36
10:53 p.m.
Tavish’s mobile rang as soon as they left the restaurant. “Hullo.”
Laetitia was going to walk away to give him privacy, when he snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her toward him as they walked to his car.
“Nae, I have plans. Why next weekend?” He sighed profoundly, annoyed. “Aye, aye. Of course. We’ll be there.”
He hung up, fuming, and shoved the iPhone in his overcoat inner pocket.
Laetitia listened to the one-sided conversation with interest but made no sense of it.
She waited for him to tell her about it. They were halfway to his house when he said in a dry tone, “It was Alistair Connor. He requested or rather demanded my presence this weekend in Ells Hall.”
“Your brother? This weekend? Ells Hall?” Can’t you form an intelligent or even coherent sentence, Laeti
