cheerful, but with an even heavier brogue. "There’s no need for introductions," he assured them. "My friends call me Badger. Have done ever since I was a wee bairn. But that’s another story." With a confident air, he walked right past them both and sat down in the recliner in front of the sofa. "Sylla explained what you wanted to know. I’m only sorry I kept you waiting. "
"Not a problem." Kayla blinked a few times. She wasn’t expecting Sylla’s husband to be quite so old. Robust, however, was the word that came to mind when she looked at him. His clear eyes, spry step, and engaging manner indicated he was in good health and better spirits. Not bad for someone who was easily in his middle sixties.
"Did Sylla, The Sullen, scare you?" He laughed again, low and deep. "She’s been telling that nasty story to anyone who will listen. I personally think it’s more gross than frightening." He put his finger over his lips. "Shhh… But that’s my little secret."
Taking their cue from Badger, Liv and Kayla both sat back down.
He looked at them both for a long moment, saying nothing. But Kayla didn’t experience the unnerving feeling that often accompanied such scrutiny. It was, she decided, comfortable.
There was a gentleness and intensity in his pale eyes that Liv instantly found appealing and she found herself relaxing. Or maybe I just have a thing for blue eyes, she admitted privately.
Badger’s thick hair and full beard stood out against his ruddy skin and were as white as new snow. Even the patch of curly chest hair that showed in the opening of his shirt was white. He wore a kilt and shirt that matched Brody’s, and by the way he moved, she could tell he was more comfortable in them than the younger Cobb. A couple of inches shorter than Kayla’s five feet eleven, he was sturdily built, with thick forearms and calves and a chest like a tree trunk. When he smiled, Liv couldn’t help but smile back. He looked a lot Santa Claus – if Santa were willing to go to a local pub with you and toss a few back.
The man’s face suddenly turned a little sheepish. "I’m sorry for startling you. That was a little mean." But there was an undisguised twinkle in his eyes that kept his apology from being too sincere.
"Apology accepted," Liv said readily.
"Good." Badger nodded approvingly. Every couple had to have a peacemaker. And in this case it was obviously the pretty, green-eyed lass. "I understand from Sylla that you only have a couple of hours before you need to return to town." He pulled his pipe from the well-worn, badger-pelt sporran at his waist and held it up for their inspection. "Do you mind?"
Kayla shook her head. "Not at all."
He grinned and lit it. A few puffs later and the sweet aroma of pipe tobacco filled the room. "I don’t know if I can tell you Faylinn Cobb’s whole story in just two hours," he warned, closing his eyes in pleasure as he drew in a deep, smoke-filled breath. "She was an interesting woman and I don’t like stopping a tale too many times once I’ve started." He pulled the pipe from between his teeth. "Stops the flow of the story."
Kayla’s worked her jaw. God, is everyone in this family a wanna-be actor? "We could come back," she supplied somewhat reluctantly. "Later in the week maybe."
"Aye, you could… tomorrow?"
Blue eyes narrowed. "Maybe."
Liv patted Kayla’s knee. She would come back as many times as it took. Assuming she could still walk after consuming all that shortbread. Now that her appetite was back she felt ravenous.
"Excellent! Tomorrow it is then. Now tell me what you already know."
Kayla shifted uncomfortably, feeling a little guilty for even being related to Faylinn’s husband. "We know she lived in London for a time, but mostly here. At least until she married Cyril Redding and moved to the Colonies."
He continued to puff his pipe contentedly. "All true. Go on."
"Cyril… um…" Kayla’s gaze flicked to Liv then back, where it stayed. "He died under
"Not a problem." Kayla blinked a few times. She wasn’t expecting Sylla’s husband to be quite so old. Robust, however, was the word that came to mind when she looked at him. His clear eyes, spry step, and engaging manner indicated he was in good health and better spirits. Not bad for someone who was easily in his middle sixties.
"Did Sylla, The Sullen, scare you?" He laughed again, low and deep. "She’s been telling that nasty story to anyone who will listen. I personally think it’s more gross than frightening." He put his finger over his lips. "Shhh… But that’s my little secret."
Taking their cue from Badger, Liv and Kayla both sat back down.
He looked at them both for a long moment, saying nothing. But Kayla didn’t experience the unnerving feeling that often accompanied such scrutiny. It was, she decided, comfortable.
There was a gentleness and intensity in his pale eyes that Liv instantly found appealing and she found herself relaxing. Or maybe I just have a thing for blue eyes, she admitted privately.
Badger’s thick hair and full beard stood out against his ruddy skin and were as white as new snow. Even the patch of curly chest hair that showed in the opening of his shirt was white. He wore a kilt and shirt that matched Brody’s, and by the way he moved, she could tell he was more comfortable in them than the younger Cobb. A couple of inches shorter than Kayla’s five feet eleven, he was sturdily built, with thick forearms and calves and a chest like a tree trunk. When he smiled, Liv couldn’t help but smile back. He looked a lot Santa Claus – if Santa were willing to go to a local pub with you and toss a few back.
The man’s face suddenly turned a little sheepish. "I’m sorry for startling you. That was a little mean." But there was an undisguised twinkle in his eyes that kept his apology from being too sincere.
"Apology accepted," Liv said readily.
"Good." Badger nodded approvingly. Every couple had to have a peacemaker. And in this case it was obviously the pretty, green-eyed lass. "I understand from Sylla that you only have a couple of hours before you need to return to town." He pulled his pipe from the well-worn, badger-pelt sporran at his waist and held it up for their inspection. "Do you mind?"
Kayla shook her head. "Not at all."
He grinned and lit it. A few puffs later and the sweet aroma of pipe tobacco filled the room. "I don’t know if I can tell you Faylinn Cobb’s whole story in just two hours," he warned, closing his eyes in pleasure as he drew in a deep, smoke-filled breath. "She was an interesting woman and I don’t like stopping a tale too many times once I’ve started." He pulled the pipe from between his teeth. "Stops the flow of the story."
Kayla’s worked her jaw. God, is everyone in this family a wanna-be actor? "We could come back," she supplied somewhat reluctantly. "Later in the week maybe."
"Aye, you could… tomorrow?"
Blue eyes narrowed. "Maybe."
Liv patted Kayla’s knee. She would come back as many times as it took. Assuming she could still walk after consuming all that shortbread. Now that her appetite was back she felt ravenous.
"Excellent! Tomorrow it is then. Now tell me what you already know."
Kayla shifted uncomfortably, feeling a little guilty for even being related to Faylinn’s husband. "We know she lived in London for a time, but mostly here. At least until she married Cyril Redding and moved to the Colonies."
He continued to puff his pipe contentedly. "All true. Go on."
"Cyril… um…" Kayla’s gaze flicked to Liv then back, where it stayed. "He died under
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