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if the hated man had succeeded only too well, apart from the odd spark of defiance.
    He couldn’t help but wonder what he’d find at Rosyth House. Although it hadn’t been sacked because no Jacobite connection could be proven, were the people there as dejected as the ones he’d met so far? He hoped not, for his sake and theirs. It would make his task that much harder.
     

Chapter Four
     
    ‘ So what’s this I hear about you attacking Mr Seton with a broom, sister dear?’
    This question and the accompanying giggle almost made Marsaili miss her step and she had to put out a hand to steady herself against the thick stone wall of the stairwell. She was on her way up to Ailsa’s quarters for an afternoon session of sewing and hadn’t heard anyone come up behind her.
    ‘ Kirsty, you gave me such a fright! And you shouldn’t call me sister, you know.’
    ‘ Of course I should. It’s the truth and everyone knows it.’ Kirsty grinned, unrepentant.
    Marsaili didn’t reply. Kirsty was right in a way, but they were only half-sisters and Marsaili felt she had no claim to kinship really. Kirsty’s father Farquhar Kinross had seduced Janet Buchanan, his wife’s maidservant, and Marsaili was the result. She didn’t find this out until she’d turned fourteen, however, and her mother had died. Although Janet had been forced to stand on the stool of repentance in the kirk for three Sundays in a row, she’d always refused to reveal the name of her child’s father.
    Farquhar was long dead by then as well, but the local minister had taken it upon himself to inform the widow, Ailsa. Apparently he’d sworn that Farquhar admitted fathering the child just before he left Rosyth for the last time to go abroad, and he’d even signed a paper to this effect.
    ‘ He wanted to make sure that if the bairn was a boy, he’d be taken in by the old laird,’ the minister explained. Marsaili had been given to understand her father had been obsessed with siring a son. She thought to herself it was just as well he never returned from his journey to find he had yet another daughter.
    She had an older half-sister too, Flora, who spent most of her time looking after Ailsa, and Marsaili knew there had been a third, younger daughter, Mairie, who’d died.
    Marsaili shook her head at Kirsty. ‘They might know it, but they’re also well aware that I was born out of wedlock. And kin or not, you’re as powerless as I am against Seton, so please don’t add to your mother’s worries by mentioning the incident with the broom to her. If he chooses to complain about it, fine, but I have a feeling he’d rather keep the altercation to himself.’
    Kirsty frowned. ‘Very well, but you must promise to come to me for help if he attempts to go too far. I heard what he tried to do to Liath and he had no right. He may think he’s the one running things around here, but even he would have to obey a direct order from my mother. I’m fairly sure I could persuade her to issue one should the need arise.’
    Marsaili wasn’t convinced, but nodded all the same. As the two of them entered the bedchamber cum sitting room in the north tower, occupied by the Kinross ladies, Marsaili was struck anew by the amazing kindness and forbearance Ailsa had shown. Not only had she accepted her husband’s infidelity with equanimity, but she’d taken the orphaned Marsaili in, fed and clothed her, and made sure she received some education. She would have done more, had Marsaili allowed it, but the latter felt that being treated as a daughter of the house was too much. Although Ailsa meant well, it would have felt like taking charity, which was something Marsaili could never contemplate.
    ‘ I’d rather you give me a position of some sort, if possible, so I can work for my keep,’ she’d told Ailsa, which was how she came to be the housekeeper, responsible for the day to day running of the household. This suited them both, since Ailsa could never be bothered with such