Chapter Seven

The next morning Katie received word from Meggie that the MacNeil wanted to travel to various tenants to visit with them and see how they’d been getting on with no laird this past year. He hoped to assess whatever needs they had before he left for Argyll. She was to accompany him to be introduced and take notes.

After last night’s disaster with wee Agnes’s goat, Myrtle, and the trouble she had getting it out of the castle and into the stable, along with Agnes’s wails, she was happy the laird had not thrown the lot of them out of the house.

The laird.

Evan MacNeil was never far from her thoughts. Everything about the man spoke of power and control. She was quite certain he was used to instant obedience and did not countenance someone who would naysay him.

If only she didn’t suffer such strange feelings when he was near her. It was as if she had suddenly been taken over by an illness that caused her stomach to tingle, her heart to pound, and suddenly she noticed parts of her body she usually ignored.

When his deep-green eyes—the color of the hills of Scotland—bored into her, her clothes were much too bothersome, and much too tight. She did not suffer so with Alasdair. He was open and friendly and didn’t make her feel as though an ague had settled in her chest.

MacNeil and his brother were busy consuming a huge breakfast when she arrived at the dining table in the Great Hall. She had a hearty appetite, and her full form could attest to that, but she was still amazed at how much food the brothers could consume in one sitting.

“Guid mornin’,” both men said as she joined them at the table.

“Are ye ready for our trip to the tenants?” MacNeil asked. “I’m anxious to see that all is well before I leave for Argyll.”

Truth be known, Katie was a bit torn about MacNeil’s departure. She wanted him gone so she could reclaim control over her traitorous body, but as much as she had wanted to take possession and control of the MacDuff lands, she was nervous about running it all herself. ’Twas hard enough when her da had succumbed to grief and left her to deal with all the problems, but this estate was much bigger and appeared much more successful.

’Twas what had brought her in the first place, but the challenges here would be vastly different. And it would be her job to keep it prosperous.

She filled her plate, and they ate in silence. After a few minutes, the MacNeil and Alasdair began a debate about some issue with their own holdings. She switched her mind off their conversation and wondered whether she’d made a mistake in accepting the laird’s offer of employment.

’Twas one thing to be in charge of her own estate, where she handled whatever problems arose from her decisions, but to be accountable to someone with the force of Laird MacNeil caused her some anxiety.

“I assume there will be no more goats in the castle, Mistress?” MacNeil asked, breaking into her thoughts before taking a gulp of coffee. He wiped his mouth and shoved his empty plate away.

“Nay, Laird. Myrtle is settled in the stable. I checked with the wee one this morning. She is feeling much better and understands her pet cannot stay in the castle.”

“Who the devil is Myrtle?” MacNeil looked confused. “I thought the wee lass was Agnes, and why would she be sleeping in the stables?”

“Her goat, brother. Dinnae ye remember the maid told us that when she first dragged the animal out of the library? The pet’s name was Myrtle.” Alasdair winked in Katie’s direction, which seemed to annoy the laird. Perhaps he did not want friendship between her and his brother.

“’Tis a dumb name for a goat. In fact, goats dinnae have names. They are just ‘the goat.’” MacNeil’s grumbling brought an even bigger smile to his brother’s face, which led Katie to smile back at him.

“If ye are both finished grinning like fools at each other, do ye think we might get to work?” Yes, the MacNeil was annoyed with any signs of friendship between her and Alasdair. He stood and waved at Katie’s plate. “Once ye finish up, find me in the library. ’Tis past time for us to set out.”

Katie watched him storm from the room. “Is yer brother always in such a foul mood?”

“Nay. He is the easiest-going mon I ken. In fact, he always has the lasses trailing behind him, batting their eyelashes, and showing off to gain his attention.” Alasdair studied the doorway that the laird had just passed through. “I’ve never seen him so abrupt.”

Katie shrugged. “Mayhaps I bring out the worst in him. Or he is still annoyed that I showed up with my document to prove I own MacDuff.”

“Ye dinnae own MacDuff, lass.” Alasdair’s words cut her, even though they were spoken softly. She hadn’t given up on owning it but didn’t want to incur the MacNeil’s displeasure and be tossed out before he left. She’d have nowhere to go then, since her own home had been bad enough when she’d left, but after her absence it would have only gotten worse.

She raised her chin, still determined to see it through. “I am not so sure ye are correct. I will write to the local magistrate to see how I can go about claiming it.”

Alasdair shrugged. “Whatever ye feel ye need to do. But thwarting my brother will not put you in his good graces, and right now it appears ye need to be there.”

Of course he was right. If the MacNeil grew angry with her, out the door she would go. ’Twas probably best to keep her plans to herself. She finished her breakfast and joined the laird in the library.

“I have a list of the tenants here.” He waved a piece of paper around. “I want ye to cross off each one as we visit it. I hope to have this finished in a matter of days.”

“Aye.” She took the paper from his hand, and a pencil, which Katie had heard of but had never seen before. She’d found it in the old laird’s desk when she’d been rummaging in there for writing supplies.

The laird rounded the desk and led her to the entrance hall. Again she had to practically run to keep up with him. This would not do. “Laird, may I ask ye to slow down a bit? My legs are not as long as yers.”

He came to an abrupt halt, and she plowed into his back. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

He shook his head and continued on, but this time at a slower pace. “When we visit these cottages, I want ye to talk with the mistress and find out her thoughts about the clan, her cottage, and their future. If the wife wants to abandon the land and move, chances are the husband will go along with her. Wives can be quite demanding.”

“Is that so?” She allowed him to help her onto a horse, one of two that stood at the ready in front of the stables.

“Aye.” With no further explanation for his words, MacNeil swung his leg over the other horse’s back and gripped the reins. Turning to her, he said, “Are ye ready?”

She nodded and followed him as he trotted out the gates. After they’d ridden over the keep grounds, they cantered up a small hill.

The village of MacDuff lay before them. She could see the sparkling water of Banff Bay, which faced the village of Banff across the estuary of the River Deveron. ’Twas an idyllic scene, with the green grass against the blue sky and deeper-blue water.

The MacNeil brought his horse to a halt and gazed out over the land. “’Tis a sight to see, aye, lass?” His softly spoken words, combined with the view before them, sent chills up and down her body.

“Aye. ’Tis beautiful. I can see why the MacDuffs worked so hard to keep their clan together.” She smiled at the sight before her. “I loved Stirlingshire, and the views to be had there also. There are hills and lochs, of course, and if one stood at Ben Lomond and looked north across Loch Lomond, ’tis a lovely sight.” She turned to him. “’Twas one of my favorite places to just sit and be at peace. I think Scotland is truly the work of God.”

“I agree, lass. ’Tis nowhere else I want to live.” The softness in his face moved her. He could be quite nice when he wasn’t glowering at her.

“I always thought so myself. That’s why the Sassenachs and their Clearances have angered me so much. ’Twas not all the men killed at Culloden and the bloodshed enough to satisfy them?” She didn’t realize how her voice had risen until she noticed the MacNeil looking at her with raised brows.

“Sorry, my laird, but I feel quite passionate about it.”

“So it appears. I cannot fault ye, lass, since I feel the same way. ’Tis no other way to feel if ye have any Scottish blood in yer veins.” MacNeil kicked his horse’s sides, and they took off once again.

They stopped in front of the first cottage. MacNeil nodded to the paper in her hand. “’Tis Jamie MacDuff’s house. The ledgers from the old laird’s library note that besides Mr. MacDuff, there is a Mrs. MacDuff and three wee ones. Mr. MacDuff works the land and also does woodworking on the side.”

Katie had to admit she was quite impressed with Laird Evan MacNeil. ’Twas no wonder his own clan had survived the hard times and had prospered. His confidence in hiring her to oversee the estate flattered her even more. Hopefully, she would not let him down.

“Guid mornin’, my laird,” Mr. MacDuff greeted them as they walked up the pathway to the tidy white-washed house.

“Guid mornin’ to ye and yer family as well.” MacNeil held out his hand. “I am Laird Evan MacNeil of Argyll. I am the new owner of the MacDuff estate and am verra glad to make yer acquaintance.”

He turned to Katie. “This is Mistress Stirling. She will be acting as land steward in my absence.”

Mr. MacDuff looked startled at the two of them. “Ye will not be staying, then, laird?”

“Nay. I must see to my own clan. I will be leaving in a few weeks, with Mistress Stirling in charge.”

Mr. MacDuff scratched his head. “She’s a woman.”

“Aye.” There didn’t seem to be much more for the MacNeil to say, since that fact was an obvious one.

The man shook his head and pulled forward a woman who stood behind him. “This is my wife, Leanna.”

The woman appeared not much older than Katie but had the worn look of someone who dealt with young children all day. Said young children spilled from the cottage. The eldest, a boy about six years, followed by a lass of about four and a wee lad of about two toddled after them.

“These are our children.” Mr. MacDuff touched the head of each one. “Blaine, Rose, and Adam.”

The little girl he’d introduced as Rose held a squirming kitten in her arms. She walked up to them and held the animal out to Katie. “This is for ye, my lady.”

The sweet little thing was as black as night, with eyes so blue, they matched the sky. “Nay, thank ye anyway,” MacNeil said at the same time as Katie said, “Thank ye. I will take good care of it.”

He glowered at her. “We have enough pets, Mistress Stirling.”

“’Tis a gift, my laird. To me.”

“We cannot accept it, Mistress.” They stood facing each other, her spine straight, his eye beginning to twitch.

Wee Rose looked back and forth between them and burst into tears.