A Secret Scottish Christmas (Agents of the Crown Book 4)

by Regan Walker

  “Yes, please do,” said The Grand Countess. Muriel smiled, reminding Robbie that while she might have the demeanor of a queen, she had the heart of a grandmother. “A charming rogue is just what we need to entertain us, isn’t it, Kit?”

  Kit moved over to allow Robbie room to take the space between them. “Indeed. Robbie will most definitely liven us up.”

  He thanked Tara for her assistance. She waved goodbye and skated off with elegant grace to where Nick waited for her.

  Robbie unbuckled his skates from his boots. “How did you know it was me?”

  “More like I knew it had to be you,” said Muriel in her dignified voice. “I believe it is Nash skating with Aileen, is it not?”

  “It is.” Robbie let out a sigh as he watched his twin sharing laughter with the girl. The two appeared to be enjoying themselves. “He is much better on the ice than I am.”

  “And you are better at flirtation and charm,” said Muriel. “I suspect the mothers in the ton hide their daughters when you enter the ballroom.”

  “Why, Muriel,” said Kit, pausing in her sketching, “how ever did you guess?”

  “I recognize a rogue because I married one.” The countess patted Robbie’s knee. “Reformed, they make wonderful husbands.”

  “I do hope you are right, Countess,” said Robbie, “as I have recently thought of taking a wife.”

  “Oh how the mighty fall!” exclaimed Kit. “Do your brothers know?”

  Thinking the idea was now firm in his mind, Robbie replied, “I have only recently decided.”

  “I see you watching William’s sister,” observed Muriel. “Is she in your sights?”

  “If she were to show an interest, she certainly would be. However, at least for the moment, Nash seems to be occupying the field.”

  Robbie watched the nine skaters gliding around the ice: Nick and Tara, now that she was restored to her husband, Mary and Hugh, as athletic on the ice as on horseback, William and Emily, absorbed in each other, and Nash and Ailie. All skated as couples. Martin, skating alone, was taking on some fancy jumps.

  “Martin has an aptitude for the ice,” he said. “I must have forgotten. Do you also like to skate, Kit?”

  “Not so much as Martin.” Her pencil moved in quick jerks over the sketchbook.

  Robbie leaned over to look at her drawing. In the middle of the large pad, Kit had sketched the pond and the skaters, not so you could discern their features, but the figures were clearly drawn so that he could make out who they were. At the four corners of the drawing, she had added smaller individual pictures: the countess on the bench, Martin in a leap, the two setters running and Robbie taking a fall.

  “Did you have to include my disastrous fall from grace?”

  Kit chuckled. “I thought to round out our afternoon of skating. Things do not always go well and you so rarely fall, Robbie. Besides, I would have my sketches reflect real life.”

  “That is to your credit, my dear,” said the countess.

  William skated over to them, Emily in tow. “Are you finished?” he asked. “I think the group is ready for some hot wassail.”

  “Wassail sounds delightful,” said Kit. “I can add what details remain when I am back in my chamber.”

  “Bless you, dear man,” said Muriel. “A hot cup of wassail is just the ticket.”

  Robbie smiled to himself. Or, perhaps a warm brandy and a few moments with the Mistress of the Setters. Surely, “circumspect” did not mean he could not enjoy her company.

  “Allow me,” offered Nash, taking two cups of wassail from the footman’s tray and passing one to Ailie. “This will warm you up.” They had returned with the others from the pond just as the sun had dropped behind the hills. Still feeling the chill off the ice, they had gathered in the parlor, clustered around the fire to get warm.

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” Ailie inquired, taking a sip of the hot spiced cider that smelled of cinnamon and oranges.

  Unable to hide the joy of being with her, he grinned. “Tremendously, but for the most part, that was due to the company.” They had talked of their childhoods and laughed over their foibles. She had not mentioned George Kinloch so Nash hoped she did not hold against him his views. They had enjoyed themselves so much they were the last to leave the ice.

  Ailie’s sherry-colored eyes glistened as she looked at him over the rim of her cup. “You are a very good skater, you know.”

  “One of my few talents.”

  “I suspect you have many, Nash Powell. Were you athletic as a child? I neglected to ask.”

  “Robbie and I played cricket at Eton but, after that, Father insisted we learn the family business and sail with him. Not that we hadn’t been on ships as small boys but, from that time on, the lessons were of a more serious nature. My athletics were mostly climbing the rigging and swabbing decks. Eventually, as we gained experience and Father trusted us, we learned to sail as shipmasters.”

  “Were you happy for the change?”

  “Oh yes. Being with our father is always an amazing adventure. Captain Simon Powell,” he said, “the very name is like magic to the men of Powell and Sons. You would have to see him on the deck of his ship firing orders in a storm to understand. Only Nick has achieved our father’s skill as a shipmaster.”

  “Ships have been in my blood since I was a wee lass, though I have not sailed far.”

  “With my father, I have sailed to the West Indies, America, France and much farther.” Nash remembered how William had described his sister. Regarding her with admiration, he said, “Your brother described for Robbie and me your determination to become a designer of ships.”

  A pretty blush pinked her cheeks. “Aye, I made a right keen nuisance of myself in Father’s shops in Aberdeen.”

  “I admire you, Ailie. One day you will be known for the Ossian’s unique design, I’ve no doubt.” What he didn’t say was that he planned to be with her when that day arrived.

  Behind him, Emily drew everyone’s attention. “Our cook tells me dinner will be in a half-hour’s time, so plan accordingly!”

  The footman collected their cups and Nash escorted Ailie to the top of the stairs where he told her he would see her at dinner. She turned one way and he the other.

  Dinner was a jolly affair as they recounted the day’s adventures on the frozen pond. The meal, after the usual soup and fish, consisted of a braised leg of mutton. When he inquired of Ailie about the bacon he would have expected to taste along with the sheep’s meat, she told him, “Martha would never use bacon.”

  “One can always hope,” he said. With a deep sigh, Nash resigned himself to living without bacon, perhaps for the rest of his life, unless he could persuade Ailie to come to London. Could he ever live in Scotland? An intriguing thought.

  For dessert they had fresh pineapple from Emily’s orangery, which Nash considered a great treat. He was just in the middle of taking a bite when William began to speak.

  “Tomorrow, depending on the weather,” he said, “I thought to offer those who are interested a chance to hunt.”

  Nash looked up expectantly “Geese again? I missed my chance the last time.”

  “No. This time, we’ll be going to moors to hunt the red deer hinds. The herds are culled each year at this time to keep them and the land healthy.”

  Kit’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean by culled?”

  “Without natural predators, the herds grow too large for the vegetation they have to survive upon,” replied William. “The last wild wolf was killed three-quarters of a century ago. We will be looking for the stragglers, the weaker ones. Still, with the weather as it is, the short hours of daylight and the canny deer, we’ll have a challenge on our hands.”

  “If we’re successful, we can look forward to a fine saddle of venison. I must warn you, it means another departure before daybreak and we’ll be gone until late afternoon.”

  Despite William’s admonitions, Nick shared a glance with his wife, then eagerly spoke up. “We’re
for the hunt.”

  Kit gave Nick’s wife a look of surprise. “You, Tara?”

  “I used to hunt the white-tailed deer and wild turkeys with my brothers,” she replied. “It would be a grand thing to be able to tell them about deer stalking in Scotland.”

  “If you are going,” said Ailie, “so will I, but just be aware deer stalking involves much wandering and waiting. ’Tis not so exciting as shooting at hundreds of geese taking flight.”

  With that, Nash chimed in, “’Twill give me time to ponder. Count me in.” There was no possibility Ailie was setting off for the moors without him. A whole day with her stalking the deer even if he never got a shot would be something to remember.

  Kit spoke up. “I’d like to go to sketch the hunt, if it would be permissible.”

  “Aye,” said William, “no one is required to shoot. I’ll have guns and spyglasses for those who do. The ride will be long, ladies, and once on the moors, ’twill be windy and cold. Dress accordingly. I have jackets and hats more fitting to deer stalking should you have none.”

  Nash detected a gleam in Ailie’s eyes, making him wonder just what she would wear.

  When William’s words of caution did not dissuade the women from going, Martin said, “If my wife goes, so do I.”

  Hugh conferred with his wife. “Mary and I have decided to stay here and have a late morning ride.”

  William turned to Robbie. “And you?”

  “I’m not much for hunting.” Nash knew the words to be false, but he was also aware of why Robbie had spoken them. Robbie glanced at the countess. “Perhaps a game of piquet with Muriel might serve.”

  “I should like to see that game,” said Emily.

  “Well,” said Robbie, “if I am late, you two can start without me.”

  “Humph,” mumbled Muriel.

  Nash believed for much of the day, the two ladies would be playing alone. Any card game involving Robbie would not take place till late afternoon.

  After the women left for the parlor and their tea, Nash enjoyed a glass of port with the men. When they rejoined the ladies, Robbie invited Ailie to play a game of chess, which she accepted.

  “Be warned,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes, “I am quite good at the game growing up with Father and Will and long winter nights to perfect my skill.”

  Robbie smirked and set up the board. “We shall see.”

  Nash talked with William about ship designs while shooting glances at his twin, who was enjoying his game with Ailie. Robbie had always been more proficient at chess than he was.

  Even before the first of the chess games had concluded, the couples going on the hunt began drifting toward the parlor door, intent upon seeking their beds for the early morning.

  “I’ll have the servants knock on the doors of any going on the hunt,” said William. “We’ll have a short breakfast and lots of hot coffee before we set out. Dress warmly.”

  As Tara and Kit were leaving, Ailie rose from her game with Robbie and asked to speak with them. What the women conferred about, Nash had no idea, but after their heads nodded in agreement, Ailie went back to her game.

  With no early commitment, Mary and Hugh lingered over their conversation with Muriel and Emily. Nash waited until Ailie and Robbie finished their game and then walked with them and the others up the stairs. At the head of the stairs, he wished Ailie a good night.

  In his chamber, Nash found Robbie pulling out the map he had made upon his first visit to Arbroath town.

  “Did you win the game?”

  Without looking up, Robbie shook his head. “I let the lady win.”

  “That was gracious of you. Was it also ‘circumspect’?”

  “Of course.” Robbie looked up from the map. “Now, as for the morrow, I’m for town and tracking Kinloch to his hiding place. It may not be far from the tavern you visited if they go there every day.”

  “Then ’tis just as well Ailie and I are both going on the hunt.”

  Robbie folded up the map. “It will certainly make it easier for me to slip away for my own hunt.”

  That night, Nash lay in his bed listening to rain pelting the window, wondering with the downpour if there would even be a hunt tomorrow.

  Chapter 14

  23 December

  Ailie peered out her window into the darkness and saw stars glistening from the sky. Sometime during the night, the rain had stopped and, from what she could see, much of the snow had been swept away. Of course, the puddles that remained would soon freeze. On the moors and in the glens where they would stalk the deer, the snow would remain and more of it than on the coast.

  Since the promised knock had sounded on her door, she assumed the hunt was still on and silently thanked the servant who had stirred the fire in her chamber to life. At least she would not have to shiver as she dressed.

  Lighting a candle, she reached for her clothes she had laid out, knowing she would not want to search for them in the dark.

  The evening before, she had spoken with the two other women planning to stalk the deer. Kit, who would go along only to sketch, initially told Ailie she would wear a riding habit. Tara dismissed that as impractical.

  “I wear breeches on Nick’s ship,” she said. “Not knowing what I might encounter here in Scotland, I brought a pair with me.”

  Ailie nodded her approval. “Then I shall wear the same. If we’re to make our way over the moors, stalking deer and splashing through mud with the men, we’d best dress the part. A lady’s gown will only slow us down.” She shot a glance at Kit. “Are you certain you do not want to borrow some breeches and boots from me? Or some trousers? I have both. It might be best to ride astride if you are able.”

  “Oh, very well,” Kit said, her blue eyes flashing. “I cannot argue with reason. Martin will just have to accept me in the scandalous garb. Some trousers will do, Ailie. I can wear them with my half boots. And, yes, I can ride astride, or at least I could as a girl.”

  Concerned they would be warm enough, Ailie offered to provide woolen scarves for them if they had failed to bring some. She had many. As it turned out, Tara had brought one and Kit had not.

  Before getting ready for bed, Ailie had Rhona deliver the promised clothing to Kit’s chamber, including the woolen scarf and a jacket for good measure. Martin’s wife would not regret her decision. The three of them would be united in their determination to be practical. After all, it wasn’t as if they were heading for the streets of Edinburgh where the world would see their shameful attire.

  Clothed in her breeches and heavy woolen jacket, along with a tartan scarf and her boots, Ailie entered the dining room. The footman took no notice of her unusual clothing. Having worked for them for some time, he wouldn’t be surprised.

  Alone, as of yet, she perused the offerings on the sideboard lit with branched candlesticks: rumbled eggs, slices of smoked beef, salted herring and biscuits with butter and currant jelly. Her stomach growled.

  For hot drinks, they could choose from chocolate, tea and coffee. They would need the strong drinks if they were to face the pitch-black morning.

  “No haddies?” asked Nash, coming up behind her where she stood holding her plate.

  “Disappointed?” His warm chest against her back gave rise to an irrational desire to turn into his arms. After his kiss in the library, she could hardly look at him without blushing.

  He chuckled. “Elated, more like.”

  “You jest.” She turned to face him so he could see her smirk.

  “I do.” He reached for a plate and stared at the offerings.

  “’Tis too early to jest, Nash. My eyes are barely open.”

  He came to stand beside her, inclining his head to give her breeches a quick look. “I approve your choice of hunting attire.”

  “Thank you,” she said shortly, adding eggs, herring and a biscuit to her plate. “I cannot imagine stalking deer in a gown.”

  “No, though I imagine some women do.”

  “Not in Scotland in the wi
nter. But then not many are likely to hunt deer either. My attire will not shock Will and Emily. And today, I will not be alone.”

  Before long, the others going on the hunt trailed in and joined them. At first, everyone sat quietly, heads bent to their plates, as if talk was beyond them this early.

  Ailie finished eating and sipped her chocolate. Nash, sitting next to her, was on his second serving of eggs and biscuits.

  Fortified with two cups of coffee, Will looked up from his plate. “I see the ladies have decided to match our clothing, gentlemen. Knowing where we are going, I applaud their choice.”

  Martin gave Kit a brief look before saying, “I was persuaded by my wife’s choice when she told me both Tara and Ailie would be similarly attired.”

  Tara grinned at her husband. “Told you.”

  Nick lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Incorrigible.”

  Amused at their antics, Ailie shot Nash a glance. “Kindred spirits, aye?”

  Nash gave her a wink.

  “Ah,” sighed Will, patting his stomach after his second helping of eggs. “I am finally ready to face the moors.” He rose from his chair. “To the stables, lads and lasses!” He marched from the room, shouting over his shoulder. “Ailie, bring the setters!”

  The front door slammed as the rest of them got to their feet. Ailie glanced toward Kit and Tara. “The adventure begins.”

  Robbie ate breakfast with Muriel, Emily and the Ormonds before setting out for Arbroath. He made a point of tasting the smoked haddies, a sweet smoky flavor, which, once sampled, would long be remembered. Like Nash, he preferred bacon with his eggs.

  He had thought to take a horse to Arbroath but, at breakfast, Hugh and Mary spoke about venturing farther afield in their morning ride, so Robbie thought it best he walk. If he encountered them in the woods, he could always dash behind a tree. Walking might be messy after the rain, but it would obviate the need to see to his horse once he arrived.

  As he set out, a gray sky hovered above the trees. Beneath their branches, the snow lingered in the shadows, stubbornly refusing to give up its ground. He supposed when one lived with snow and ice most winters, one got used to such weather. In London, snow was rare and, for the most part, insignificant, though it could leave a pretty mess when mingled with the soot.