“Really?” I said. “The barmaid at the pub seemed nice enough.”
“Oh, she’s all right,” said Elliot, “but the rest of them gave Kate and me the cold shoulder when we stopped in there last night. Clammed up the minute we walked in and stared at us until we left. We felt like exotic specimens in a zoo.”
“You probably did seem exotic,” I said. “Percy told us that they don’t get many visitors here.”
“Well, they won’t see Kate and me again,” said Elliot. “We’ll have our evening drinks in front of the fire in the library from now on. We don’t mind being stared at by Sir Percy’s portrait collection.”
He dropped us off at the castle’s main entrance, and we hurried up to the suite to shower and change. I showered, at any rate. Damian must have worked contortionist miracles in his powder room, because he was clean as a whistle and neatly dressed when we went down to join Sir Percy in the dining room.
We took our places at the table, and Mrs. Gammidge entered, carrying a tureen. As she removed the lid, the tantalizing aroma of crab bisque wafted through the air. My stomach growled its approval—our seafaring adventure had sharpened my appetite to a fine point.
Sir Percy opened the mealtime conversation in his own unique way by offering to replace the skull from the cove with one he’d received as a gift while visiting Borneo—“I don’t want Will and Rob to go home empty-handed!”—but I politely refused.
“The Borneo skull was a gift, Percy,” I said. “You’re not supposed to give away gifts.”
“True enough,” he agreed philosophically. “It’s the skull of an old chieftain, you see. Loaded with magic. I’d probably bring a curse down on my head if I gave it away. Still, it’s a pity the twins can’t keep the one they found. Boys like that sort of thing.” He turned to Damian. “Must you send it off to Glasgow?”
“It may aid the police in solving a crime,” Damian reminded him.
“Not likely,” said Sir Percy. “Not unless they’re still working on a case that’s several hundred years old.”
“What are you talking about, Percy?” I asked.
“The skull’s ancient,” he informed us. “You can tell by its color. I’m surprised you didn’t spot it, Damian.”
“I haven’t had a chance to examine the skull closely,” Damian pointed out.
“We have,” said Sir Percy. “God alone knows where it came from, but the poor blighter whose brains it once protected suffered a rather nasty end. Cranium cracked like a soft-boiled egg. It’s a wonder it held together all this time.”
“Sir Percy.” Mrs. Gammidge eyed her employer reprovingly. “There are more suitable subjects for discussion at table. I’m certain you can find one.”
“What? Oh, yes, sorry. Forgot myself.” Sir Percy supped his soup in silence for a moment before beginning again. “Andrew told me of your impromptu visit to Cieran’s Chapel. Did you enjoy the trip, Lori?”
“It was too wet to be enjoyable,” I replied. “But it was interesting.The barmaid at the pub thinks I’ve brought a curse down on my head by going out there.”
“The islanders are a superstitious lot,” Sir Percy acknowledged. “Erinskil’s not so different from Borneo when you get right down to it.”
“Did you know that a curse was associated with the Chapel, sir?” asked Damian. “It wasn’t mentioned in the dossier.”
“If I’d included every queer story I’ve heard about Cieran’s Chapel since I arrived on Erinskil, the dossier would have weighed more than I do,” said Sir Percy. “But now that you mention it, I’ll tell you a curious thing. A guest of mine—a chap who runs a major corporation—went out there once. Broke his leg two days later.” He shrugged. “Make of it what you will.”
“I’ll watch my step,” I promised.
“A bit too late for that.” Sir Percy waggled his soup spoon at me. “I heard about your run-in with the young oaf at the pub. Spilled tea all over you, didn’t he?”
“I’ll take spilled tea over a broken leg any old day,” I said, laughing. “And he’s not an oaf—he’s my next-door neighbor.”
“He’s . . . what?” asked Sir Percy, nonplussed.
“My neighbor,” I replied. “His name is Peter Harris, and he grew up next door to me. His parents are my closest friends in England.”
“Did they send him to keep an eye on you?” asked Sir Percy.