The Fire in the Flint Read Online Free PDF Page A

handsome woman, he thought, by any standards. She was talking to herself, apparently deep in argument. He wondered who was winning. Shortly after she passed out of sight at the front of the house, there came a knock at the door. Waving away the servant who’d rushed in to answer, James opened it himself, inviting Margaret in. He guessed what she wished to discuss – he’d heard about the old boller’s death – but she surprised him by handing him a letter.
    ‘Father Francis helped me read it,’ she said, explaining the lack of seal. ‘It’s from my brother Fergus. I hoped you might advise me on it. Would you read it?’
    ‘You trust me with such a personal letter?’
    She glanced behind her. ‘Am I not alone? Who else might have placed it in your hand?’
    Sometimes James did not know what to make of Margaret’s apparent trust in him. Had someone treated him as he had treated her when she first came to Edinburgh, he would have kept far away. He had bullied her and threatened her for discovering his part in a woman’s terrible death, then made a weak atonement by helping her meet with her brother Andrew on the morning he left for Soutra, where the English troops occupied the great Hospital of the Trinity. James had gone to some bother to arrange the meeting but it hardlymade up for his earlier behaviour. On the other hand, he was her uncle’s business partner, and kin to the man she believed the rightful king. Margaret had changed so since the spring, becoming brusquer, more comfortable with him and many of the townsfolk. He liked her new manner, but he wondered how stable it was.
    ‘I merely thought to give you the opportunity to think again about the contents, embarrassing family secrets—’
    ‘I’m no fool,’ she said. ‘I’d not make the mistake of showing you such a letter. I pray you, read it and save me the breath.’ She stationed herself a little away from him, hands clasped behind her.
    His curiosity roused, James settled back to read. In short order he saw the possible connection to recent events.
    As soon as James put down the letter, Margaret said, ‘I’ve no doubt you are fully informed about Old Will, and my family’s caskets being searched in my uncle’s undercroft.’
    ‘Yes. I take it you think that last night’s search was a continuation of those in Perth.’
    ‘I cannot help but think so,’ she said with emotion, for a moment allowing him to see her fear.
    ‘You won’t find me disagreeing. What would you have me do?’
    She placed her hands on the table at which he sat and leaned close. ‘My uncle swears he knewnothing of the contents of the caskets, so he cannot tell whether anything was taken. I would go to Perth, talk to Fergus and Mother. By now they might be aware of some missing items.’
    James met her frank, almost eager gaze, but did not speak for a moment, wildly wondering whether she could have overheard his conversation with the messenger, for Perth was on the way to Kinclaven.
    His silence made Margaret uneasy. She blushed and straightened, moving a little away from him. ‘I should not have left Fergus alone. He is too young.’
    James sensed no artifice in Margaret. ‘Of course you are concerned. But such a journey is difficult in the best of times. Now it is difficult and foolhardy, particularly for a woman. The soldiers tire of their camp followers.’
    Margaret blushed. ‘I do not suggest this lightly. My family – we must know whence comes this danger.’
    ‘There is a difference between possible danger and certain danger, Margaret. No one was hurt by the intruders.’
    ‘Old Will?’ she challenged, her eyes bold.
    ‘Of course, but none of your kin.’
    She sighed with impatience but dropped her gaze. ‘I’d hoped you might escort me, or know of someone who might.’
    James wondered whether the messenger hadbeen fool enough to stop at the tavern. He hesitated.
    ‘I ask too much,’ she said. ‘I have nothing with which to repay you for the risk