Chapter Eleven #2
“Lady Rayland and I chose a quiet marriage ceremony when Parliament broke last July. Her Ladyship wished to be in her new home before I had to return to London for the new session,” Rayland explained.
Aaran wondered how rehearsed were Rayland’s explanations and why his stepmother rushed the exchange of vows.
Rayland still required an heir for the barony, and Lady Eímear was a bit long in the tooth, though likely still able to produce a son or a daughter, for she had been but little more than a girl when his father had married her.
Aaran finally spoke. “I saw Boyde briefly in London; therefore, I chose to call upon him earlier today. In fact, we met along the lane leading to your manor house.”
“I was not aware,” Rayland said with a frown, “but my stepson customarily seeks his mother’s advice and company, rather than mine.
Did you also take the acquaintance of the vicar’s niece?
When Her Ladyship learned of her son’s calling on the young lady, Lady Rayland also rushed off to greet Mrs. Turner’s niece.
I understand the lady is also Scottish.”
“Yes, Lord Cunningham’s daughter,” Thompson explained. “The young lady is well known to our family.”
“I see,” Rayland began, but Duncan cut him off.
“Though it was good that young Lord Pitcairn spoke of what occurred today, it might have been a better idea if your stepson spoke to you. It seems after assisting with Lady Freya’s escape from one of your prize bulls, my son, your stepson, and the lady were shot at by a man whose trail leads us back to your manor house.
Naturally, we are concerned if someone mistook what he might have thought were strangers on your land,” Duncan said with such calm, Aaran knew amazement.
“Assuredly, you, too, wish to know of someone accidentally or purposely attacking people of rank upon your land.”
“No one would purposely shoot at Lord Pitcairn,” Rayland declared.
“But would they purposely shoot at my son or Cunningham’s daughter?” Duncan countered.
“Such was not what I meant,” Rayland declared. “I simply meant someone was likely hunting game birds and did not realize he came close to other people. Obviously, I am thankful no one was harmed.”
Aaran added, “We were standing together under the large oak near the main drive, meaning we stood on a hillside with only one tree and a small bench. Nothing else. Not even leaves on the tree. The person missed us because he was shooting upward. The bullet lodged in the bench. I dug it out with my knife. We three would have been easy to view. I sent Boyde to escort Lady Freya home safely, and I followed the person’s tracks, which led to the back of your barn. ”
“Such does not mean it was someone I employ. It could have been a tenant farmer or a complete stranger. Kent is a very busy shire what with London so close and the access to the sea. But know that I will question Boyde and my staff. Heaven forbid someone would know harm on Rayland land. I shan’t tolerate such foolishness. ”
As they made their return to Thom Manor, Duncan noted a familiar face in the Hawkins village and pulled up on his reins. “MacAlasdair, is that you?” Duncan called.
“Aye,” the man said as he turned to look upon them with a smile. “Duncan? What brings you to these parts? I thought you’d be in London for Parliament.” The man approached and reached a gloved hand up to Duncan.
Duncan leaned down to accept the man’s hand. “I’ve come to Kent for my son’s marriage. You thought I’d be in London, and I assumed you were still in Edinburgh and teaching.”
The man shrugged to present an air of obvious innocence, but Aaran noted the sharp set of the man’s jaw.
He also knew the fellow casually from Scotland, for Donegal MacAlasdair had long been one of Duncan’s acquaintances, though over the years their relationship had become strained.
Duncan and MacAlasdair had known each other since their days at school.
But after today’s attack, Aaran thought it was too convenient that such a “friend” from Duncan’s past, as well as from Scotland, could also be in a small village in Kent.
The idea had Aaran studying the man with more interest.
“I am teaching a series of seminars at Rochester for the next few months. Lord and Lady Rayland have offered me better accommodations than I might find elsewhere.”
As Aaran had expected, the “ah-ha” moment had arrived.
Though he had never seen the two together, Aaran had often heard the rumors of his stepmother being MacAlasdair’s mistress long before she became Lady Graham.
Some said Aaran’s father had excused many of MacAlasdair’s debts to permit the elder Lord Graham to speak his vows to Lady Eímear Boyde, with MacAlasdair essentially selling the woman to the previous Lord Graham.
The elder Aaran Graham had spoken to MacAlasdair’s superiors, saying a renowned scholar of religion should not be enjoying intimacies with a woman without the vows of marriage spoken beforehand.
MacAlasdair was to lose his occupation and his reputation, but all was resolved when Lady Eímear agreed to become the earl’s wife and mother of his children.
His father had been a fool to think MacAlasdair and Lady Eímear would know an end to their relationship.
Some said a fight between the two men had prefaced his father’s sudden death from a fall off a barn’s roof.
“Have you called at Rayland’s manor?” MacAlasdair asked as he eyed Aaran suspiciously.
“Just a social call on Graham’s extended family,” Duncan responded in well-practiced and nonchalant tones. “Evidently, Lady Rayland was making social calls, as well. We did not encounter her today,” Duncan explained.
“Perhaps we might supper together before you must return to London,” MacAlasdair suggested.
“It does seem like only yesterday when you and your Beatrice and Elsbeth and I spent time together,” Duncan said in what sounded of sentimentality, but Aaran was studying MacAlasdair’s features, which sported a slight snarl.
“Our lives have taken different paths since those days. We were young then, likely younger than the sons you and Lady Elsbeth raised as your own. You have made your mark on life. On British society. If Lady Elsbeth had survived, God only knows the additional accolades you would have known. Me also with Beatrice.” A heavy sigh followed the man’s speech, but to Aaran it sounded too rehearsed.
“We should return to Thompson’s estate,” Duncan repeated dutifully. “I am confident the ladies are waiting our return for the midday meal. I will send around word, and we might meet and address our memories of school and being young men. A village street is not the appropriate venue.”
As they rode away, Aaran heard MacAlasdair mumble, “You were always one for what is and is not appropriate, old friend.” The tone was not reminiscent, but rather threatening.
More importantly, Aaran supposed, was the fact that Duncan turned his head to watch the man walk away.
“Something odd?” Aaran asked.
“Nothing I can quite place my thumb on at the moment, but I was just wondering when MacAlasdair found himself a limp. Did he have to jump out a window to escape an angry husband or his longtime mistress?”
In a little over a half hour, they returned to Thom Manor; Orson and Marksman and all the ladies were in the sitting room, and Aaran felt the weight of loneliness again. He was a single in a world filled with couples.
“Did you learn anything new?” Miss Whitchurch asked as Thompson sat beside his betrothed and claimed the lady’s hand and rested it on his thigh.
Duncan responded first. “We have a mold of the footprint of the person who shot at Aaran. We spoke to Rayland, who claimed no knowledge of such a person, as well as promised to speak to Lady Rayland of the incident.”
“Where was Lady Rayland?” Orson asked.
“As far as we could tell, Her Ladyship made a house call on the vicarage,” Beaufort supplied.
“I questioned one of Rayland’s tenants regarding a stranger in a dark coat and the whereabouts of his master and mistress.
He said he had viewed Lady Rayland calling upon Mr. Turner’s vicarage but knew nothing of a man in a dark coat.
However, we do not know Her Ladyship’s purpose until we speak to Lady Freya.
The only other person he had seen about was the mistress’s lady’s maid washing out some of Lady Rayland’s clothes, which I thought was odd.
Would not a wash woman be doing that, especially on a chilly February day? ”
“I suppose if it were something special and the lady’s maid wished it to be done correctly, it would be possible,” Lady Orson said.
“Though it is a bit odd. Perhaps we ladies should call on Lady Freya tomorrow. Theodora may reclaim the acquaintance of Cunningham’s daughter.
I assume they know each other as both their fathers represent Scotland in the Lords,” Her Ladyship suggested.
“I think yours is an excellent idea,” Lady Annalise declared. “I do not like the idea of Lady Freya in possible danger.”
“We are all in danger,” Lady Emma corrected. “It is part of being married to one of Duncan’s sons. Each of us are survivors of our own personal dramas. An ordinary woman would never satisfy any of Duncan’s sons, nor would an ordinary man interest any of his daughters.”
Orson chuckled. “See why I presented Lady Orson my heart.”