"Welcome to Strathmourne, Mrs. Lovat," Adam said, gallant words to match his dark good looks and courtly manners as he bent smiling over her hand in a graceful swirl of red Sinclair tartan.
After clasping Peregrine's hand in more hearty congratulation, he invited the pair of them to follow him into the house. The swordsmen remained at salute until he had passed through the arched doorway, then smartly extended the blades in a sword arch for the happy couple, to the obvious approval of the wedding guests.
"Well done," came a murmured commendation from a distinguished-looking older man with a military moustache.
Anderson knew the speaker well; and when he and his partner had closed the arch behind the couple and returned to "shoulder arms" and "dismiss," he came back to attention and gave him a precise military salute. It was General Sir Gordon Scott-Brown who had given Anderson the recommendation that led to employment with Adam for the past ten years. Until invalided out from injuries sustained in a terrorist bombing, John Anderson had been a trooper in the Household Cavalry.
"Good to see you again, Mr. Anderson," the general said, coming to shake the man's hand. "I'm glad to see you haven't forgotten everything they taught you."
"No, sir," Anderson said with a smile. "And young Andrews has proven as a good a student as I ever had. May I present him to you? I've been trying to talk him into a career in the military."
Inside, Peregrine was drawn aside to answer a question from the caterer, and Julia glanced back over her shoulder appreciatively as Adam led her farther into the flower-banked vestibule.
"Oh, Adam, the swords were a wonderful touch," she said. "Peregrine told me you'd arranged a sword arch, but I expected the usual Scottish basket-hilts. Those look very old. Are they ancestral Sinclair treasures?''
"After a fashion," Adam conceded, smiling. "The blades were once used in the service of the Knights Templar - and as you know, both Strathmourne and Templemor were once Templar holdings."
He left unsaid that her new husband had been among those who helped acquire the swords, whilst in pursuit of thieves attempting to locate and plunder a secret Templar strongroom. It was but one of the instances in which Peregrine had aided Adam in his work, on many levels. The public and social face presented by Sir Adam Sinclair, Baronet, declared him a patron of the arts, an antiquarian of some repute, and an aficionado of classic motor cars. Professionally, Dr. Adam Sinclair was well regarded as a psychiatrist and sometime consultant to the Lothian and Borders Police. Only a handful of people, many of them present today, knew anything of his dedication to more arcane pursuits, as white-occultist, Adept, and Master of an esoteric fraternity known as the Hunting Lodge, charged with enforcing the higher laws of the Inner Planes.
"Well, then," said Julia, who was not aware of these other facets of her husband's patron and mentor, "we have the Templars to thank for the swords, I suppose. And thank you, Adam, for making all this possible. Peregrine says you always think of everything, and I'm beginning to see what he means. This whole day…" She gestured around the flower-banked vestibule with a happy sigh. "I still can hardly believe we're having our wedding reception here. You've made it especially magical for us."
"It's my pleasure," Adam assured her. "Consider it part of my wedding present to the pair of you. I only wish the restoration up at Templemor could have been farther along. It would have been a marvellous tribute to your new husband's artistic talents, to have held the reception in the great hall. I very much doubt we'd be even as far along as we are, if it weren't for his artistic vision."
"But Templemor wouldn't have been nearly large enough," Janet Eraser said, come to whisk Julia away to freshen up before joining the receiving line. "The great hall here isn't even big enough. Julia, this is an absolute fairy tale. Just wait until you see the marquee! Come upstairs, and you can look down on the lawn from one of the south bedrooms."
As the two women disappeared up the stair, chattering animatedly, Adam reflected that it was probably as well neither had any idea just how far Peregrine Lovat's range of artistic talents exceeded the norm. It was those particular talents that had commended him to Adam's attention in the first place - and soon had earned him a place as one of Adam's most versatile and useful Huntsmen, a preferred teammate on many an unusual investigation. Adam's Second, Detective Chief Inspector Noel McLeod, had come to value Peregrine's unique talents in a forensic capacity as well, so that on occasion, Peregrine, too, served as a consultant in police investigations that ranged beyond the conventional.
Adam spotted the grey-haired inspector and his wife just outside the door, McLeod uncharacteristically kilted and looking none too happy about it. As he lifted a hand in greeting, Jane McLeod saw him and also raised a hand to wave.
Jane was a rare gem. Adam hoped that Peregrine would be as fortunate in his choice of a mate as McLeod had been - and that he would be as fortunate. Though Peregrine would have been as forthright with Julia as he could be, about the demands sometimes placed upon him - and much could be explained away by the need for confidentiality, when off about police business - the more specific work of the Hunting Lodge was not something that could be readily accepted and understood by those who were not themselves initiates. Nor was it fair to expect active participation from those who had no calling in what, essentially, was a vocation. Given a spouse not so called, mere loving support and unquestioning acceptance were great blessings; and even those were not always granted to those who served the Light. It took a special kind of spouse to accept such an arrangement on trust.
McLeod's Jane was one such spouse - supportive but not herself directly involved - and Adam guessed that Julia would also rise to the challenge. He hardly dared to hope that perhaps, in time, Ximena might be able to do so as well - if the two of them ever got together again for more than a forty-eight-hour flying visit. As for an equal partnership in the Work, like that shared by Christopher and Victoria Houston - he dared not even dream that he might be that fortunate.
A sudden outburst of squeals and childish laughter broke in on his reverie. Glancing back, he saw that Peregrine was playing at being a snapping crocodile for the delighted benefit of Ashley and Alexandra Houston, aged seven and four, Julia's two little flower girls.
"Just offhand," said a crisp contralto voice at Adam's shoulder, "I'd say that Peregrine possesses all the right qualifications for future parenthood, wouldn't you?"
"I would, indeed," Adam agreed, smiling. The speaker was the children's mother, Victoria Houston, whose clergyman-husband had officiated at the wedding in conjunction with the elderly parish priest resident at St. Margaret's. Only their fellow Huntsmen would have been aware that Father Christopher had added one or two special touches of his own to ensure that Peregrine and Julia's marriage received not only the blessings of the Church, but also the benisons of the Inner Planes.
"I would also say that the girls have earned their sport with Uncle Peregrine," Adam added. "They were perfect little ladies for the ceremony, utter models of decorum."
"Goodness, don't say that!" Victoria said in mock alarm. "The next thing you know, they'll be trying to climb the wedding cake!"
"Those little cherubs?" Adam said with a droll grin.
"Well, the early indoctrination might hold," Victoria allowed. "Years of sitting still in church and watching Daddy parade around in fancy dress helps. Actually, they can't wait until they're old enough to be in the choir, so they can wear those flashy red cassocks and little white ruffs!"