If Zechariah was going to import a driver from Scotland, Ruth was going to learn how to shout at him in Scot and then Gaelic, for good measure. If both of those didn’t terrify the poor man, then she was going to drive the carriage herself, if she had to.

And at that youthful comment, Ruth laughed. “I missed you too, little brother,” she said with that deep, soft voice she had. Maybe that could have been believable as a sincere comment. Maybe. But then she added “Red is right,” and old southern German motto she had taken from somewhere. Or maybe just a prisoner of Zenda’s quote, who could tell.

Ruth followed the whole odd tale with interested and concluded with a “thank you”. She was going to enjoy her first night in Whitby. Also, she was exhausted, way more than she could tell, emotionally drained and distress. Maybe some nice food was going to give her the comfort she could get from her brother. Granted, she could never have asked. That was their way. [end]