“Hospitality,” Renie murmured, and sighed. “Scotland is famous for it. We thank you for yours, Mr. Fordyce. Or do I call you ‘Master’?”
Judith tensed. Renie didn’t like being ignored. Trouble was already brewing.
“Mr. Fordyce will do,” Philip replied. “The title is honorary.”
“And deferential,” Renie noted. She smiled, the phony, toothsome smile that usually spelled impending disaster. “How quaint.”
The little boat plied the waters in silence for the rest of the short trip. Judith was relieved that Philip Fordyce hadn’t risen to the bait. After all, Renie couldn’t swim.
The cousins immediately retreated to Judith and Joe’s room.
“Trophy wife,” Renie said. “Big-shot CEO dumps wife number one and lands beautiful raven-tressed bimbo.”
Judith stretched out on the bed. “I’m not sure she’s a bimbo. The only thing I was sure of was that you were trying to provoke Philip Fordyce. Wasn’t decking Mrs. Gunn enough brutality for you today?”
Renie shrugged. “Did Mrs. Gibbs say they had high tea?”
“She did, in fact,” Judith said. “At four. It’s a few minutes after.”
“Better late than never,” Renie said. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, coz, I’m tired! You go. I think I’ll take a nap.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Head for the trough. Let me know when you’re finished.”
It didn’t take long for Judith to fall asleep. Maybe she was still suffering from jet lag. Maybe she’d walked too much in the past couple of days. Maybe the excitement of the trip had tired her. But, she’d told herself when she stretched out under the down comforter, the reason she’d gone on vacation was that she was already worn out. It was time to relax and recreate. Sleep was necessary; sleep was healing.
Upon awakening, Judith looked at her watch. To her astonishment, it was going on six. She’d slept for almost two hours. Even Renie couldn’t take that long to gobble up high tea.
Judith cautiously got out of the canopied bed and stepped onto the furry area rug instead of the cold stone floor. After slipping on her shoes, she went across the passageway to see if Renie was in the Joneses’ room. There was no response to Judith’s knock, so she opened the unlocked door and called her cousin’s name. No one answered. Perhaps Renie was still enjoying a hearty tea meal. Or she’d gotten into a row with Philip Fordyce. Maybe there was a note. Judith glanced at the parcel containing Renie’s new sweaters. There was nothing on the bureau except for Bill’s assortment of small change, travel information, and a new pair of shoelaces. The empty suitcases were stored in the wardrobe. The mantel revealed nothing. Judith gave up.
Halfway to the door, she was startled by a voice. Judith stopped to listen. “Open the gate,” said the high- pitched voice. “Open the gate.”
There was no one in the room and the tall windows were shut, so Judith assumed the voice was coming from the passageway. She went to the door. The corridor was empty. The other guest rooms were supposedly vacant. Judith stood on the threshold and listened. But there was no further sound. Puzzled, she crossed the passageway just as Renie came up the stairs.
“Wow,” Renie said in an awed voice. “That was some tea! Scones and shortbread and sandwiches and…What’s wrong? You look weird.”
Judith shook herself. “Nothing. I was looking for you in your room and I heard somebody talking. But nobody was there.”
Renie laughed. “Are you nuts?”
“No. No, of course not.”
“Come on,” Renie said. “Let’s go into my room so I can put away my sweaters.”
“I haven’t put my own things away,” Judith said, indicating the summer clothes she was still wearing.
“Okay,” Renie said, “I’ll come with you. Opening bags and boxes of new wearables is one of my favorite things, right next to buying them.”
As Judith removed her items from their wrappings, she asked Renie if Philip and Beth had shown up for tea.
“No,” Renie said, sitting on the bed and dangling her feet over the side. “They’re staying on the other side of the castle. For some reason, Philip wanted to see Chuckie, but he couldn’t be found. The Fordyces are definitely married. And that’s a Daimler Super Eight that he drives. They’re really expensive. The whiskey business must be good.”
“I suspect it is,” Judith agreed, hanging up one of the pairs of slacks she’d bought. “I think I’ll wear the other slacks and the twin set for dinner tonight. It’ll seem strange eating without Joe and Bill here. Do you think the Fordyces will join us?”
“I doubt it,” Renie replied. “Mrs. Gibbs mentioned that they might drive into Inverness tonight. The lovely Beth wants to go to a jazz club. I’m kind of full. Will I be hungry by eight-thirty?”
“Probably,” Judith said. “It just drives me nuts that your metabolism lets you eat like Petunia Pig and you never gain an ounce while I constantly wage the weight battle.”
Renie shrugged. “It’s not my fault. My hair won’t turn gray, either.” She twirled a short strand of her chestnut curls. “Freak of nature, that’s me.”
Judith ignored the remark. “Did you find out how we’re going to get to Mass tomorrow?”
“Oh—yes,” Renie said. “I almost forgot. The castle’s original chapel is still in use because Philip is a Catholic. They row a priest from somewhere, usually around eleven.”
