Delivering a Package | Saturday the 17th – mid-late morning

[Duncan Melville]

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MacGregor/MacBain rental property

A pretty Tudor-style home with four bedrooms, a dining room, parlor, and library.  A small stable that can hold 3 horses and tack and carriage resides on the property as well.  A walled garden, most of it settling down to slumber for the winter, completes the rental. Perfect for 5 females.

 

A gray stallion stopped in front of the pretty townhouse. Slowly, a man dismounted, tied the reigns to the post, and walked towards the door carrying a small, wrapped package on his left hand. The man was dressed in a black linen riding suit with silver thread detailing, white shirt, black cravat, soft, high black boots, and a tricorn decorated in the same fashion and pattern as the suit. The only piece of jewellery that could be seen was a silver ring with a central garnet and carved scrollwork on his left hand.

Knock! Knock, knock! The man used the head of his riding crop.

As the door was opened, he nodded towards the servant without a hint of a smile, and asked with a slight Scotch accent: “Is Lady Alyth receiving? I bring a package from Melville Castle that I must deliver to her personally”. He lifted his left hand, showing a package no larger than a man’s hand. The package was too small to be a weapon, but the man did carry a basket-hilt sword on his left side.

The man’s face was gaunt and thin, with dark circles under his eyes, about what you would expect from an undertaker. He moved slowly, purposefully, as if either he was sick, or he had ridden all the way from Lothian without stopping and thus his whole body ached.

[Catriona MacGregor]

The butler/guard was familiar with the Melville name and it's importance to the Alyth household.  The fact that the rider had made it to the door without being stopped by any of the guards was a point in the man's favor.  "If you'll follow me to the parlor, I will go notify my lady," the servant said, stepping back to allow the rider entry, ready to take the man's hat if offered.

[Duncan Melville]

The black-clad man silently did as told, handing his hat and crop to the butler. Once in the parlour, the man did not sit, which might speak of a ride that was longer than comfortable or of being in a hurry. Perhaps both.

He did take his time to take in his surroundings, his eyes darting here and there, taking mental note of the furniture, any sounds from both inside and outside the house, and whatever could be seen through the window.

I wonder what she will say when she opens the package.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Cat had been in the kitchen, finishing up the basket of sweets and treats she was taking over to Sophia's.  The cook was making her annoyance known with little huffs and puffs, but Cat said nothing.  It wasn't easy finding someone who could work around her allergies.  When the guard came to fetch her, a puzzled look first flitted to her face before it calmed.  Surely all was fine with Lord Melville.  She told a maid to make up a pot of tea and bring it in, then strode into the parlor.

 

Wearing one of her few non-blue dresses, this one was in a forest green, with embroidery of gold vines and flowers.  Her hair was up in a coronet braid around her head.  She hadn't put on her jewelry yet, having to deal with the basket first.  "Good morning.  I'm Lady Alyth.  I understand you have something to deliver to me from Melville Castle.  Would you like something to drink?"  She didn't like the black clothing the man was wearing.  It put her in mind of too many funerals.

[Duncan Melville]

As Lady Alyth entered the parlour, the gaunt man turned towards the young lady with a grave look and tear-filled eyes. As he was about to start speaking, he choked on the words. He had had to be strong, for the sake of the name of Melville, but at that point he had no inner strength left.

A few moments passed.

And then, a coarse, broken voice that she should recognize said: “She is gone, lass, my Book Mouse is gone. She just faded away, the poor thing. There was nothing the doctors could do. They still do not know why…”

A silent single tear raced from the inner corner of his left eye.

Under the road dust cacked with sweat, and beneath the tight skin and thin look, there stood Duncan, shoulders hunched, looking utterly defeated.

“As her day of passing drew close, she gave me this package, and with a weak voice made me promise to give it to you”. The Viscount slowly raised his hand, intending to give Cat the package. “I went to Chelsea first, to your house there, and they told me you were here and gave me directions. I just got on Earn and rode. Here it is. I do not know what it contains”.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Oh dear Lord, Cat thought as she recognized the gaunt man before her.  His words hit her and, throwing propriety into the wind, she walked right for him.  Not caring he was dusty and likely smelled horrible, she made to wrap him up in her arms.  "Oh, Duncan," she said.  Duncan was family, even if not by blood.  It was her duty to take care of him in his time of mourning.

[Duncan Melville]

The package momentarily forgotten, Duncan accepted her hug. Truth be told, he needed it. His mother had been a source of strength, and Beatrice and Balcarres had visited and helped as much as they could. But, in the end, the soul-wrenching loneliness was his own to accept, endure, and heal from, or so he thought until that point. He allowed grief to take over at that moment. He had not allowed it to happen before.

A lonely sob escaped from his throat before he could gain composure. For the military man, that one sob made a great difference.

"She was not born to nobility, and she was not a court beauty", the Viscount said, "but she had a gentle soul with a keen mind for languages and numbers..." she was a hawk when it came to ledgers, something the Melville estate had greatly benefited from. "But what I miss the most is how she cared for me. She truly loved me, lass, and I truly loved her". Another, almost imperceptible sob. "And now she is gone".

Realizing that the hug had lasted far longer than it should have, but appreciating it immensely nonetheless, Duncan slowly withdrew half a step. He lifted the package once again. "Will you now please accept whatever she sent you?" His need of Cat accepting whatever Ophelia had sent could be easily heard in his voice.

Edited December 29, 2022 by Duncan Melville

[Catriona MacGregor]

Cat would have held Duncan as long as he needed, but Scots, whether from the Highlands or Lowlands, were prideful people, so she let him go when he started to pull back.  "Ophelia was more beautiful than most court beauties because she had a beautiful soul," amended to his statements of his wife's attributes.  "Just remember, in this house, you don't have to be strong.  God knows I wasn't," she added.

 

She took the package that her friend had carried all the way down from Scotland for her.  Cat carefully went to open it.  Who knew if the jostling of riding had shifted anything that might be breakable.  She was not going to allow anything to happen to whatever Ophelia sent her.

[Duncan Melville]

The sturdy oiled packing paper disposed of, there was a simple, yet elegant box made of French black walnut with brass furnishings and oiled to a high sheen. Inside were two items. The first was a note written on parchment with an elegant feminine hand. It read:

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My dear Lady Alyth,

As death draws nearer, I find myself worrying about my husband. He could lose a thousand military battles and come out of each stronger and more determined, but I fear this battle he might not come out of unscathed. He will need help.

In the time I have spent in Scotland, I have learned a little about Scottish ways. The importance of family for example. You are family to him and, as far as I understand, he is to you. I ask that you please help him through what I think will be very hard for him.

Some time ago, my Lord Husband bought a few items at an estate auction. He has given most of them away as gifts to others, but he first kept, and then gave me the last one. You will find it at the bottom of this box. Please keep it safe until your daughter is old enough to wear it as a symbol of the closeness between your family and ours. I bequeath it to her. Hopefully one day your daughter and mine will be the friends that the two of us should have been.

Your humble and obedient servant,

Ophelia Melville

 

Under the note, wrapped in blue velvet, was the pendant in the shape of a Greek Orthodox cross, encrusted with rubies and sapphires, that Duncan had won at the auction of widow Lucinda Wyatt's estate.

[Catriona MacGregor]

A few Gaelic curses and blessings ran through Cat's mind as she read Ophelia's letter and saw the necklace.  Reaching into her bodice, she pulled out a handkerchief and, after putting the box down so she wouldn't drop it or the treasure inside, she let the tears drip down as she carefully swiped them away.  

 

"Your wife was a treasure.  A true lady," she said, her voice slightly strangled.  A maid slipped in and left the tea and snacks that Cat had requested, being quiet.  Clearing her throat (three times) so she could add, "She sent Nessia a necklace that you won at the auction," a pause, collecting herself, "so that our families would always be connected.  Not that she needed to do that.  You're family."  There was finality in her words, as if to tell Duncan not to argue.  He likely had heard it enough from his wife.  "Now, you look like you haven't eaten or slept," she made a little sniff to also punctuate the smell issue.  "You will eat and have a nice cup of tea while I have a bath set up for you."  Where she was going to put him, she wasn't certain, but she'd figure something out.  For now, in her room.  "Is Ellen with your sister or your mother?"  

[Duncan Melville]

“Aye, she was. She did things like paying for the burials of those whose relatives could not afford to, and visiting the tenants to see if there was any unusual need they were not able to burden. The night she was buried there were more commoners crying for her than nobility. Children brought flowers for Ellen and my mother. Local Barons and Lords of Parliament attended, and even a few Covenanters dared to pay their respects covertly…” tears ran freely from both eyes. “As for the Byzantine Cross, I had thought it lost. I am happy that she sent it to your daughter. A gem deserves a gem”.

Then the tone changed. Cat sounded like his old tutors, and Duncan hoped there was no birching to be received. “I have slept and eaten little for weeks on end. Do you happen to have some scones?” Cat might remember a breakfast they had shared in her house at Chelsea, some months before. Duncan had eaten a dozen scones then, perhaps more. “As for a bath, I am so sore that I have neither the strength, nor the inclination, to object. Besides, I do not remember when was the last time I took one”. Finding the nearest chair, he simply slumped. The piece of furniture creaked but held. Perhaps the Viscount had lost too more weight than was apparent.

At the mention of his daughter, the Lowlander smiled weakly. “Ellen is with my mother at the castle. The dowager told me in no uncertain terms that the Balcarres are but recently married and they needed to make their own children, not take care of mine. I guess she also needed to grieve in her own way, hugging and kissing her granddaughter while at it. Sometimes mothers know best”.

Edited December 29, 2022 by Henry Grey

[Catriona MacGregor]

The fact that Ophelia was well mourned was not missed by Cat.  Nor did it come as a surprise.  She wanted to give Duncan another hug, but first things first.  "Aye, we've scones.  You're in luck," she said then went to the door and requested the scones, clotted cream and jams and that a bath was to be set up in her room.  With the tea would be fig dumplings, shortbread and oatmeal biscuits, and other sweets that Cat had made during her round of angry baking.  The scones had been done in the middle of the night, while the cook was sleeping, when she had a burst of insomnia again.  She was never one to waste any time.  As such, she jotted off a quick note to Sophia. Duncan needed her more, to her thoughts.

 

"Well, she can always join my nursery if you wish to have her near.  What is another girl in the gaggle?"  Though there was still the Fiona fiasco, but she was definitely not going to be distracted.  Duncan first, everything else later.  "I can understand your Mother's stand.  Goodness knows, Nessie was my lifeline," she said, stopping short of adding 'after Adam died'.  The maid she had sent to the kitchen slipped in and deposited the scones and additives on the end table by Duncan.  There was no way Lady Alyth would be eating all that and the Captain wasn't here.  That left the food to be for the dusty gentleman.  Once the maid slipped out, she pointed at the plate and said simply, "Eat."

[Duncan Melville]

There were things that were better left unvoiced, lest the pain increase. The name of his dear and departed friend, Adam MacGregor, was one of them. Cat and Duncan remembered him every time they met, but they tried not to mention him. It was better to let the sea keep her dead. It was better to let the dead rest.

The scones were superb, and Duncan ate all of them without counting. The clotted cream and fruit jams were gone in the blink of an eye too. The shortbread, dumplings, and black bun were next. Servants would now be able to comment that there was a man who could eat almost as much as the Captain, and almost as quickly. By the time he had gone through everything, the tea was gone too. With a full belly, exhaustion set in. Without even noticing, the viscount fell asleep.

It was then that Cat noticed a folded piece of paper that had been part of the package, one that seemed to have been a later addition, as it had not been inside the box. Would she pick it up?

[Catriona MacGregor]

Cat opted not to wake Duncan, though he'd likely have one heck of a pain in his neck.  The poor man.  He could stink up the parlor for a more.  As she was getting the plates ready to be taken by the maids, she noticed the additional piece of paper.  Since it was inside the wrap, she supposed, she should read it.  If it proved to be for Duncan, she'd stop immediately.  Trying to be as quiet as possible so her exhausted friend could finally relax, she opened the note.

[Duncan Melville]

The note was written in the same type of parchment as the first one and by the same person, but the lines were much less perfect and a little erratic, with blotches at certain points, as if the person writing was tired and her hand needed to rest. It read:

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My dear Lady Alyth,

This may be the last thing I write. The doctors had previously given me hope, but from the looks of them I am now certain I am not long for this world. Please, as the good friend Duncan says you are, please find him a wife that grows to love him as much as I did. He is not a man that can be alone. He needs someone to take care of him. But he is also a man that can make the right woman happy.

Ophelia

 

The signature was barely readable, but recognizable because of the previous note.

[Catriona MacGregor]

If that isn't a tall order, I don't know what is.  Oh, she wasn't arguing the fact that Duncan needed to be taken care of, but to find someone half as perfect for him as Ophelia?  Well, she'd do her best and in the meantime, he had Cat to take care of him.  He'd need his time to grieve properly, but there was no way she would let him slip to where she had gone.  That dark pit of despair when all seemed bleak and meaningless.  Oh, it was fine for her, but in this, the Scotswoman was a hypocrite.  Taking a blanket from a nearby chest, the faint aroma of Highland heather wafted from the fabric as she gently placed it over the sleeping Lowlander.  In a whisper, she murmured, "I've got you, my friend."

[Duncan Melville]

<sometime later>

THUD!!! The whole house felt the impact as a heavy object hit the parlour’s planked floor.

A very disoriented and disheveled Duncan got up, not knowing where he was at first. As soon as he could take the blanket off, his left hand went to his belt, immediately finding his sword. So, I am not a prisoner. A slower but equally automatic motion of his right hand towards the boot on the same side found his dagger. Where am I?

As he looked around with a puzzled look, he slowly remembered. That he had made it a point to take a good look at the place when he had entered it helped immensely. I am at Cat’s house in Windsor. Everything came slowly back. She hugged me, cried with me, fed me, and told me I was to have a bath.

The Viscount sniffed. I stink! Not even the heather from the blanket could cover the smell. Poor lass, putting up with this!

He stood in the center of the room, not knowing what to do, hoping a servant would arrive.

[Catriona MacGregor]

A maid came scurrying into the room to find out what had happened.  "Milord?  Are you alright?  Milady is in the kitchen.  I can go fetch her?," she offered.  The accent of the Lowlands tinted her voice. 

 

"No need to worry, Agnes, I'm here," came the familiar voice of Cat.  Duncan would notice that she had changed into a more stay-at-home dress and there was a streak of flour across her cheek and a handprint on the skirt.  "I've a new batch of scones baking now.  Your bath is ready, though I'll send the footmen up with hot water to refresh the temperature.  Did you bring a change of clothes?"  Mother Hen Cat was in full force.

[Duncan Melville]

Agnes’ Lowlander accent helped Duncan relax. He was among his people. Had he crashed in some other place like the Low Countries, Spain, or France, it would have been far more difficult.

Then Cat’s voice. His shoulders relaxed visibly. More scones! May God be praised! Scotland may have been roughly treated by men, but God took care of his own… or the devil, depending on who you asked. But all Scotch would say scones were a necessity of life.

“A bath sounds about right, Cat. You will need to get the stench out of the parlour once I vacate. Please forgive me”. He would have to make it up to her somehow. “As for clothes, have your servants check outside to see if William is already here. He was to go to the Castle first, and make sure my room there was ready. He can hasten and fetch everything I need”. If his manservant had not arrived yet, Cat would know where to send word. “As for what I wear right now, either give it a good wash and give it to someone in need. I do not recall the last time I took it off”.

Duncan and Cat were similar in that regard. Why throw away something that someone else could use? Being Scotch meant learning to be frugal, to make the schilling last as long as one could, for the good of all. Hand-me-downs were not as looked down on in Scotland as in England. The same train of thought had them employ ex soldiers. Cat was better at it than Duncan, but the Lowlander also employed relatives of war veterans as much as he could.

“As for the scones…” Duncan was not hungry yet, but he thought he would soon be again. “I think I can give them time to get out of the oven and cool some”. It had all been sweets to that point, and sweets did not make for good muscles. “Would you happen to have kippers, lox, ham, or any other meat at hand? I feel like I need to feed the wolf!”

Slowly, Duncan was coming back from the brink. The mention of his inner wolf was a feeble attempt at lightening the mood.

[Catriona MacGregor]

"With all the animals Aileen ends up 'rescuing', we've discovered some great methods of getting out odors," Cat replied.  She sent the maid to get one of the guards to go find William if he hadn't already arrived.  For a moment, she thought how right she had been to give up her room in the Palace as it seemed that someone needed it.  You work in mysterious ways, she thought towards their Maker.  As she led him out of the parlor, a trio of footmen, all much larger than usual for an English footman, were trooping up to her room.  

 

The nanny, also an Agnes, was just stepping out of the room with Nessie in her arms.  The littlest of the female horde under Cat's wing, she had been napping.  She blinked her eyes at the stranger, dark like her father's.  "Not Doggie," the little girl stated.   Cat smiled at her daughter.  "Correct, this is Uncle Duncan, who smells so he's going to take a bath.  You get to go play with Auntie Shona and Aileen."  She dropped a quick kiss on the dark curly hair then waved Duncan into the room.  A screen had been set up around the tub for privacy.  Two buckets of hot water had been added to the water but another two stood at the ready to increase the temperature should Duncan wish.  "Leave everything with Jack," she said, waving at the guard who doubled as her swordmaster.  "If William isn't back before you're finished, I have a shirt and pants of Adam's that have yet to be reworked to fit me.  You made it just in time.  Now you won't have to wear one of my dresses!"  

[Henry Grey]

“Aileen will grow up to have one of the greatest deer parks in the Three Realms”, Duncan said lightly, “problem is, she will let no one hunt in it!” She was still young, of course, but she was already showing signs that she would become as protective as her older sister. “Have you considered having her trained by a Wise Woman? They do know what they do, even though I cannot understand it”. The Lowlander was a God-fearing man, but he had seen people come back from near death, and babies being delivered safely, by doing things the doctors balked at. Sadly, not even they could save my Book Mouse. A passing sadness in his eyes.

As Nessie declared that he was not Douglas, or not a dog, he was not sure which although both would be correct, he smiled weakly and said, “no, not Doggie, lassie. Dunc. Uncle Dunc”. No one called him that, not even his mother or sister. Perhaps the little one would? “And yes, I smell bad. So, I must bathe now”. He undid his belt, removed his dagger from the boot, and gave Cat his weapons. She he trusted implicitly. Others would have to gain his trust.

The undressing process behind the screen was slow, and painful. Anyone getting a peek of his torso would be able to see a number of scars, some had been bullets, other blade slashes, two were even pike punctures. Duncan was alive because he had not gone into death willingly. Enemies had tried their best to speed him along, though. He then immersed himself in the hot water. “Another bucket, please”. It had been hot enough for a normal bath, but he needed the heat to take the ache out of his muscles.

“Please, talk to me. Make sure I do not fall asleep. I do not want to go to the Great Beyond by drowning in a bath tub”.

[Catriona MacGregor]

"Shona is the one training with a wise woman," Cat informed Duncan.  She left out the tiny detail that she was as well, mainly involving helpful remedies and some that would assist someone meet their maker, and that the woman was the governess/nanny. "She has developed a keen interest in medicine. While in London, she would often accompany me to the Veteran's Hospital on my weekly visits.  It really is a shame women aren't allowed to have formal training."

 

The additional bucket was added while Cat secured the weapons along side her own and Adam's (they were perfectly good even if she couldn't use them properly) then sat, out of sight but within speaking distance.  "Jack, should it look like Lord Melville wants to sleep underwater, please drag him upright.  Duncan, Jack is my current teacher in regards to the sword.  And he's mean about it."  The man in question smirked, the dark eye patch firmly in place.  A bar of soap, one not scented with flowers, was nearby as were linen squares to allow Duncan to get what grime he could off.

 

"I'm not mean, my lady.  I'm just making sure you don't end up on the wrong end of a sword," he replied, his Scottish/French accent clear.

 

"That's why you had me fall on my face in front of the Russian Ambassador?"  She still was smarting over that.

 

The guard gave a Gallic shrug.  "How was I supposed to know who he was?  Besides, you are the one who insisted on practicing not in your own yard but in the Palace.  Do not fault me for your choices, my lady."  At Cat's harrumph, the former soldier said to Duncan, "You agree, no?  Actions have consequences and milady must accept that not everyone will defer to her pretty looks."  He had seen the scars and knew Duncan to be a fellow soldier.  

 

There was a sniff from the other side of the screen.  The men didn't have to be able to see Cat's face to know she was rolling her eyes.  

[Duncan Melville]

“Shona will make one great Medicine Woman, whether formally trained or not. Get her a Culpepper book. She will profit greatly from it”. Perhaps I should get her the book. “So, Shona is good with helping people, and Aileen is good at helping animals. What is Fiona up to these days?” Duncan was trying to catch up with Cat’s family news. He intended to ask about Douglas next.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Jack. Duncan Melville, erstwhile Major of Dumbarton’s Regiment and Brigade Major under Turenne in the Continent. I am afraid my swordsmanship is not elegant, although I once wrote to Basselard, wanting to correct that”. The Viscount was sure Jack would know who Basselard was. “Sadly, I never got to it. I would like to learn how to use the main gauche”*.

The exchange between the man of arms and his employer made Duncan smile. “A Russian Ambassador? How tall was his hat?” A Russian in England was not a common occurrence. “The taller the hat, the more important the man”, he explained.

Then Duncan got serious. It seemed Jack was not a run of the mill yes-man. “He has it right, lass”, the Lowlander said in a grave tone. “Once you take up a blade and it is killing time, there must be no hesitation. If he made you lose your footing in front of an Ambassador, that is something you will never forget, which is a plus in my book”. Duncan knew Cat’s training was no passing fad. But to make sure one got alive out of anything one got into, one’s mindset had to change. “Do not make it easy for her, Master Jack. She will thank you later, I am certain, and so will I”.

“Please, add the other bucket”. Muscles were beginning to unknot.

As the heat worked himself into his body, Duncan relaxed. To keep himself from falling asleep, instead of talking, a song came to his lips, a song he had almost forgotten.

 

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"As the cornet calls for charging ever forward,

As the soldier mourns his fallen friends now dead,

As the Jew is kicked out of every city onwards,

We all weep, far away from home.

 

As pipes wail, calling marching order,

As dragoons raise their sabers thick with blood,

As pilgrims struggle to reach a holy mountain,

We all weep, far away from home.

 

 As guitars cry besides the bright bonfire,

As Guards storm the enemy's last stand,

As Gypsies dream of a land to call their own forever,

We all weep, far away from home.

 

 The music is sad, whatever the sound,

The soldiers all bleed, whatever their rank,

The homeless all look, for a place to call home,

And we all do weep, far away from home".

 

I wonder what happened to Dame Martha?

* OOC: main gauche (left hand), a dagger about a foot and a half in length used in the off-hand as a parrying weapon. The main hand usually wielded a sword as an offensive weapon.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Cat heaved a sigh.  "I'll fill you in on Fiona at a later time.  You'll want to be well-fed and well-rested before that tale can be told," she said.  Duncan might be able to pick up the exhaustion from the insomnia caused by her worry in her voice, though she was trying very hard not to show it.  If he looked at Jack, he would receive a nod.  

 

Duncan's military record caused a bit of a wince from Jack.  "Regime de Dumbarton as well, but a mere foot soldier and often sent out into the countryside, incognito.  Mon Français ressemble à un paysan indigène, alors j’ai été chargé d’écouter dans des endroits où nous n’étions pas censés aller.  Unfortunately, a mistake happened," he waved at his eye patch, "And I was sent to the London Veteran's Hospital.  If Lady Aileen collects animals, Lady Alyth collects misfit veterans."

 

"I don't collect people.  If can just look past an injury to see that you're still perfectly capable of doing a job," she replied, the tone marking it as an old subject.  Then Cat muttered, "Collect people.  Makes me sound like I hang them up on display."

 

"I didn't see his hat, as I was too busy falling on my face," she replied.  Jack held his hands a cubit apart to show the size of the hat he had seen.  "The man himself, who has a daughter my same age, was around the same height as His Majesty.  He's going to send me a recipe for a Russian dessert."

 

"Alright, alright.  I understand," she replied.  "Don't encourage Jack, Duncan.  There's a reason I'm trying to keep him away from Douglas.  He will be delighted to see you, by the way, but only when your ready.  He'll have manly tales not suited for female ears about his new Barony and his position as Lord Lieutenant of Aberdeen."  Pride showed in her voice as she spoke of her half-brother.  

 

The additional water was added, with Jack motioning to one of the other footmen to take the cooler buckets and get more hot water.  As Duncan began to sing, Cat listened.  It wasn't a happy song, but she doubted her friend had a happy song in him at this time.  But she'd help him, as would Douglas, as would quite a few others at court that held Duncan in such high regard.  

[Duncan Melville]

“I sang that song around a campfire, in the company of Gypsies. They had broken into a London house back when the mob was burning houses. The merely needed food, drink, and warmth. I did not turn them in. In fact, I joined them for a while…” a smile at the memory. “Their leader, Dame Martha, gave me a filed half penny for other Romany to recognize. I offered them shelter in Melville Castle if and when they needed it, and up to two head of cattle for the taking. They were far more human than many of the creatures of court. And when a constable knocked on the door and asked about the noice, I posed as the owner of the house and gave the name of Lauderdale's nephew”. Duncan tried not mention Lauderdale so as not to cause Cat any discomfort, but the story was goo. As for the Duke, the pox on him!

Duncan caught the worry in Cat’s voice, but not the look she gave Jack. Thus, he surmised she wanted to talk about the matter when out of earshot of others.

Then Jack’s story. “So, Master Jack, we bled in the same battlefields, it seems. If Lady Alyth ever tires of you, look me over. I also collect military-related people”, the Viscount said with a wink. His sombre mood seemed to be lifting a bit. “And Cat, accept the truth, you do collect misfits. I am here, after all, am I not?” It was a half-assed attempt at humour.

“A hat a cubit tall? Hmm… that makes him a prince of sorts. The Danes and the Dutch have had dealings with Moscow. I have heard from them that their nobility is limited to certain families, but rank is earned in service. An interesting concept”. Duncan’s education included many a tale shared by officers around campfires, war maps, and the like. “If he has a daughter, better warn Douglas. They take a very grim outlook at certain forms of behaviour. I have heard it said that a Russian nobleman sought out a German who had been seeing the Russian’s daughter behind his back and, without warning, drew his sword and killed the man. The law was on his side too, it seems”.

“A baron and the Lord Lieutenant of Aberdeen?” An eyebrow was raised in appreciation. “Someone must like him. I am glad, lass. He deserves more than that too!” Duncan was very fond of the Highlander. Where most of court saw a bastard, Duncan saw promise. Enough promise that Douglas had been considered as a possible match for his sister. “Has he gotten married or at least engaged yet? If not, perhaps he needs a little sisterly, and brotherly, help”.

Good humour was returning. The tone of his voice was changing. There was a reason Ophelia had asked for Cat’s help, and Cat would be able to see it.

“Perhaps a little more hot water?”

[Catriona MacGregor]

Even with the mention of Lauderdale (who seemed to be following her in her conversations today), Cat enjoyed the story.  "Brilliant," she said at the end.  "My mother often threatened to sell me to the Gypsies, but decided I was more useful to keep around."  No affection tinged her voice in speaking of her mother.  She didn't hate her like she did her Father, may he be buried under a mountain of biting insects for all of eternity.

 

Jack gave Duncan a smile.  "Stop trying to hire my guards away, Duncan Melville.  I got to them first, fair and square," she teased, relieved to be hearing a bit of life slipping back into her friend's voice. 

 

"I'll keep that in mind, milord.  It may happen before either of us knows it."  Jack was rather comfortable in his job security as he had figured out that it took an extreme act of betrayal to move the lady to let anyone go.  He chuckled when his lordship attempted some humor towards himself.  

 

As Duncan spoke of what he knew about Russians, she mentally marked down the bit about daughters.  Definitely different from anything she experienced as a child, but her parents were not good examples to compare people too.  Just about anyone else won in that comparison.  "The Ambassador had worked with three Scotsmen, so it was strange to hear the mixing of the accents.  When he asked me if I knew any Scots in the military, I threw Douglas to the wolves."  And didn't have a hint of contrition in her voice as she spoke.  In fact, she laughed.  

 

"No, but he's on the hunt.  Right now he's got his eye on the Osbourne girl.  I'm trying to steer him away, but he's stubborn.  I don't know where he gets it."  Yes, no one else in this particular family was stubborn.  No indeed.  "He needs all the help he can get.  He introduced Fiona and I to Lady Cordelia Lucas, who claims to be a matchmaker.  While I have softened to the idea of remarrying, I'm not putting myself in a matchmaker's hands.  I suggested she should work on Douglas and Fiona."  She stopped before she added Especially Fiona.

 

The newly returned guard with the fresh hot water bucket handed it over to Jack, who supplied the additional water to the bath.

 

"I keep picturing Douglas going to every male acquaintance he knows and saying, 'Hey, do you want one of my sisters?  She's pretty.'"

[Duncan Melville]

“Lass, the day I try to hire away your guards, they would stab me themselves. Working for you is a good life!” It was true. Cat was stern, but she was also fair, even generous. Duncan would not be surprised if they got Scottish pastries as part of their perks... almost every day.

“If the Ambassador is asking for Scotch military men, he most probably already cleared it with the Northern Secretary”. The Lowlander had met Sunderland at a party in the Spanish Embassy. “But I wonder what it is that Russia wants from Scotland. Whiskey, perhaps?” It was an interesting titbit of information.

“The Osborne girl… hmm… we should talk about her when we talk about Fiona”. The viscount would have spoken freely if he had been alone with Cat, but he would not with anyone else present. “A matchmaker? For you? You don’t need one! You have His Grace Charles to fill that post!”. Duncan used the Scottish form of addressing their king, not the English one. “When the time comes, he will do right for you, I am certain”.

Although the Lowlander noticed the stress on Fiona’s name, he seemed not to notice. There will be time for that.

Cat’s words about Douglas and his sisters made him smile. “I bet you a pound against a penny that he will do that to me…” the Lowlander chuckled. “All of you are incredibly beautiful. You do not need to be… offered… to the public”. He tried to be as polite as he could.

It was then that a servant entered with a stack of clothes, all black, grey, or white, with a meerschaum pipe and a leather pouch on top. The pouch smelled of cherries.

“Ah! Just in time. I was starting to become a triton”.

Just not being by himself and being able to talk to others had made a noticeable transformation. Although his face was still pale and his eyes were still sad, his voice had a bit of strength to it, something that was lacking when Duncan had entered the house.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Cat chuckled at Duncan declaring working for her was the good life for the guards.  Not those who got stuck with Fiona duty.  "I couldn't tell you why.  Whiskey is just as good a guess as finding 11 others Scots and a bagpiper to start a revolution.  He did happen to mention that particular piece of Scottish truth.  I'm sure when the two of them get together, I might glean some good information.  If you would like to join us, the invitation will be open for you."  Then again, Duncan had an open invitation into her home at any time.  He was family.

 

"Do not put an idea of me marrying into the King's head," she groaned.  "I have no doubt he's going to be busy this season, with his pride in having a legitimate heir.  If he wants to marry any of us off, I'd prefer it be Fiona, who yes, we will talk about later," she promised.

 

"I know that, you know that, even Douglas knows that, but I don't think he can help himself sometimes.  We're back to being children and him trying to give me away to a traveling salesman."  There was laughter in her voice now, but at the time, had she a sharp object, Douglas might have only one eye.  

 

When the servant with Duncan's clothes arrived, Cat stood.  "That is my cue to let you get dressed in peace.  Would you prefer a nap or some more food.  Douglas brought some kippers with him the other night and, as I said, more scones were made.  Lord Mountjoy sent over a rabbit and some mushrooms that has been turned into a delicious soup as well..."  Now she was getting hungry...except for the kippers.  

[Duncan Melville]

“If the Ambassador mentioned Scots and bagpipes it has to be military then”. What it was exactly, Duncan did not know. “As for the invitation, I better decline. Let Douglas have his time with the Ambassador. I would not want to interfere”. They both knew that, due to their parentage, Duncan was bound to have an easier time at court. Douglas was an excellent soldier and a brave and honourable man. His father was the one that made things into a mess. So Duncan would give Douglas his space.

“Ah, Prince Charles Henry. He is bound to make life easier for Catholic and non-Conformist alike, including His Grace York. I am happy to have a happy king”. It was true. A Protestant heir made everyone’s life easier, with the possible exception of the Country Party, who had used Catholics, especially Jesuits, as a rallying cry.

Fiona again. What has the girl done this time?

Then a question. Nap or food? A nap would do him good, but food would allow them to chat about topics they had not gotten to yet. “Rabbit soup sounds delicious, actually. Does it have any carrots in it? But the scones baked in your kitchens are a weakness of mine, so please add some too. And the kippers. I promise to get some more for Douglas”. I will have a carriage go to Chelsea and get some foodstuffs from Melville House and have them delivered here. It is the least I can do. I am raiding their pantry!

When Cat and the servants left, as Duncan decided to dress himself, a lonely tear came down his left cheek. My Book Mouse, I miss you so! You knew me so well my love. You sent me to the one place that would lift my spirits, the MacBain household. How thankful I am for your thoughtfulness!

About fifteen minutes later, a clean and black-clad Duncan went down the stairs. If any one that did not know him had seen him enter the house and then come down, they would have sworn it was two different persons.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Cat was well aware of how hard Douglas had it at court, but his stubborn pride had served him well.  "Well, you know, as family, whenever you want, you are always welcome."  And Duncan would likely know she meant it.  Lord Melville would never be turned away.

 

"Indeed.  I may dislike the woman, but God bless the Queen."  Little Charles Henry would know his father's love and unless he turned out more like his eldest bastard brother than his father, the entire country would show their love as well. 

 

"Yes, there are carrots in the stew.  Just so you know, no onions are ever used at my table.  They and I do not get along.  But I promise you'll enjoy your meal and not miss them.  As for replacing Douglas' kippers, you really don't have to.  I mean, REALLY don't have to.  I'm sure he'd be happy to know he'd help fill your belly."  Seriously, Cat couldn't decide if Douglas brought them because he really enjoyed them or just to mess with her.  She and her brother had a relationship that worked for them.  

 

She left Duncan to get dressed while she got the dining table set just like it was every night when she had dinner with her siblings when there was no night events at court.  Everything was set on the table in matching bowls, tureens and platters.  A tea set, a bottle of whiskey and a large pile of scones sat on the table's end.  Duncan would find a feast laid out.  Though there were servants in the hall to direct him, he really could just follow his nose.