The Party had been in full swing for about an hour, when Rendell suddenly struck the dinner gong. The unexpected noise caused everyone to fall silent, which was clearly what the Earl, standing by the fireplace, expected - for he gave a little smirk.

"I would like to thank you all for coming here this evening," he began, "and for your ... gifts."

He cast a disparaging glance around the room at the wreathes.

"I have, in fact, a gift of my own," he continued. "A true symbol of Verrisay, which I intend as a gift for my lovely wife."

He made a signal to Rendell, who moved forward carrying a blue velvet cushion. Something was resting on it - something that glittered and shone.

"I've been looking into some possibilities for the development of the island," MacKenzie-Brown continued, "in the course of which it has been necessary to carry out some excavations. This has meant grubbing up some of the old cairns and burial mounds - in the course of which, my workmen came across ... this."

He reached for the cushion and lifted its contents into the air.

It was a cross, between four and six inches in length. It was made of gold, a strange filigree pattern ... and it was inlaid with precious stones, but also with painted enamel - a strange and complex object - and clearly very old.

"I say!" breathed Oswald softly. "That looks Celtic to me. Like something out of the Book of Kells."

"Come here, my dear," said MacKenizie-Brown to his wife. "Let's see how it looks against your gown. In the New Year, we shall have it set with a clasp so that you can wear it properly."

Selina knew audiences, and she felt uneasily that this one was -- off. Dead as a night when the star had the 'flu. Dead as a night when somebody mentioned Macb -- the Scottish Play backstage. Out in the backwoods, the cast working in front of a crowd like this would be warily anticipating the swift arrival onstage of overripe farm produce.

Zap felt the same sort of uneasiness in the group. It reminded him most uncomfortably of a certain vaudeville performace of Musical Sheep Shearers, years before, when Zapno and Mapcase had been rather far down the bill. Behind the Sheep Shearers, in fact.

Selina did not think that this grandstand stunt of Douglas's was going to go over well. Selina, however, knew her blocking, and she knew what the director -- that is, her husband would do to her if she loused it up.

With no outward sign of perturbation, then, she swept across the floor to the fireplace, graceful as a swan. "Why, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed with a throaty gasp of wonder, throwing her voice across the whole room in hopes that they would take it as she meant it, a compliment to Verrisay. "Oh, Douglas, it *can't* be for me -- it's too much, really!"

David Bannister turned from where he was having his conversation with the Earl to watch the grandstanding play from MacKenzie-Brown right on the other side of the fireplace. His eyes scrutinized the cross and smiled when Selina strode over to inspect the piece.

"A lovely piece, my darling, isn't it?" David said softly to Patience.

Patience's eyes widened, "Oh my, yes! It is absolutely lovely. I wonder what..." Her comments were interrupted by the exclamation of Dr. Marsden.

Sandra's complexion turned bright red at Mr. MacKenzie-Brown's admission his men had been digging in the ruins.

Then she turned absolutely vivid when she saw the cross. "Fit it with a clasp?!" she exclaimed loudly, pushing her way up towards the front of the room. "That's the Verrisay Cross if I'm not mistaken! It's an antiquity! Not jewelery! It belongs in a museum, not around your wife's neck!" she demanded furiously as she confronted Douglas.

If possible, Patience's chocolate gaze grew wider. "Oh my..."

Garreth put a hand on Colin's arm. "I'll handle this," he assured his friend as he strode quickly to the archaeologist.

"Doctor, please," he said. "Let me fetch you a drink. What the Laird might do with family heirlooms is up to his discretion." He took Sandra's arm in his and tried to turn her from the fiasco just waiting to happen.

Willie caught Selina's eye while all this was going on. He nodded slightly and gave her a crooked half smile, telling her silently that she was doing well, that she should continue in that vein, that it would be all right. Somehow...

"Family heirloom!?" Sandra snapped. "It's an antiquity!" she protested as Garreth turned her away from Douglas. "It will be ruined if he does anything to it! Worthless! Don't you understand?"

Selina snatched her hand away from the cross as if it had been electrified. "Oh, dear," she quavered. "Douglas, is she right? Where did you get it?"

"I told you where I got it," he said impatiently, setting it back down on the cushion, and signalling Rendell to put it away on a side table. "Are you deaf as well as stupid, Selina?

"My workmen found it in a burial mound. As for a museum piece ... It was found here - on my island. Verrisay is mine ... and what's found on mine belongs to me too."

Colin's hands clenched at his sides.

Will, too, was clenched, and clearly unhappy, but for the moment he said nothing...

Oswald Bastable looked at that latest incident with some interest. He had been idly wandering the party with things clearly on his mind. He was dressed in his army dress uniform. Those knowledgable in such things could see his rank was Major and that he served in both the Boer War and World War I.

Dr. Campbell's face was surprised as the MacKenzie-Brown made his announcement. "I always thought tha' was just legend ... bad form that." He added to Lady Bellmore. It was not clear whether he meant MacKenzie's gift or Marsden's outburst, or perhaps both.

With Garreth preoccupied with attempting to restrain the archaeologist, it seemed to fall to Adrian to attempt to calm Colin. "Yes, Colin, he's being an ass - but Selina seemed to have him wrapped 'round her finger at the reception. Let's give her a chance to talk some sense into him, and then see if he responds to sense."

He reached out to put one hand onto the ex-Laird's shoulder. "Take a deep breath. You don't stand a chance of making him see reason if you're not able to act rationally yourself."

"Reason?" said Colin bitterly. "You know what he's planning to do? Abolish the old system of islanders paying in labour or in kind - and start charging them cash rents! But the economy in the Isles doesn't work like that. Crofting doesn't work like that. I tell you, Quinn, there won't be a native-born islander left on Verrisay within a twelvemonth!"

His voice was not loud, but people standing close - including the Rector and those he had been speaking with - were near enough to overhear.

"Ill news," Dr. Campbell said to the Rector quietly. "I canna continue my practice if I have to charge the local folk money to pay the rents. Most pay in barter, as is custom."

The Rector nodded. "At best the men would be forced away to look for work," he said quietly. "And there are precious few jobs to be had even in Glasgow these days. I would be like the Clearances come again, Will, with whole families forced to ship for the colonies."

The look on the former laird of Verrisay's face was enough to convince Adrian that he wasn't joking. After a pause to allow himself time to grasp the implications of Colin's statement, he attempted to defuse Colin's ill humor with an attempt at a joke. "I guess that even if he went to University, he failed his economics course. Either that, or else he really, really wants to be alone." The humor sounded forced, even to Adrian's ear. *Oh, Douglas, whatever happened to the boy that Aunt Cassie would have been proud of?* he thought to himself.

Selina coloured, and her face set. She had passed over his covert public sarcasm, and let him say whatever he liked in private -- but he had never, ever been openly rude to her in front of guests.

"Well, if it's yours, then keep it, Douglas; I don't think I want any part of it," she said, not loudly. She walked away from him toward the center of the room with whatever poor fragments of dignity she could muster, cheeks still ruby-red with chagrin.

MacKenzie-Brown looked at William St Pierre. "I think," he said quietly, "you should warn your sister that displays of petulance will cost her dearly. Very dearly."

Will colored slightly. If he nodded, it was barely a nod. He went over to Selina and every movement one of sympathy, his head bent towards her flushed, unhappy face, he drew her aside.

"Dearly? As this island will also, apparently," Sandra said as she twisted away from Garreth. "You said you were digging in the old mounds... why?! They're historically important! They should only be touched by scholars!" she insisted, her color still high.

"She's right, you know," said Mabel Tawney, not loudly but distinctly enough to be heard by anyone standing near her. Archaeology was not Miss Tawney's field, but as a scholar herself she had an appreciation of the value of antiquity and its historical importance.

"Sandra, now's not the time," Garreth said, hoping the use of her Christian name might catch her attention. "You'll have another chance to discuss it with him. He doesn't have a silversmith on the guest list for dinner, so relax, please?"

"Much good that will do," said Colin bitterly. "By the time the law swings into action, the Cross will have been mutilated."

"Maybe not. If she shows a little more backbone that has she has so far tonight, his wife might be able to talk some sense into him." Adrian's voice then dropped to something meant for Colin's ears alone. "Besides, he can't mutilate what he can't find, if it comes to that. He and Laura haven't spoken since they were teenagers, and I'm starting to think she might have the right of it."

Sandra frowned at Garreth for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "I... have to think," she muttered to him (and anyone close enough to hear). "There may be something under Scottish Law.. I don't remember... Yes... A glass of wine, please," she asked.

Selina went with her brother, unresisting. "Willie? How long do we have to stay here?" she whispered, once they were as alone as they could manage to be.

"Seelie... this is more complicated than we thought it was going to be." His voice was practically a whisper. "If ever we needed to play it close to the vest... to be careful... it's now. Your new husband... he's controlling the deck right now."

"I don't care. You don't have to live with him, Willie. He's impossible. You heard him!"

"That's right. I heard him. You know what happens if we leave the table now? While he's running the board?"

Selina searched Will's face. She did not find what she wanted there. "So I'm just supposed to stand there and take it?" she asked, disbelieving.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Seelie. I swear it. I've got your back."

"Yeah. Sure you do, Willie. Sure you do. We all just saw, didn't we? He told you to shut me up, and here you are shutting me up. Fat lot of good you are."

"This isn't what I thought it would be. He isn't what I thought he would be." His eyes were desperate. The facade of cool, controlled detachment was gone.

Selina stared again. This time, the colour drained from her face instead of suffusing it. "Oh, Willie. What are we going to do?"

"Hold on as long and as well as we can. And look for the best way out. I won't let anything happen to you, Seelie."

Selina sighed. "I'll try. I'll try, Willie. I don't like him. I don't like what he's making me be. Please, Willie, soon?"

"Look at me," he said gently. When she did, he said, "We won't spend a minute longer in this place than we have to. I got us into this and... I'll get us out."

"All right, Willie. I trust you." She cast a glance behind her. "We'd better go. The party's breaking up."

"Some party," he said, with a trace of his old tone and an approximation of his crooked grin. The suit he'd brought for the occasion was a little rumpled now, as was his hair. He took out his cigarette case and lit a cigarette, then offered the case to Selina.

She shook her head. "Not tonight. If I start I won't stop." She took his arm -- the one without the cigarette in it -- and waited for him to be ready to leave.

He thought it likely MacKenzie-Brown didn't approve of her smoking, so he nodded and put the case back. "You're a good actress, Selina. Better than you give yourself credit for." He smiled at her. "We'll get through this. We always do."

She rested her glossy blonde head on his shoulder, just for a moment. "I guess we do. I'm getting really tired of this character, though, Willie."

"I know. Just think, though... for every time he insults or humiliates you... we'll make him pay. In the end, he'll pay for all of it."

"Oh, Willie. I'd almost rather just go."

He took a long drag of his cigarette and it seemed to center him. "I know. But it won't play out that way. Not this time."

Selina narrowed her eyes. "At that, he deserves it. No matter how stupid he thinks I am, he shouldn't have said it. Not tonight. Not here."

He nodded. "He's just playacting being a gentleman. And he's doing a poor job of it." The dim light gave him a shadowy appearance, with his dark hair and eyes. Only the glow of the cigarette gave him dimension.

Selina suddenly smiled. "Well, if he can playact, I can. Come on, Willie. Let's go knock 'em dead."

He grinned at her. "That's the spirit. That's the sister I love."

Josette took in the speech, presentation, confrontation, and most especially, the cross itself, with relish. Finally! Something more exciting than a dreary old reception line of more than a dozen wreaths that all looked the same to her...

"This isn't right," Zap, sitting beside her, said quietly.

"Hmm?" Josette asked distractedly, as she watched Rendall put the cross on the table. A look on her face Zap had seen more than once as they'd perused the display cases at Tiffany's."

(That had, of course, been well before Zap had been thrown out of Tiffany's after the incident concerning the bagful of fake gemstones. Though the look on the doorman's face upon being tipped the giant emerald had been well worth the permanent ban, to Zap's way of thinking.)

Then her eyes landed on Selina. "Oh!" she said, coming to attention, "No...Why on earth would Selina marry such a...surly person! His fun side doesn't exactly pop out does it?"

"I think we ought to go talk to her."

Garreth fetched the wine for Sandra, but neglected one for himself this time. "I can have a friend look deeper into it, and I believe Colin has some information on it in the Institute's papers."

"You mentioned a Laura?" Garreth asked Adrian.

"My sister - and therefore also Douglas' cousin, although she'd never admit it to anybody who wasn't already family. I believe you met my niece, Emma Sinclair? Laura is her mother."

Garreth nods, "Of course."

"So what did Doug do before he took up Lairding? Where's his money from?" Garreth asks. "Is it a family business?"

Quinn replied, "If so, then it's on the Mackenzie-Brown side of his family. My grandparents - the ones I have in common with Douglas - kept a general store near Aberdeen. Uncle Patrick and Aunt Cassandra left for America - Chicago, I think - when Douglas was six or seven. Before that, they always spend Christmas here, and we joined them a few times. I came back once or twice after that, during summers while I was at University."

"When was last time you saw the Laird, young Douglas?" Garreth asks.

"Most recently, at his wedding in mid-May. I suspect his mother had something to do with that since not only were Laura and Iain invited, but they actually went. Before that..." [pause] "I think that the last time before that was at my mother's funeral, about three years ago. I remember being surprised he was there, since Douglas was never that close to his Aunt Meredith."

"Do you know what he was doing back then? For a living?" Garreth asked.

"No, I don't," Adrian answered. "He may have said, but the only thing I remember is being so surprised he was there in the first place. His wedding reception wasn't really a fit place to ask, either. If it's that important, I could get him to remind me later during this visit, or ring Aunt Cassandra when I get back to the mainland."

"No, just idle curiosity at the background of the new CO, if you take my meaning," Garrett explained. "The measure of the man and such. Something to temper this impression he's made tonight."

"Is he changed much from when he was a child? Perhaps there's something happy there that I might pass on to the villagers," he joked.

"Well, he wasn't this much of a bully. But I was off to South Africa about the time that they moved, so take 30-year old memories for what they're worth. I remember him as outdoorsy, and not particularly bookish - but, that trait doesn't ususally manifest when one is six or seven."

He continued, "I do know that he and my sister had a horrible row over something during one of their visits when she was a teenager, but she's never told me what it was about - refused to talk about it the one time I asked. They haven't spoken since, aside from the requisite pleasantries when he got married."

Garreth nodded. "I've heard he had some common friends in London. Have you ever heard him speak of a George Yohe ?" he asked. "Or perhaps you know him?" The barrister seemed to be watching Aidan for a reaction to the name.

"The name rings a bell." Adrian thought for a moment. "An old school chum of Douglas', I think he said."

After a moment, he added, "I think that he died shortly before Uncle Patrick, Aunt Cassandra, and Douglas left for America. They were hunting grouse together, or something like that.

"I'm enough older than Douglas and Laura that I'm not going to be able to help you much more on this one. I don't know whether Iain and Laura know the Yohes, but you're welcome to ask Emma, if you like."

"No bother, perhaps later," Garreth said shrugging it off.

End of Chapter 5

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