The Counterfeit Madam Read Online Free PDF

hempie. I’ll get a word wi you later, John Sempill.’
    ‘Aye, we will, madam,’ he retorted, scowling at her.
    ‘When did you come by Ballencleroch, madam?’ asked Maister Livingstone. Dame Isabella did not look at him.
    ‘Thomas gave it me outright,’ she stated. ‘As a marriage-gift.’
    ‘Well, he shouldny ha done that,’ said Maister Livingstone. He reached into his sleeve to produce a fat wad of parchment, unfolded it, and leaned forward to hand it to Canon Cunningham. ‘I have the title here, handed me by my brother Archie. It never belonged to Thomas.’
    ‘What?’ John Sempill leapt to his feet. This time his back-stool clattered to the floor behind him, but he ignored it, lunging forward to snatch at the document. Canon Cunningham held it out of his reach, and Dame Isabella prodded him again with her stick.
    ‘Sit down and behave, John,’ she ordered him. ‘Eckie, what are ye about? It’s mine, I tell ye, Thomas and me signed the papers. They’re there, David, under the other.’
    ‘Aye. indeed. Here are two sets of titles to the land,’ Canon Cunningham said, looking disapprovingly from one document to the other, ‘with quite different names on them, conveyed in different hands, and at dates four year apart. This is highly irregular.’
    ‘Thomas should never have alienated the land,’ said Maister Livingstone firmly, sitting back. ‘It’s a part of the heritable portion, held from the Earl of Lennox and his forebears these fifty year. It went to my faither and now to Archie. Thomas never had a say in it.’
    ‘You said you’d already—’ Sempill began, glaring at Dame Isabella. Lowrie had quietly assisted Lady Magdalen to set his backstool on its legs; now she thanked him with a smile, put a hand on her husband’s wrist and drew him back to sit again.
    ‘We need to look at this again, that much is clear,’ she said. ‘Canon Cunningham, I’m right sorry that we’ve taken up your time wi such a guddle. We’ll away now and—’
    ‘We’ll do nothing of the sort!’ Dame Isabella’s stick thumped again. ‘I tell ye it’s mine, Eckie, and I’ll hear no different! As for you, you great fool,’ she added, baring her large white teeth at Sempill, ‘we’ll need to sort out which of Maidie’s properties it is you’ve been neglecting.’
    ‘At the very least, Isabella,’ said Canon Cunningham, ‘your possession is questionable and the matter must be replait till it can be studied carefully. No, your good-daughter is right, we can make no decision the day.’
    ‘Can you look into it, sir?’ asked Lady Magdalen.
    ‘There’s no need of looking into it!’ declared the old woman.
    ‘I’d be grateful,’ began Maister Livingstone.
    Canon Cunningham shook his head.
    ‘I haveny the time,’ he said. ‘I’ve a caseload this week would try a team of oxen. This was the only—’ His voice trailed off as he looked at Gil, one eyebrow raised.
    ‘But what about the other matter?’ demanded Sempill.
    ‘I’ll take it on,’ Gil said to his uncle, with resignation. ‘If you think it proper, sir. But it will take me longer than the two days I promised you,’ he added, turning to Dame Isabella. ‘I’ll need to talk to a few folk, and I have work o my own to see to.’
    ‘You’re all in a league against me!’ she declared, thumping the stick again. ‘I’m an old woman, and I—’ She broke off, clutching at her massive chest. One of the waiting-women exclaimed and hurried forward to bend over her anxiously, patting the plump red cheeks, then pulling at her own skirts to reach her purse.
    ‘Oh, madam! Oh, where have I put your drops? Forveleth, do you have them?’ She tugged at the purse-strings, rummaged in the laden depths without result. The other woman dragged her dark gaze from Maistre Pierre and came forward quietly, producing a tiny flask which Annot unstopped and waved under her stricken mistress’s nose. ‘There, now, no need to go upsetting