Roger smiled. “Are ye a theologian of sorts yourself, then, sir?”
“Oh,” said the captain, preening slightly. “I wouldn’t put it so high, but I have written the occasional piece—just my own thoughts on the matter, d’ye see …”
“Are any of them published, sir? I should be most interested to read your views.”
“Oh, well … two or three … just small things … of no great merit, I daresay … were published by Bell and Coxham, in Edinburgh. I’m afraid I’ve no copies with me here”—he glanced at a small, rough table in the corner that bore a small stack of paper along with an inkwell, sander, and jar of quills—“but I am at work upon an endeavor of somewhat larger scale …”
“A book, then?”
Roger sounded honestly interested—probably he actually was, Bree thought—but Mrs. Cunningham was plainly growing impatient with this amiability and meant to nip the conversation in the bud before Roger could seduce the captain into blasphemy or worse.
“The fact remains, Captain, that this gentleman’s good-mother is widely kent to be a witch, and likely his wife is one as well. Send them on their way. We’ve nay interest in their pretensions.”
Roger swung round to face her and drew himself up to his full height, which meant his head nearly brushed the rooftree.
“Mrs. Cunningham,” he said, still polite but letting a bit of steel show through. “I beg ye’ll consider that I am a minister of God. My wife’s beliefs—and her parents’—are as virtuous and moral as those of any good Christian, and I’ll swear to as much with my hand on your own Bible, if ye like.” He nodded at the tiny shelf over the desk, where a Bible took pride of place in a row of smaller books.
“Mmphm,” said the captain with a narrow-eyed glance at his mother. “I’m just away to call my two lads down from the field, sir—lieutenants from my last ship, who chose to come with me when I came ashore. I’ll walk you and your lady to the head of the path, if you’ll bear me company that far?”
“Thank you, Captain.” Bree seized the chance of getting a word in sideways and curtsied deeply to the captain and again—with as much face as she could manage—to Mrs. Cunningham. “Do please remember that my mother will come at once, ma’am, if you have any sort of … emergency.”
Mrs. Cunningham seemed to expand in several directions at once.
“Do ye dare threaten me, girl?”
“What? No!”
“D’ye see what ye’ve let in the house, Captain?” Mrs. Cunningham ignored Brianna and glowered at her son. “The lass means to ill-wish us!”
“We have a few more calls to make,” Roger interjected hastily. “Will ye allow me to bless your house with a wee prayer before we leave, sir?”
“Why—” The captain glanced at his mother, then drew himself up, chin set. “Yes, sir. We should be most obliged to you.”
Brianna saw Mrs. Cunningham’s lips shaped to say “Phut!” again, but Roger hastily forestalled her, raising his hands slightly and bowing his head in benediction.
“May God bless the dwelling,
Each stone, and beam, and stave,
All food, and drink, and clothing.
May health of men be always here.”
“Good day to ye, sir, madam,” he added quickly, and, bowing, grabbed Brianna’s hand. She hadn’t time to say anything—just as well, she thought—but smiled and nodded to the basilisk as they backed out of the door.
“So now we know what Blue Light means,” she said, casting a ginger glance behind them as they reached the end of the path. “As Mama says … Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”
“Apt,” Roger said, laughing.
“Was that a Hogmanay prayer?” she asked. “It sounded kind of familiar, but I wasn’t sure …”
“It is—and a house-blessing. Ye’ve heard your da say it a few times, but he does it in the Gaelic. The Cunninghams are educated Lowlanders, from their accent; if I’d tried the Gaelic version, Mrs. C. might well have thought I was trying to put a spell on them.”
“Weren’t you?” She said it lightly, but he turned his head to her, surprised.
“Well … in a way, I suppose so,” he said slowly, but then smiled. “Highland charms and prayers often aren’t distinguishable from each other. But I think if you address God directly, then it’s probably a prayer, rather than witchcraft.”