“Oh, aye, of course. Business first, my dear,” he said, with a gallant bow to me, “and then if ye will, I should be most charmed to hear the tale of your adventures.”
“Ah…I’ll do my best,” I said, wondering just how much he would insist on hearing.
“Splendid, splendid.” He glanced about the hall, bright little eyes taking in Hobart and Jenny, who had hung up her cloak and was smoothing her hair. “Mr. Fraser and Mr. Murray are already in the parlor. Mr. MacKenzie, if you and the ladies would consent to join us, perhaps we can settle your affairs expeditiously, and proceed to more congenial matters. If you will allow me, my dear?” He crooked a bony arm to me invitingly.
* * *
Jamie was still on the sofa where I had left him, and in approximately the same condition—that is, alive. The children were gone, with the exception of one chubby youngster who was curled up on Jamie’s lap, fast asleep. Jamie’s hair now sported several small plaits on either side, with silk ribbons woven gaily through them, which gave him an incongruously festive air.
“You look like the Cowardly Lion of Oz,” I told him in an undertone, sitting down on a hassock behind his sofa. I didn’t think it likely that Hobart MacKenzie intended any outright mischief, but if anything happened, I meant to be in close reach of Jamie.
He looked startled, and put a hand to his head.
“I do?”
“Shh,” I said, “I’ll tell you later.”
The other participants had now arranged themselves around the parlor, Jenny sitting down by Ian on the other love seat, and Hobart and Mr. Gowan taking two velvet chairs.
“We are assembled?” Mr. Gowan inquired, glancing around the room. “All interested parties are present? Excellent. Well, to begin with, I must declare my own interest. I am here in the capacity of solicitor to Mr. Hobart MacKenzie, representing the interests of Mrs. James Fraser”— he saw me start, and added, with precision—“that is, the second Mrs. James Fraser, née Laoghaire MacKenzie. That is understood?”
He glanced inquiringly at Jamie, who nodded.
“It is.”
“Good.” Mr. Gowan picked up a glass from the table next to him and took a tiny sip. “My clients, the MacKenzies, have accepted my proposal to seek a legal solution to the imbroglio which I understand has resulted from the sudden and unexpected—though of course altogether happy and fortuitous—” he added, with a bow to me, “return of the first Mrs. Fraser.”
He shook his head reprovingly at Jamie.
“You, my dear young man, have contrived to entangle yourself in considerable legal difficulties, I am sorry to say.”
Jamie raised one eyebrow and looked at his sister.
“Aye, well, I had help,” he said dryly. “Just what difficulties are we speakin’ of?”
“Well, to begin with,” Ned Gowan said cheerily, his sparkling black eyes sinking into nets of wrinkles as he smiled at me, “the first Mrs. Fraser would be well within her rights to bring a civil suit against ye for adultery, and criminal fornication, forbye. Penalties for which include—”
Jamie glanced back at me, with a quick blue gleam.
“I think I’m no so worrit by that possibility,” he told the lawyer. “What else?”
Ned Gowan nodded obligingly and held up one withered hand, folding down the fingers as he ticked off his points.
“With respect to the second Mrs. Fraser—née Laoghaire MacKenzie—ye could, of course, be charged wi’ bigamous misconduct, intent to defraud, actual fraud committed—whether wi’ intent or no, which is a separate question—felonious misrepresentation”—he happily folded down his fourth finger and drew breath for more—“and…”
Jamie had been listening patiently to this catalogue. Now he interrupted, leaning forward.
“Ned,” he said gently, “what the hell does the bloody woman want?”
The small lawyer blinked behind his spectacles, lowered his hand, and cast up his eyes to the beams overhead.
“Weel, the lady’s chief desire as stated,” he said circumspectly, “is to see ye castrated and disemboweled in the market square at Broch Mordha, and your head mounted on a stake over her gate.”
Jamie’s shoulders vibrated briefly, and he winced as the movement jarred his arm.
“I see,” he said, his mouth twitching.
A smile gathered up the wrinkles by Ned’s ancient mouth.
“I was obliged to inform Mrs.—that is, the lady—” he amended, with a glance at me and a slight cough, “that her remedies under the law were somewhat more limited than would accommodate her desires.”
“Quite,” Jamie said dryly. “But I assume the general idea is that she doesna particularly want me back as a husband?”
“No,” Hobart put in unexpectedly. “Crow’s bait, maybe, but not a husband.”
Ned cast a cold glance at his client.
“Ye willna compromise your case by admitting things in advance of settlement, aye?” he said reprovingly. “Or what are ye payin’ me for?” He turned back to Jamie, professional dignity unimpaired.
“While Miss MacKenzie does not wish to resume a marital position wi’ regard to you—an action which would be impossible in any case,” he added fairly, “unless ye should wish to divorce the present Mrs. Fraser, and remarry—”
“No, I dinna want to do that,” Jamie assured him hurriedly, with another glance at me.
“Well, in such case,” Ned went on, unruffled, “I should advise my clients that it is more desirable where possible to avoid the cost—and the publicity—” he added, cocking an invisible eyebrow in admonition to Hobart, who nodded hastily, “of a suit at law, with a public trial and its consequent exposure of facts. That being the case—”
“How much?” Jamie interrupted.
“Mr. Fraser!” Ned Gowan looked shocked. “I havena mentioned anything in the nature of a pecuniary settlement as yet—”
“Only because ye’re too busy enjoying yourself, ye wicked auld rascal,” Jamie said. He was irritated—a red patch burned over each cheekbone—but amused, too. “Get to it, aye?”
Ned Gowan inclined his head ceremoniously.
“Weel, ye must understand,” he began, “that a successful suit brought under the charges as described might result in Miss MacKenzie and her brother mulcting ye in substantial damages—verra substantial indeed,” he added, with a faint lawyerly gloating at the prospect.
“After all, Miss MacKenzie has not only been subject to public humiliation and ridicule leading to acute distress of mind, but is also threatened with loss of her chief means of support—”
“She isna threatened wi’ any such thing,” Jamie interrupted heatedly. “I told her I should go on supporting her and the two lassies! What does she think I am?”
Ned exchanged a glance with Hobart, who shook his head.
“Ye dinna want to know what she thinks ye are,” Hobart assured Jamie. “I wouldna have thought she kent such words, myself. But ye do mean to pay?”
Jamie nodded impatiently, rubbing his good hand through his hair.