Page 46 of A Stranger’s Promise

They reached the castle and were greeted by Foster and a mix of worried servants and guests. A doctor was summoned. Alistair found himself swept up the stairs. On the second floor, he came face-to-face with Lady Cassilis.

She’d heard news of the fire. “A fire? In the icehouse? How is that possible?” Her gaze fell to the green hat he still clutched and she paled.

Alistair’s thoughts snapped to attention. The woman had clearly seen the hat before. He folded it over in his hands.

She noticeably flinched, then, head held high, she sailed down the corridor toward her apartments.

He arched a brow. Perhaps, he merely had to find the owner of the hat to discover how Lady Cassilis planned to wrest Culzean from his grip.

“Your arm, my lord,” Charlotte’s soft voice sounded by his side.

Alistair looked down to see her still standing there, holding Oliver’s hand. A frown marred her brow.

He smiled gently. Those lips. How he wanted to kiss them. “I’ll tend to it now, lass,” he promised. As an afterthought, he added, “Do not forget, Miss Atchenson, I fully expect you to join me at the dinner table this evening.”

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to protest.

But he cut her off with the whispered words, “If you’re not there, I’ll fetch you down myself.”

* * *

The dinner hour found Alistair with his arm treated and properly bandaged. With the icehouse fire doused and with no real harm done, he’d settled in his study with Nicholas to ponder the recent events.

“Odd.” Nicholas tapped his long finger on his glass of whisky. “How could the lad set such a blaze?”

“He clearly didn’t set the blaze.” Alistair nodded at the hat. “The hat’s owner must have.” Again, Lady Cassilis’s reaction played in his mind. What was her relationship with the man? He rubbed his bottom lip in thought.

“I’ll ride out to Maidens in the morning. Maybe folk there have seen the hat and can shed some light on the matter,” Nicholas offered. “I’ll see what this Thomas has to say about his newfound wealth, as well. No doubt, if I buy him a drink, he’ll sing like a songbird.”

“No doubt, indeed,” Alistair agreed.

The dinner gong sounded.

Alistair thought of Charlotte and smiled. He would wager she had found some excuse to avoid dinner—not that he’d let her.

“You’re in love with her.” Nicholas’ soft voice intruded on his thoughts. “I can always tell when you’re thinking of her. Your smile betrays you.”

Alistair shrugged. Why deny it?

As the mournful strains of the pipes filled the air, they left the study and went to the dining room, each lost in their own thoughts. Alistair entered first and took in the fine dinner table set with a silver candelabra, an epergne resplendent with artificial flowers, and rare bottles of Rhenish wine, but no Charlotte.

“I fear your fair bird has flown,” Nicholas murmured at his elbow.

Alistair caught sight of his stepmother entering the room, and snorted, “No doubt, she’s been chased off by the vulture.”

Nicholas grinned.

As if sensing herself the subject of their conversation, Lady Cassilis called across the room, “Come, Alistair. Let dinner begin.”

Alistair paused. Sitting through course after course of casseroles, roasts, truffles, puddings, and Italian creams was bad enough. Add the ladies embellishing the same scandals over and over, and the thought of dinner was downright unbearable.

He strode toward the door and caught sight of Captain Edwards standing in a corner with a flower in his button hole and a container of snuff on his palm. Alistair shook his head. He would have to have a talk with Nicholas about his taste in friends.

Seeing the man only made Alistair hasten toward the exit.

“Alistair!” Lady Cassilis called. “Pray tell, where are you going?”

He paused and, unable to resist, answered, “I grow weary of hearing the same scandals, Lady Cassilis. I choose to create new ones.”