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  “Eternal life?”

  “Yes, but the Bible also talks about an abundant life that we can have right here on earth. Can you think what a person must do to receive eternal life and an abundant life as well?”

  Ian paused to give himself time to think. “The Book of John, chapter three and verse three, stated that we must be born again. Is that what you are talking about?”

  “I am indeed talking about that scripture, son. However, we must first seek the Lord with all our hearts, souls, and all that is within us, and we must truly repent of all our sins. It is not enough to merely tell the Lord we are sorry. We must earnestly turn away from the sin and strive to never become ensnared by it again.”

  Ian’s face or mannerisms must have told the vicar that he was tired, slightly confused, and in need of time to digest all that he’d heard. The vicar closed his Bible and placed it on the small table by his chair—exactly as Pastor Petit always did at the end of his sermons.

  “This part of our lesson is finished for today,” Pastor Steen said. “Next time, we will discuss the signs and wonders mentioned in the Book of Mark. The clergy I met who studied under Jonathan Edwards had a great deal to say about that. And remember, the Bible is never wrong. My personal thoughts and opinions could always be wrong.

  “Now, I will ring for my cook and ask her to bring us some tea. Would a cup of tea suit you at this time, Mr. Colquhoun?”

  “Yes, I would like a cup of tea and the chance to thank Cook for an excellent noon meal.”

  Two days later, Ian went out behind the vicar’s cottage to feed Buster. He hadn’t seen Peter since that day at the inn nor had he seen Shannon.

  The vicar had kept him busy learning the ways and rituals of the English church. But he’d also taught him more about the Bible. One of the lessons Ian learned was the importance of being positive every time he spoke—even in jest. If he prayed for a need, he must expect his prayer to be answered, and he must find comfort in that—perhaps thanking the Lord for answering his prayers before the answer came.

  “God hates idolatry,” the vicar had said, “and according to the Bible, He also dislikes complainers. As believers, we must stop complaining. Thank God for all our blessings.”

  The minister ended that lesson by promising that as soon as Ian was able to perform his duties at the church correctly, they would discuss topics Ian would find even more interesting. However, on that day the vicar planned to visit in the homes of his flock. Ian had the entire day off.

  He’d dug around the spot where the dog found the strange bone several times, hoping to find another one. So far, he was unsuccessful. Maybe he should try again.

  Ian opened the pen wide. Buster wagged his tail.

  “Come on, boy. It is time for our walk.”

  This time, Ian planned to stroll all the way to Gatehaven in hopes of seeing Shannon. Ian was eager to see her again, and she’d sent a note via the vicar.

  Dear Ian,

  I will meet you in the garden behind the kitchen this afternoon at three, if I can get away.

  Regards,

  Rachel Shannon Aimee

  Ian and the dog had almost reached Gatehaven when he saw a carriage drive up. Ian grabbed Buster by the nape of the neck and pulled him in the shadow of a large tree. He watched as the earl and the two women got out and went inside.

  So, the earl is back. Ian wondered if Shannon would be told that the earl had returned.

  He heard a rustling in the bushes nearby. He froze. Peter stepped out from behind a tree.

  “Good day, my friend.” Peter smiled. “It is good to see you.”

  “Peter. It is time you showed your face to me again. How is your job working out?”

  “The innkeeper sold the inn. Hitty will likely be fired.”

  “Fired? Why?”

  “Hitty told me in confidence that she knows too much.” Peter shook his head. “Strange. Millie, the young girl who nursed me back to health after my fall from the horse, told me the same thing. After Hitty gets off work tonight, I will see if I can convince her to tell me more.”

  “I would like to speak to both those young women,” Ian said. “I know where Millie and her uncle, Devlin McGregor, live.” Ian glanced down at the dog. “I think I mentioned that Buster and I came upon it one day when we went for a walk. However, it is unlikely that McGregor would allow a Colquhoun like me to speak with his niece.”

  Peter shook his head. “You Scots and your clans have always confused me.”

  Buster put his front feet on Ian’s thigh and licked his hand. Peter leaned down, patting Buster on the head. The dog wagged his tail.

  “Your dog?” Peter asked.

  “His name is Buster, and he belongs to the vicar.”

  “Buster seems to like you,” Peter said. “But that is nothing new. You always had a string of dogs at your heels back home.” He paused and looked away.

  “I have been thinking a lot about my sister, Ian. If Shannon still refuses to see me, I am going to storm in that mansion and demand that they make her see me. I have wasted enough time as it is.”

  “Demand?” Ian shook his head. “You know Shannon. If you demand that she do something, she will likely do just the opposite.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SHANNON IS MY sister,” Peter said, “my flesh and blood. I have no choice but to go after her.”

  “We should pray. God will find a solution to our problem. We need only to wait on Him.”

  “That is good enough for you to say. You plan to become a man of the cloth, but what about me? I pray all right, but I am a farmer’s son. I hope to have a farm of my own someday.”

  “You are a follower of the Lord, are you not?”

  “Of course. You know I am.”

  “Then you are blessed. For us, prayer is the answer. And when I pray, like when I pray for rain, I thank God when the answer comes. The Lord will let us know when it is time to rescue Shannon, and He is never late.”

  “You seem different, Ian, since the vicar arrived and now you’re serving as his assistant.”

  “How am I different?”

  “More churched—as my father would say.”

  “I am no different than the Ian Colquhoun you have always known. I just know more about the Bible and the English church than I did before I arrived.”

  Peter nodded. But Ian didn’t think he seemed convinced.

  “Now,” Ian said, “tell me what happened at the inn. What did Hitty tell you about the new owner?”

  “Not much.” Peter straightened and shrugged. “One of The Boar and Tongue’s new owners is a former monk from France named Brother Julian. But I have not heard the name of his partner. Nobody but the monk knows, I suppose. Where is Shannon now?”

  Ian swallowed. Pastor Petit’s letter had stated that one of the strangers in the village of Cert the night Magdalena Petit was murdered wore the clothes of a monk. Could there be a connection? So many peculiar events had taken place since he arrived in England, Ian wouldn’t be surprised at anything he heard or saw.

  “Well, Ian. Where is my sister?”

  “At the mansion. I was on my way there to meet her in the garden.”

  “Bring her here, Ian. I have much to tell.”

  “Do you think she will be willing to come?”

  “You have to try.”

  “Very well, I will see what she says. And promise to stay right here. I will return shortly.”

  Ian started to walk off. Buster wagged his tail and fell in right behind him.

  He stopped and gazed down at the dog. “You stay here, boy, with Peter.”

  The dog sat down on his haunches and his ears perked up.

  “Stay.”

  The dog didn’t move.

  “Smart dog.” Peter bent down and patted Buster on the head. “The vicar must be proud. Tell him that I like his dog the next time you see him.”

  “I will try to remember.”

  Shannon was seated on a stone bench under a tree in the
garden behind the house. Ian smiled and sat down beside her. Knowing how she felt about her brother, he needed to prepare Shannon for what was to come before taking her to meet Peter.

  “How is your ankle?”

  “The pain disappeared. I can walk normally now. And I have good news.”

  “I have news as well. You tell yours first.”

  “The earl and his family have returned from London, and he had a note sent up to my room. Oh, Ian, you will never guess what has happened.” She leaned against the back of the bench, bubbling with excitement. “I have been invited to dinner in the main dining room tonight. This must mean that the earl plans to announce our engagement.” She smiled. “Be happy for me.”

  “I am happy if you are.”

  “Oh, I am.” Shannon studied Ian for a moment. “I know you have never approved of the earl. That is because you do not really know him yet. Now that will all change. I am sure that you and the earl will become the best of friends.”

  Ian didn’t agree with her assessment of the situation. However, he decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

  “Now for my news,” he finally said. “Peter is staying at an inn in Fairs called The Boar and Tongue and working there as well, and he is eager to see you. He is waiting for us in the woods this minute.”

  Shannon’s dreamy expression vanished. “Are you saying that my brother is here—in England?”

  “Aye.”

  “Why would he come here?” Her facial muscles tensed. “Is something wrong at home?”

  He shook his head. “As far as Peter knows, all is well with your family in Scotland. He came to—to—”

  “To spy on me. Is that not right?”

  “He did not come to spy,” Ian insisted. “Not at all. He came here in case you needed him. Peter is your brother, after all, and he cares about you.”

  “Peter would never come to England merely because he was concerned for my welfare, Ian, and you know it. He thinks I am a child—Papa’s little girl. Mama must have sent him.”

  “Come to the woods with me and let Peter tell you why he came in his own words.”

  Shannon stood. “I have no wish to talk to Peter now or ever. I must go inside and prepare for the dinner party tonight.”

  “Please, lass, go with me to meet your brother even if you can only stay a short while.”

  She stomped her foot. “No! Tell Peter to go back to Scotland. I have nothing to say to him.”

  Shannon walked into the kitchen through the back door, and she didn’t look back.

  Leon had also received a message from the earl. Come to Gatehaven tonight for the dinner I promised you before I left for London. You will be seated next to Miss Shannon Aimee.

  His plans appeared to be working. Tonight Miss Aimee—soon her beautiful mother.

  Shannon pulled the best dress she owned from the box she’d brought from home. She wanted to pinch Ian on the ear for standing up for her brother. At the same time, she hoped that Ian would be attending the dinner too. However, she had no way of knowing for sure.

  She held the dress up to the light before putting it on. It was the same gold-colored gown she’d worn to the ball held in Luss, and the earl had seen it twice. The gown would have to do. She had no other that would be suitable for such an occasion.

  The dress had a scooped neckline—though not low-cut like some of the dresses she’d seen at balls in Scotland. The silk bodice fit smoothly against her slender waist, and the yards and yards of soft material in the gathered skirt swished and rippled as she moved.

  She couldn’t afford a wig of any kind, but she planned to have Miss Foster’s maid pay special attention to her hair. Perhaps she would braid it and wind it around her head like a sort of crown. Since she didn’t own a tiara, spring flowers in gold and yellow would have to do. She wanted to look perfect that evening and nothing like the servant girl the earl’s mother first thought her to be.

  Shannon’s auburn hair hung well below her waist when it wasn’t pinned up or braided. In Scotland, she’d often fashioned it into one long braid and tossed the braid across one shoulder in order to get the effect she wanted.

  The earl’s mother and grandmother could be wearing white wigs and powdering their faces before dinner that night. But the earl had complimented her long hair and fair complexion. If he found her desirable as she normally looked, why should she cover her best features with powder and wigs? However, she would pinch her cheeks before going below stairs to make her face look as fresh and appealing as possible.

  At nine o’clock that evening, Shannon stood in the doorway of the large dining room.

  The butler announced her. “Miss Rachel Shannon Aimee.”

  Everyone stood at the table behind their chairs as if waiting for her or someone to arrive. Was she late? Apparently that was the case.

  Lady Catherine and her mother, Lady Victoria, and Miss Foster wore powdered wigs. Two other women that she’d never met wore wigs as well, and all the men wore white wigs. Shannon’s gold dress clung to her sides while the other women wore panniers under their skirts—to make them look as if they had large hips, she assumed.

  Everybody is looking at me. Moisture gathered at the edges of her eyes. And nobody seems pleased that I am here—including the earl. Shannon sniffed. Where is Ian?

  She looked around but didn’t see him. Maybe he wasn’t invited.

  Ian didn’t fit in, and she didn’t either. She probably looked as if she still belonged in the stable or the maid’s quarters. Nevertheless, she would not cry so others would notice—no matter what.

  The earl moved around from his place at the head of the table and escorted her to one of two vacant chairs near the middle of the table.

  So, she thought, someone else is late. Maybe it is Ian.

  The earl pulled out a chair in the design of the French upper class and motioned for Shannon to sit down.

  Shannon lifted her head and smiled.

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You look lovely tonight.”

  She nodded politely to the earl and looked down at her plate as Miss Foster had taught her to do in these situations. As she settled onto a heavy side chair with its carved back and brocaded cushion, she wondered: Was a dragon carved on the back of her chair like the one on her bed’s headboard? She decided not to look. That way, she could at least hope it wasn’t there.

  “One of the symbols for Satan mentioned in the Bible is the dragon,” her father had said.

  But the earl wasn’t reared by a man who read and studied the Bible daily as her father did. He probably didn’t know. Maybe she’d become too obsessed with the meaning of words and with symbols. Perhaps she should think about something else.

  Shannon gazed at the elderly woman seated beside her. She wore a black silk dress, and diamonds glittered from her tiara and from the necklace she was wearing. The woman had looked at Shannon for only a moment. Then she turned her back on Shannon in an obvious snub and conversed with the elderly man seated beside her. Shannon wondered why she agreed to come at all.

  All at once she sensed that someone had taken the vacant chair beside her. Shannon prayed it was Ian. She turned, and her smile fell away. Etienne Gabeau stared at her.

  “Miss Aimee,” he said with a heavy French accent. “It is good to see you again. You look lovely tonight.”

  You look lovely tonight? Shannon blinked. That was what the earl just said. And why hadn’t she heard the Frenchman when he sat down? He must be as quiet as a kitchen cat about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. She had a strange feeling that for tonight, she was the mouse.

  He glanced at her torso and smiled in a way she didn’t like.

  She blushed and reached for her glass. She took a sip of water and tried to pretend it never happened.

  Impeccably dressed in a dark suit and a uniquely knotted dark tie, Monsieur Gabeau’s air of sophistication and French accent would probably impress any woman despite the obvious limp, but not Shannon. When they first met, he re
minded her of her French father, but no more. His disguises were internal and easy to identify now.

  She wanted to believe that she’d imagined his ungentlemanly ways and that he was all he claimed to be. Deep down she knew the man was a snake.

  Ian might be wrong about the earl. But he was right about the Monsieur.

  A waiter in black clothing appeared at her left and offered her a serving of pear slices and bits of apple cut in squares. She scooped up a small serving with a silver spoon and laid it on her plate.

  “I like your friend, Mr. Ian Colquhoun.” The Frenchman smiled and took a bite of apple. “I understand you both enjoyed the use of my library.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Shannon put down her fork. Why had Ian stayed with this horrible man—why had she?

  Still, Monsieur Gabeau was generous enough to take Ian in until the vicar returned. She could at least show him proper respect for that kindness by keeping up her end of the conversation until the dinner ended.

  She forced another smile.

  “It was kind of you to invite Mr. Colquhoun to stay in your home until the vicar returned. I understand he is back at his cottage, and Mr.Colquhoun is living with him now.”

  “Unfortunately. I had hoped Mr. Colquhoun would stay on after the vicar returned. But that was not to be. I would have liked for you to stay on at my estate as well, Miss Aimee.”

  “What?” She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

  Gabeau laughed softly. “I was joking, of course. I am glad the vicar returned and that you are living at Gatehaven again. I only meant that I enjoyed Mr. Colquhoun’s company while he was living with me, and I enjoyed your visit as well. It is lonely living alone in such a large house. It was nice that I had someone to talk to—while it lasted. Have you known him long?”