Douglas FitzJames Posted August 7 Share Posted August 7 It had been an odd thought. Douglas had been pondering the issue of Fiona's stalker and the fact that she was most likely the Duchess of Lauderdale. Douglas's initial response to a threat to his family was instinctively to return the threat, a thousand fold, and defend clan and kin. But he also didn't generally condone violence against women. And he'd been pondering Fiona's future path which naturally led him to examining that of the previous precedent, Elizabeth Maitland herself. She had, by all accounts, become John Maitland's mistress after the death of her husband. He'd been surprised to learn that they'd only been married six years, and thus it was perhaps not so odd that she'd given him no children despite giving her first husband several; she had to be nearing 50 if not past it, and was surely past child bearing age. Whereas Fiona was young and obviously fertile. No doubt, if she knew about Fiona then Elizabeth could see the writing on the wall, and likely felt desperate. Despite the anger over her efforts to dispose of her competition, Douglas felt an odd touch of empathy. He recalled a still attractive blonde lady, who watched from her husband's shadow with keen eyes. He wasn't going to give up pushing for Fiona to take her place, but still... Quote To Elizabeth Maitland, Duchess of Lauderdale and Countess Dysart Your Grace, It was a plesure to speak with your Laird husband yesterday, and I was sorry to hear that you have been unwell. Please accept these tokens in the hope that they may make you more comfotable, and we may have the gift of your compny before the end of court. Yours in Service Captain Douglas FitzJames Baron Dundarg The letter was accompanied by a bottle of Aberdeen whiskey, three boxes of fine tea blends that Douglas had raided from Cat's supplies, and a small throw made of fine, soft white seal pup fur, large enough to be a cot or lap blanket. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with any of them. Oh he'd toyed with the idea of poisoning the whiskey, putting something bitter in the tea or pins in the fur, but felt that it would be purile and unecessary. Instead he had taken a single, razor sharp shard of glass, an inch long, and placed it carefully inside a small, velvet lined box such as one might use for a piece of jewellery. This was the last thing that he had included. There was no way that Elizabeth could miss the shard if she opened the box, but also no way that she could accidentally hurt herself on it unless she were really careless. He wanted her to know that he knew, and was choosing not to seek revenge. Not unless she forced his hand. Maybe they could find some other way to resolve all this. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts