FIRESIDE THOUGHTSAll three men settled on tea with a wee dram of Lord Cuthbert’s finest whisky. Grace declined the latter on account of already being warm from setting the fire to a roaring flame which all four clustered around. The night suddenly seemed rather less eerie, the company smiling as if long lost friends reacquainted.
“You have done a most excellent job, Miss Grace. Finding and making such a perfect brew is accomplished, whilst igniting a fire with the matches that as far as I’m aware have not moved from over there,” Lord Cuthbert thumbed to a shelf at his rear, “is even more spectacular.”
“Hear, hear,” said Fothergill.
“Not quite,” said Grace revealing and shaking a box of her own.
“Ah, you came prepared.” Lord Cuthbert inclined his head.
“Grace is the most prepared perso
