and the whispering crackle of the flames was as comforting as the small heat they gave.
    My peace was interrupted when my door burst open. Lord Richard, wearing a face like thunder, huffed into the room. ‘You’ll have to meet me guests. Damned bloody locals.’
    I had risen from my desk automatically. ‘Of course, if you think it proper, sir. But wouldn’t Mr Bertram …’
    ‘I’ll be taking him with me,’ growled Lord Richard. ‘Try not to offend anyone, girl. Give them my apologies. Tell them I’m dealing with, er, local issues . Not that the bastards won’t work it out for themselves.’ He then went on to employ a very colourful expression on his feelings about being taken for a fool. It is not something I can bring myself to record here.
    I hardly knew how to respond to this extraordinary outburst but I did not have to, as yet again Rory came to my rescue. He popped his head around the door and offered to accompany Lord Richard in Mr Bertram’s place.
    ‘Won’t do, McLeod. Your sway with the locals isn’t as strong as you thought. It’ll need two pukka gentlemen to sort this out.’
    Rory’s face closed in upon itself. He replied with a very polite, ‘As you wish, sir.’ I didn’t need to be a mind-reader to know he was seething inside. I tried to catch his eye with a sympathetic glance. Unfortunately Lord Richard noticed and as usual misinterpreted my actions.
    ‘Besides, need someone to keep the wench in order, what!’ he barked. ‘Has a tendency to go chasing after toffs. I’m relying on you to keep her in order, McLeod. Don’t get distracted by those big, seemingly innocent dark eyes. She’s as cunning as a vixen,’ declared Lord Richard and departed, leaving me gasping for breath at his rudeness.
    ‘That man is insufferable,’ I finally managed to say.
    ‘Aye,’ said Rory, shortly, and exited. I knew him well enough to understand that to utter a criticism of any kind of his employer was anathema to him. I began to have hope that he would understand the extraordinary nature of the Staplefords. The question was how to encourage such understanding without hastening his departure. Rory might have an unfashionable accent, but he was proving to be an excellent butler and a potential ally among this house of monsters. That he was not unattractive, of course, had no bearing on my desire for him to stay in his post.
    The first guest to arrive almost wholly overturned my composure. I was notified in good time of a carriage mounting the driveway and had installed myself at the foot of the stairs. The senior footman had been briefed to meet the valets and drivers at the servants’ entrance and Merry had allocated their quarters. Rory opened the door on the first ring and ushered our first guest across to me.
    He was a gentleman of medium height, dressed neatly in the first style of fashion, but without ostentation – something that is most difficult to achieve. His dark