Chapter 71
Between the ongoing rain, his chilly rooms at the boarding house, and the clammy undercurrent of worry that accompanied him every hour of every day now, McDuff half suspected he’d never warm up again.
Standing inches away from the roaring fireplace in Jean’s study was the closest he’d gotten in days.
Jean herself perched in her usual leather chair, with a thick ivory wool blanket tucked around her. Father Hall had even thrown a heavy brown lap blanket over his long legs.
Both of them added a liberal splash of whiskey to their tea, calling it medicine against the foul weather and endless drafts.
McDuff had refused so far, but not on any sort of newly adopted principle. He suspected Victoria’s pendant and potion reduced his dependence on the numbing effects of drink without h
