Amanda Scott(11)

But Simon’s experience with her had taught him to keep his thoughts to himself until he could decide if anyone else wanted to hear them. The result was that he had weathered service with the Earl of Fife more successfully than most.

Subsequently, his experience with Fife had curbed his hitherto volatile temper and taught him to bide his time until he knew what the opposition’s most potent arguments were and how fierce a verbal battle might become before joining a discussion. Therefore, he believed he was well equipped to deal with his mother.

His respect for her judgment was great. After his father’s death, he had accepted her advice on many issues. But he was master of Elishaw now.

Realizing she was determined to outwait him, and not wanting to stir coals with her yet, he said, “You would fight to retain your rights here just as Isabel fought for hers, would you not, madam—if that were necessary?”

She turned then and met his gaze, her expression softening. “I’d have no need to fight you, my dear, whilst you remain Lord of Elishaw.” Thoughtfully, she added, “Such knowledge was comforting eight months ago, but I own, it does now afford me concern. We have seen, have we not, how quickly lives may end—first James Douglas, then your father and our poor Tom.”

When she paused, he looked away, unwilling to let her see the pain he felt at the still-strong memory of his younger brother’s death.

Recollection of their father’s demise just days before Tom’s was likewise strong, but Sir Iagan had lived a good life, and a longer one than most men enjoyed in such dangerous times. And Sir Iagan had most likely died in a fall from his horse.

Tom had barely reached his majority before meeting his death in a violent, villainous attack while on a journey to their sister Meg’s home in Rankilburn Glen.

If, as his sister Amalie believed, Sir Iagan’s death had been violent, too, no evidence of that had come to light. Nor did Simon expect to find any. He suspected that the violence of Tom’s death had influenced Amalie’s thinking, and he could not blame her. He felt considerable responsibility himself for Tom’s death.

“I have distressed you, Simon,” his mother said.

“ ’Tis nowt, madam,” he assured her.

“It was not my intention, but you must know that ’tis time you were wed. Recall that James Douglas left Isabel with no child to comfort her, and himself with no suitable heir. You now find yourself in danger of leaving Elishaw similarly unprotected. I do not fear for myself. I think of your sister Rosalie, and so must you.”

“I do not suppose you bring up this subject because you think I ought to wed the lady Sibylla,” he said, trying to sound thoughtful rather than provocative.

She stiffened. “Certainly not. You know that your father and Sir Malcolm Cavers never got on. I mention the need for you to marry only because, despite being master here for eight months, you have not yet begun to seek a wife. Yet you could find yourself beset by raiders or thieves and foully murdered tomorrow, just as Tom was. However, we do need to discuss the lady Sibylla,” she added. “What do you mean to do about her? It is most unsuitable to keep her here.”

“I disagree,” he said coolly. Keeping the lass where she was, was slight punishment for what she had done to him but too tempting an opportunity to abandon yet. “Whilst you are at Elishaw, madam, none will condemn her presence here.”

“If you do not mean to return her to Sweethope Hill, one must suppose that you will inform Sir Malcolm that she is here. I warn you, sir, I will not allow that man to set foot inside this castle. Your father would writhe in his grave.”

Simon met her gaze but remained silent until color tinged her cheeks. Then he said quietly, “If I send for Sir Malcolm, madam, he will come here as our guest.”

Recovering swiftly, she said, “I do not set myself against you, my dearest. You command all here, as you should. But you have heeded my advice now and again, so I thought you understood that certain things just are as they are.”

“I understand that you and my father took a dislike to Sir Malcolm long ago, but I never sought to know the reason. Perhaps now you might tell me.”

“There is no need for that,” she said, her color deepening. “You need not invite him here, after all. Akermoor lies nearer to Sweethope Hill than to Elishaw, so if you want him to fetch her, doubtless you will prefer the convenience of his collecting her there. Recall, too, that you extended an invitation to my cousin Cecil Percy to visit us with his family. So you will not want to be traveling any far—”

“Sakes, madam, you usually conceal your intent better,” Simon said. “Cecil Percy’s man did not say when Cousin Cecil means to visit or that he will bring his family. He said only that he sought to learn if we would receive him.”