“What was she talking about, Mother?” Jonathan said from the stairs.
Thea forced herself to smile, then shut the door and turned to her sons. “She had some concerns about Lord Lyon,” she said, giving them part of the truth.
“She was upset,” Christopher declared.
“People often are when they don’t have their way,” Thea said, coming up the stairs. She gathered her boys close to her and gave them a hug. They smelled of the soap they’d used to scrub behind their ears, as well as dirt—a sign that theonlyplace they’d washed was behind their ears. She welcomed the opportunity to take her mind off Lady Margaret’s disturbing visit. “You boys haven’t washed your faces and necks,” she accused.
“We tried,” Jonathan said.
Thea gave him a doubtful look. “I believe you did just a bit. I think you washed here, and here.” She punctuated her words by giving each of them a wiggle of their earlobes. Both giggled and she felt her mood lighten.
“How did you know?” Jonathan asked.
“I’m your mother. I know everything about you because I love you so much.” To her surprise, tears filled her eyes.
“What’s the matter?” kindhearted Christopher asked, his expression worried. “Did someone hurt you?”
“No one hurt me,” Thea answered. “I cry because I’m happy.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m very happy.”
“I’m happy too,” Christopher assured her.
“Now let us go and give you both a proper washing,” Thea said. She started up the stairs with Christopher. Jonathan held back. She turned to him. “Come along, Jonny.”
Instead of obeying, he said with troubled eyes, “What did that woman mean about a witch?”
Thea wished he hadn’t overheard. “Eavesdropping is very bad manners.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jonathan answered dutifully. “Are you in trouble?”
“No,” Thea quickly replied. She sat on the step in front of him so that they were eye level. “I’m in no trouble.”
“Is Lord Lyon in trouble?”
This one was trickier. “I don’t think so. He doesn’t believe he is, and, as I said to his sister, what he thinks is all that is important. As to the witch, she was having bad dreams. You’ve had bad dreams before, so you know they can be scary. But we can’t live our lives being afraid of dreams.”
Jonathan digested this a moment and then nodded his head.
“Come upstairs,” Thea instructed. “It’s time for all of us to go to bed ... after you have rewashed your faces.”
Groans from Jonathan met her demand and she knew he had accepted her explanation.
She thought she was done with it.
But in the wee hours of the morning, Thea found herself staring at the ceiling, reliving thescene with Lady Margaret. The woman was not a fool. Her dreams frightened her.
Either there was madness in the Chattan family, or there really was something to fear.
“Idon’t see anything wrong with this list, do you, my lord?” Sir James asked Neal.
Neal sat in the chair in front of his desk. He’d brought the list to Sir James for his opinion. “No,” he replied noncommittally.
“You aren’t satisfied?” Sir James hazarded.
Neal wasn’t certain what he felt. “They are all from exceptional families. I know many of their extended family members.”
“Do they not meet your criteria?”
They met them too well.“Yes.”