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AFTER THEY NOTIFIED the cook and her helper of the guests staying for supper, Meghan and Elena decided to go for a walk in the glen. They didn’t get far before Siobhan and Finalla came to talk to Elena.
Siobhan asked, “Is it true? Are we to expect twenty more Ferguson warriors?”
Elena touched Siobhan’s arm, smiled and softly answered. “We best be grateful they are, for we may well need them.”
Finalla’s eyes were wide. “Is there to be a clan war? We have never seen one in our lifetime.”
“I pray not,” said Elena. “This is Mistress Ferguson.”
Both women gave their guest a hasty curtsey, but their attention quickly turned back to Elena. Siobhan said, “If Seona were gone, we would not need the Fergusons to help us.”
“I quite agree, but you know very well Michael shall let no harm come to any lass – even Seona.”
Siobhan hung her head. “I know, but the Fergusons...”
“Are my people,” Elena interrupted. “I was married to a Ferguson, and I shall be very pleased if you see they are well fed, and enjoy themselves while they are here.”
“You are a Ferguson?” Ursula asked.
“Aye. Mistress Ferguson is my sister-in-law.”
“Does Michael know?” Siobhan asked.
“He does,” Meghan answered. “I have just now told him.”
Siobhan’s eyes lit up. “Does Kester know? Just once, I would like to know somethin’ Kester does not.”
Meghan giggled. “I suspect not, for I have yet to meet your Kester.”
“You shall adore her, I assure you,” said Elena. “As to the Ferguson guards, shall you see that they are made welcome?” Finalla’s nod was a while in coming, but at last, it appeared Elena was going to have her way.
“If it pleases you,” said Siobhan. With that, the two of them went off to be the first to tell the news about Elena.
As soon as they were gone, Elena and Meghan walked to the edge of the village and then into the glen. They were greeted by a slight breeze and the sweet smell of pine trees. Both watched as a flock of blackbirds flew from one side of the glen to the other and landed in the trees behind the graveyard.
“If it pleases you?” Meghan repeated with a glint in her eye. “It appears they regard you as they would their mistress. Per chance have you caught Michael’s eye?”
“My dear sister-in-law, what the clan wishes may not be what is truly at hand.”
“I see, he has not yet asked you. Would you like me to do a bit of proddin’?”
Elena shook her head. “‘Tis the last thing I would like you to do.”
“You are not happy here?”
“The MacGreagors are wonderful people, but Seona...”
“Ah, I begin to see the problem. Michael fancies her?”
“Nay...not where others can see, but I suspect...”
Meghan abruptly stopped walking and took hold of Elena’s arm. “Of what do you accuse him?”
“Seona claims he fathered her child.”
Meghan’s mouth dropped. “She accused him?”
“Aye.”
“What did Michael say?”
Elena looked away. “He was not there.”
Meghan’s surprise soon turned to hesitation. “I doubt she has said an honest thing in her whole life. Why do you believe her?”
“Because I was witness to it. Late at night, I saw him go to his bedchamber and after he closed his door, Seona closed hers.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Michael wore no shirt or shoes.”
“Oh dear.”
“Another time, Seona burst into his bedchamber expectin’ to meet Michael there. One of the maids was witness to that and told the whole clan.”
In thoughtful silence, they continued to walk and as they passed, Meghan nodded to the Ferguson guards watching her. In response, the guards spread out and encircled the two women, keeping close enough to protect them, yet not close enough to overhear. “Have you asked Michael about it?”
“Not yet.”
Meghan leaned down, picked a wildflower, and brought it to her nose and smelled the sweet aroma of it. “You love Michael?”
“I dinna think I could ever love another, but I do love Michael and I believed he loved me. That was before, of course.”
“All men are tempted, but I cannae believe Michael finds her pleasin’. He did not appear to care for her at all just now.”
“‘Tis how he always responds to her when others are near, but I cannae disregard what I saw.”
“No wonder you are so uncertain. Did Michael not say there are others who might be the child’s father?”
“First there is Owen, but before I tell you about that, I must tell you about Lindsey.” Elena stopped walking, sat in the grass and began. “Lindsey was...” When Elena was finished, Meghan bowed her head. “What a sad, sad story. I believe I hate Seona now too.”
“Seona pretends not to know what she has done, and Murran and Owen have shunned her. Poor Rory found the loss of Lindsey especially painful, as did we all, and Kester’s rage does not subside. I sometimes...”
*
THEY WERE PROUD MEN, proud of their laird, their heritage, and proud to be Fergusons. It showed in the way they sat erect, and slowly walked their horses up the road and into the MacGreagor glen. Only two across at first, the third and fourth riders moved up until they were four across. The four became six, and so on, until the Ferguson warriors formed a single line that stretched nearly all the way across the width of the glen.
It was a grand display and their mistress was very pleased, but behind her the MacGreagors were not. Little by little, the clan came to the edge of the village, faced the Fergusons, and waited. As Meghan and Elena got up, the guards on foot moved away from their mistress, the line of warriors halted and at their leaders signal, dismounted in unison.
“Watch Adam,” Meghan whispered to Elena, “he has been practicin’.”
Each Ferguson moved to stand in front of his horse, and when all were lined up, they bowed to their Mistress. Adam walked forward and just as he did, his horse did the same. A man on the end leaned around the others, and whistled, which caused Adam to stop and slowly look back. Perturbed, he turned around held both his arms out palms up and as he walked back, the horse got back in line.
“STAY!” Adam shouted.
The horse nodded, the man on the end got back in position, and Adam tried again. This time, he took one giant step forward and then another...and so did his horse.
The MacGreagors roared with laughter.
Adam shrugged, crossed his feet at the ankle, and sat down. Everyone expected the horse to mimic him, but it did not. Instead, it backed up again. This time, it turned its head to the left, as if to see if it was properly lined up, and then looked right. Apparently it was not, so it backed up another step – and then sat down.
This time the MacGreagors cheered and applauded. The Ferguson warriors bowed to the crowd, abruptly left their horses, and went to greet Elena. “We heard you were here,” Adam said. “Where might Samuel be? I have...” When he looked up, Laird Ferguson was walking toward them with Samuel perched on his shoulder. With so much to talk to Elena about the Fergusons completely ignored the MacGreagors.
“Twenty six Ferguson’s in the glen. Never thought I would see this day,” Elder Diarmad muttered as he stood between the gawking Murran and Owen.
“Nor I,” said Murran.
“Yet, if Elena fancies them, they cannae be all bad,” said Diarmad.
“You have not yet heard?” Murran asked.
“Heard what?” Diarmad wanted to know.
“Elena married a Ferguson.”
Diarmad thoughtfully stroked his beard for a moment. “‘Tis better than to wed an English.”
The frown on Owen’s face implied he agreed, but then, no one hated the English more than Owen. “Fergusons have very fine swords.”
“Perhaps they shall let us see them,” Murran said as he started toward the Fergusons. When he did, other MacGreagor warriors came to look too. Still, there were those who remained standoffish, regarded the occasion as just an unnecessary distraction, and went back to what they were doing.
*
WHEN HE ESCORTED HIS guests to the dining hall, Michael was impressed by the dishes his cook managed to produce on such short notice. The smell of fresh baked bread had filled the castle for at least an hour, so he was not surprised to find ample small loaves. He was surprised, however, to see two of his men acting as servers eager to impress their laird’s guests. Michael was not fooled. They were there to listen and report back to the clan. Of course, with Kester there, the clan would know soon enough anyway, so he did not send them away.
The servers brought platters of roasted pheasant seasoned with rosemary, parsley and thyme, beef, and bowls of boiled cabbage and leeks topped with peppercorn, salt, and onion. Kale with beetroot added color to the meal, and for dessert, there was baked apples in a square pottery dish steeped in honey, cinnamon, and nutmeg. As soon as the men stood back, Michael nodded his appreciation and approval.
“The children?” Michael asked Elena as Swinton helped seat her between himself and her brother.
“They have already eaten,” she answered.
Lately, Kester refused to sit at the same table as Seona, but this was a special occasion, so she came. As she normally did these days, Kester sat at Michael’s right hand at the supper table with birdie sitting up between them, waiting for a morsel or two. Meghan Ferguson sat beside Kester, and more than once Kester examined the woman’s beauty. Still, she never said a word until Seona finally graced them with an appearance. “Mistress Ferguson,” Kester began, “You are right dead bonnie – the most bonnie lass I ever did see.” She watched for Seona’s look of revulsion and soon enough, she got it. “Not,” Kester continued, “as bonnie as me, but not many are, you know.”
Meghan giggled and played along, “I do know and you greatly flatter me.”
“That one,” Kester tried, pointing her crooked finger at Seona, “be...”
Michael quickly put his hand on Kester’s arm. “I remind you we have guests.” Kester bit her lower lip, looked at him sheepishly, and then nodded as if she just now realized. Nonetheless, Michael was on to her, which caused him to raise an eyebrow.
Holding the bowl of cabbage while Elena helped herself, Swinton asked, “Laird MacGreagor, would you like me to send for more Swintons?”
“You live not very far away and I find twelve to be sufficient for now,” Michael answered, as he handed a bowl of mutton to Swinton.
“Twelve?”
“Aye, the ten you brought and the two watchin’ us from the forest.”
Swinton chuckled. “Perhaps I forgot for a time how well you keep your clan guarded.”
Michael smiled. “Normally, you would have gotten away with it, but as soon as Laird Ferguson told me of the plot, I sent more lads into the woods.”
“Where did you hear of this plot?” Swinton asked Ferguson.
“Yesterday in Edinburgh.”
“And did you see the king while you were there?”
“I did. ”Ferguson answered. “If you have not already heard, the king has given permission to take back the southern lands stolen by the English.”
“By force?” Michael asked.
Swinton nodded.
Laird Ferguson approved too. “I am pleased to hear it. ‘Tis Ferguson land they took, which is why we were forced north.”
“You would go back?” Meghan asked her husband.
He winked at her. “Only if you agree to go with me.”
“How charmin’,” Seona mocked as she rolled her eyes.
Swinton found no reason to acknowledge her insult. “And the King, is he well?” he asked Ferguson.
“As well as a lad his age can be, I suppose. He is nearly fifty-five and well past his best. I dinna imagine he thought he would ever be king. But then, no one expected King David to die so suddenly.”
“Have you met him?” Kester asked Meghan. “I hear he has the reddest of hair and curly too. Does he wear his crown daily, and...”
Meghan put her hand over Kester’s. “My dear, you have no idea of the splendor our new king and his queen bring to Scotland. Aye, he wears a crown and both wear robes of a different color for every occasion. I quite admire the Queen’s gowns.”
“And the queen – is she handsome?” Kester wanted to know.
“Very.”
“She is his second wife, you are aware,” Seona muttered.
“I am certain everyone knows that,” Meghan said.
“The first was Elizabeth Mure, whom he married twice,” Seona went on anyway. “Father suspected the king dinna get sufficient dispensation from the Pope the first time and was advised to marry her again. ‘Twas quite the scandal, but how else was the king to claim his children after livin’ so openly with a lass not his wife.” Seona stopped to take a bite. She saw not the irony of her situation compared to the king’s, and was surprised by the silence in the room after she stopped talking. “What?”
Laird Ferguson found no reason to acknowledge her either. “Unfortunately, the king means to halt trade with the English.”
“By what reasonin’ does he do that?” Michael asked.
“He intends to trade with the French instead,” Ferguson answered.
Seona dropped her spoon in her bowl. “So that is why my father tried to marry me to the Marquis. I should have guessed.”
Again, everyone ignored her.
“You were tellin’ of the Queen,” Kester said to Meghan.
“Indeed I was. Never have I imagined such glorious gowns and the jewels she wears are simply magnificent. She has seven ladies-in-waitin’ that see to her every detail, and I dare say, it takes three of them just to care for her gowns. From what I hear, our queen is far more elegant than the queen of England ever could be.”
“I have been meanin’ to come see you,” Michael said to Swinton once the conversation appeared to be ended between Kester and Meghan. “Our lads think to build a shop on the road that leads to Edinburgh.”
“What sort of shop?”
“‘Tis to save ourselves the trouble of takin’ our wares to market. The lads shall have pens for piglets and lambs and inside fruits and vegetables in season, together with wares such as leather belts and forks to barter or sell. While it shall be on MacGreagor land, I see no reason your lads cannae sell there as well.”
“You mean to let us have a space there? At what price?”
Michael nodded. “We have yet to make out the details. The shop is only just begun, but I see no reason we cannae bicker the price when the time comes.”
“Very well, I shall ask if my lads are interested. There are advantages to sellin’ in a market full of buyers, you are aware.”
“Aye, but ‘tis only once a week,” said Ferguson. “I too can see the need for a shop that sells all week through.”
“When shall it be finished?” Swinton asked.
Michael chuckled. “‘Tis a matter of agreein’ how to build it, and so far the lads have yet to do so. Meanwhile, they build a bridge over the river.”
Kester had a new reason to glare at Seona. “It shall be called Lindsey’s Bridge.”
Seona picked her spoon back up and directed her response to Laird Ferguson. “I am accused of all manner of witchery, you see, none of which is true. Now, if you were to ask if I have been treated well durin’ my stay, I should have to say quite the opposite. The lady-in-waitin’ I have been given knows not how to do a thing properly. She...”
“My dear Seona,” Balric interrupted. “I’ll not have you belittle Beitris. Never have I met a more agreeable lass. Not once does she complain and from what I have seen, you give her ample cause to.”
“There, you see,” Seona said pleading her case to Swinton. “Even in seein’ to my comfort they side against me.”
“On this cause, I must take Seona’s side,” Elena surprisingly said. “Without Beitris’ help, which she refused to give this day complete, Seona’s hair does look a fright.”
Seona stared at her opponent for a moment and then cast her eyes down in defeat. “How glad I shall be to leave this place.”
“You are free to go whenever you wish,” said Michael.
“Go where?” Seona asked with what appeared to be real tears in her eyes. “I cannae go home, and I have no place other to be until Osgar comes for me – if he ever does.”
Before Seona spoiled their meal completely, Balric thought to change the subject. “I must go to town in search of more parchment tomorrow. Would anyone care to go with me?”
“I would,” said Seona, “if you pledge to bring me back.”
“In your case,” said Balric, “I must rescind the offer. Of course, if you wish me to take you home, I shall be more than pleased to accept the reward...if there truly is a reward, and not simply the meat of a foul rumor.”
Seona wiped a tear off her cheek and then tried to smile at Balric, whom she considered the only one at all kind to her. “Aye, well ‘twould not be the first time my father has made an offer with no intention of upholdin’ it. He owes considerable compensation to Osgar still.”
“You seem to know a great deal about Osgar,” said Balric.
“He befriended my brother and I when we had not a friend, nor not even an acquaintance, in the world.”
“After your mother, the lass that should have married me, died?” Swinton grumbled.
Seona looked Swinton in the eye. “Mother said you should have fought harder to have her.”
“She got precisely what she wanted,” Swinton shot back, “which was to marry the unspeakable wealth your father bragged of. Not once did she consider the price she would have to pay for it, nor I see, have you.”
“What do you mean?” Seona asked.
“You and your brother conspire to kill your father so you may enjoy his wealth. Foolishly, you dinna see how easily you would be found out. What then would be your reward – a hangin’ perhaps, or a burnin’ at the stake?”
It was Seona’s turn to gasp. “We would not have been found out save for you.”
“And Osgar, for it was he who told me,” Swinton reminded her.
Seona blinked a few times, shoved her plate away, got up, and left the room in another flood of tears.
*
OUTSIDE, THE FEAST for their guests was a mishmash of dishes, hurriedly cooked, and laid out on tables for the enjoyment of the Ferguson and Swinton guards. The Swintons they liked, the Fergusons they were not yet sure of, but if it pleased Elena, they intended to try to like them. Naturally, there was a great deal of gossip to be had and the Fergusons had as much right to know what would likely happen as did the Swintons. At first, the MacGreagors told the Swintons and the Swintons told the Fergusons, but that soon proved laborious, and the three began to gather in small groups, each sharing what they knew about the Kennedys and the MacKintosh. Then, of course, there were stories to tell about Laird Dalldon and the heavy-handed manner in which he ruled his lands.
Standing on the castle wall, the three lairds watched.
Aye,” said Michael, “if need be they shall fight well together.”
“Unless they are too drunk,” Ferguson added.
Swinton chuckled. “I hear a battle suffers a drunken lad to quickly recover his wits.”
Ferguson chuckled. “It would me.”
“Hopefully, we shall not have to find out firsthand,” Michael muttered.
Finished with their meal, the people in the courtyard below began to clear away the leftover food and take the tables away. Michael laughed when a clumsy dog began to chase a cunning cat that was well versed in all the best hiding places. Each time the cat managed to scurry under something, the dog lay down daring the cat to come back out.
Once the tables were out of the way, three MacGreagor musicians brought their instruments and took up positions near the wall of the castle. The first placed his Rebec, a boat-shaped, two-string instrument on his forearm, and drew his bow across the strings to signal the beginning of Highland Fling. Soon, the flute player joined in, and the man with the tympanum added the beat of his drum.
Thrilled with the selection, the MacGreagor men began to line up facing the crowd and for a moment, it appeared the other two clansmen would not join in. Yet, when the Swintons took up position facing the MacGreagors, the Fergusons happily joined their line. A dance of skill and agility, the Highland Fling required one hand in the air, the other on a hip, and hopping on alternating feet and landing within a small imaginary circle.
Women were always allowed to join in. However on this occasion, what began as a friendly dance among men, appeared to be turning into something approaching a contest. The dancing went on and on, feet hopped, kilts bouncing, and the musicians might have stopped, but they too wanted to see which side would win. Yet, these were all well trained warriors who might possibly not give up for the better part of an hour. At the Rebec player’s nod, the drummer sped up his beat, the other musicians followed and soon, exhausted men began to fall away. At length, only four were left, two MacGreagors, a Ferguson and a Swinton. One MacGreagor began to hold his side as the drummer again increased the beat and he too fell away. Then there were only three.
Still watching from atop the castle wall, Swinton clasped his hands together, “Care to place a wager, lads?”
“Aye,” said Michael and Ferguson at the same time.
“The loser hosts the next feast,” Swinton said. Not truly that interested in the outcome, Swinton turned his back to the fun below. “I must say I am quite relieved not to have to kill Dalldon. ‘Twas a foolhardy bargain I struck in a moment of weakness. I shall not let it happen again.” He quickly turned back when a great cheer rose up from the dancing below. The first of the three to fall out of the competition was the Ferguson. Not a moment later, and at nearly the same moment, the MacGreagor and then the Swinton gave up and crumbled to the ground, each gasping to catch their breaths. To that, the crowd moaned.
“Incredible,” said Swinton, “my lad outlasted a MacGreagor.”
“Aye, and sadly I lost the wager,” Ferguson added.
Exhausted, the musicians took a few moments to fortify themselves with a hardy drink of ale while the men helped the last three dancers up.
“I say we host the next together,” said Michael, playfully slapping Swinton on the back. He turned and started for the stairs. “Come lads, we must have our share in the dancing.”
*
FERGUSON FOUND MEGHAN still talking to Elena in the dining hall, and took her hand. “Come with me wife.”
Meghan giggled and kissed his cheek. “I was hopin’ you might ask Elena.”
“Why did I not think of that?” said he. Ferguson let go of his wife’s hand and instead held his out to Elena. Before she took it, he turned back to his wife. “And who might you wish to dance with?”
“I accept,” said Michael.
“As do I,” said Swinton.
Meghan giggled and headed out the door. “I shall be pleased to dance both of them under.”
Elena took Ferguson’s hand, and glanced back at the other two. “She can do it too.”
Just as Michael was about to leave, Beitris came in carrying Brenna. He took the child from Beitris, and felt Brenna’s forehead. “Are you well?”
“Aye,” she said with a hint of a pout, “but my arm still hurts.”
“Have you given your cat a name?” he asked to distract her.
“I shall call him Towser, if you please.”
“I do please. ‘Tis a very good name for a cat. Shall I take you to see the dancing?”
Brenna’s pout immediately disappeared. “Aye, but I dinna know how to dance.”
“‘Tis time you learn.” When Michael followed Swinton out the door and across the inner courtyard, there was an odd silence outside. Concerned, Michael went out the door, but remained on the top step where Elena also stood. No one seemed able to move. “What is it?” Michael whispered.
Elena reached for her daughter. “I know not.”
Michael stepped down and made his way through the crowed. To his horror, a MacGreagor had pulled his sword and stood in front of his daughter as if to protect her from the Ferguson.
“I mean her no harm,” the Ferguson loudly protested.
Michael was about to interfere when Laird Ferguson said, “Let them settle it. ‘Tis time.”
Michael wasn’t so sure that was a good idea, but he stayed out of it just the same. The young MacGreagor woman, being shielded by her father, had other ideas. She thought the Ferguson handsome, walked around her father, took his hand, and pulled the Ferguson to the middle of the courtyard.
Kester bellowed out, “‘Tis she who means to harm the Ferguson.”
Everyone laughed and that settled it.
This time, the musicians chose to play a Scottish reel, a slower, and more formal Strathspey dance that involved couples dancing in unison, often with two and then four. Delighted children shoved their faces where they could between the adult’s lower torsos, or begged to be perched high on broad shoulders so they could see. Swinton bowed to Meghan’s curtsey and together they joined the other couples.
When Michael looked for Elena, Brenna had fallen fast asleep in her mother’s arms and the two of them were surrounded by Ferguson warriors, all wanting Elena to dance with them. Adam Ferguson relieved Elena of Brenna, and when she took the first Ferguson’s hand, Elena looked happier than Michael had seen her look in days. Unfortunately, her smile was still not for him. When Laird Ferguson handed him a goblet of ale, Michael drank it right down.
Standing at the edge of the courtyard, Beitris tapped her foot to the music and clapped her hands. She had not noticed Balric coming, and when he put his hand on her hands to stop her, she assumed something was wrong.
Said he, “I am in need of your company.”
“What?” she asked.
Balric sighed and leaned closer to her ear. “I have said that quite badly. What I mean is, I must go to Edinburgh tomorrow, and I am hopin’ you shall go with me.”
“Whatever for?”
“For your good company, of course.” Her blank stare caused him to pause. For a time, he could think of nothing more to say. “Surely you dinna think I...”
“I thought nothin’,” she interrupted. “But I cannae. I have much to do and we have yet another two guests to tend in the castle.”
“Ah yes, I forgot about your duties. Another time, then?” She smiled to assure him she was not offended, and he was so relieved, he quickly wandered off. “I am not suited for this sort of thing,” he muttered.
“What sort of thing?” Kester asked suddenly standing beside him. For once, Birdie was not at her feet. Instead, she left the dog in a safe place where no one would step on him.
“My dear, I had not the slightest notion you could hear me,” Balric admitted.
“I’ve the ears of an Eagle, always have had. Perhaps you might find a place for me to sit, since your attention is the only one I have managed to gain at the moment. He nodded, hurried off, and soon brought back a chair. He held it while she backed up and sat, and then went to get one for himself.
As soon as he got seated, Kester asked, “Now, to what are you not well suited?”
Balric took a deep breath and did his best to explain without blurting out his marriage intentions. Kester, he noticed, was not willing to accept his reasoning at face value and simply smiled and nodded. “Perhaps you might take it a bit more slowly, is all. Beitris is a good lass, but she is not used to the ways of love.”
“More slowly? I suppose you must be right. Indeed, I must take it more slowly. How?”
Kester grinned. “Perhaps a walk in the glen when all this foolishness is behind us?”
“Ah, I see.”
“I thought you might.”
*
AS THE SUNSET BEGAN to fade, the MacGreagors lit torches and put them in holders around the edge of the courtyard. There were whispers among both the Fergusons and the MacGreagors, for Michael had yet to take his eyes off the laughing Elena, as she danced with first one, then another and another Ferguson. Exhausted, when the next Ferguson attempted to cut in, Elena held up her hand and begged to rest.
Michael saw the disaster coming but try as he might, he could not move fast enough to prevent it. The cat finally came out of hiding and the dog was not about to let it escape this time. Unfortunately, just as Elena began to turn around, the cat scurried past and in an attempt to avoid injuring the dog, Elena lost her balance and fell to the hard ground.
A woman cried out, the music stopped and the dancers froze in place.
Embarrassed, Elena quickly turned over and started to sit up. At the same moment, Michael knelt beside her and put his hand on her back. Upset, she laid her head on his shoulder and bit back a tear. It was not the perfect reason to be in his arms, but his touch made her close her eyes for a moment. Suddenly aware that everyone was standing over her, she straightened up. “I am fine,” she managed to say. “Can you not help me up?”
He tried not to be alarmed, but the look in his eyes betrayed his concern. “Careful, lads,” he said as he nodded to three men. Strong arms from in front and behind soon had her standing, and each held on until they were certain she was not hurt and had her balance.
“Dinna fuss so,” she said as she looked to see who helped. “I thank you, but you need not look so concerned. I am not hurt.” Her hand was still in his when she whispered, “Tell them to dance, Michael.” He nodded to the musicians, the dancers went back to dancing, and someone brought a chair for her to sit on.
“Are you certain you are not hurt?” Michael asked as he helped her sit.
She motioned for him to lean toward her and whispered, “If I am, Laird MacGreagor, ‘tis a place you are not allowed to look.” When he pulled back, she playfully rubbed her thigh.
Michael chuckled. She was back to being friendly, and he was relieved. “Did you not hear what your brother said? Beitris never complains.”
She returned his delighted smile. “Aye, and he was seen speakin’ to her just now. Perhaps you shall become a great matchmaker after all.”
It was the first real smile he had gotten from her in days. “With your help, hopefully.”
Her smile instantly faded and she looked away.
“What is it?” he asked. “Why do you...”
*
JUST THEN, A MACGREAGOR warrior approached and whispered in Michael’s ear. “How many?” he asked.
“Two.”
He noticed Laird Ferguson watching him and nodded. “Capture them both and bring them hither.” The guard nodded, and then headed back into the forest, while Michael motioned for both Laird Ferguson and Laird Swinton to come. When they arrived, he said, “Two MacKintosh spies in the woods.”
“‘Tis true, then, they mean to attack,” said Swinton.
Elena looked up at the windows of the castle. Seona stood in her bedchamber window, but as soon as she noticed Elena watching her, she moved away.
Before he left, Michael again asked Elena, “Are you certain you are not hurt?”
“Quite certain.” She watched the man she loved make his way through the crowd and then put her hand on her painful knee.
“What is happenin’?” Meghan asked drawing near. When she noticed her friend rubbing her knee, she said, “Better yet, how badly are you hurt?”
“Meghan, stand in front of me and I shall look.” As soon as her sister-in-law was in position, Elena raised her skirt, quickly examined her knee, and put her skirt back down. It was not skinned, but there would be a bruise. She took Meghan’s hand, slowly stood up, and decided she was not that badly injured.
In the glen, the three lairds stood in the moonlight and waited while two MacGreagor guards brought the MacKintosh spies and their horses out of the forest.
Elena pointed. “That is what is happenin’.”
Meghan turned to look and then caught her breath. “MacKintosh.”
“Aye,” Elena breathed.
*
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN TO do with them?” Ferguson asked Michael.
“Send them home unarmed,” Swinton suggested. “‘Twill be a good lesson for the MacKintosh.”
“‘Tis better to shame them than holdin’ them captive,” Ferguson agreed.
“Very well,” said Michael. “I shall have your weapons, lads, and then be off with you.” He waited as the spies reluctantly handed over their daggers and their swords. And then with haste, they ran to their horses, mounted, rode down the glen and disappeared into the darkness.
“Well, it appears you shall need my help too on the morrow,” said Swinton as he signaled for his men to prepare to go home. “How many lads should I bring?”
Michael paused before he answered. “How many will it take to give the Kennedys and the MacKintosh pause to reconsider?”
Swinton chuckled. “None but a handful would frighten the MacKintosh, for they are a small clan. The Kennedys are good fighters and are frightened of very little. I shall send my spies to watch the Kennedys. That will give us some warnin’, at least.”
“Agreed,” said Michael.
Behind Michael, the clan had once more quieted, but as he and Laird Ferguson started to walk back toward them, the luscious tenor voice of a Ferguson few had paid much attention to, began to fill the stillness with a beloved Gaelic ballad. Soon, other’s joined until the glen filled with the sounds. Two MacGreagor warriors held two torches and lit the way into the glen so the Fergusons could make their beds in the tall grass. Other MacGreagors held torches to light the way down the various paths to see that all the MacGreagors found their way home, while the inhabitants of the castle wished everyone a good night and went inside.
The last to go in, Michael knew not why, but before he walked through the outer door, something made him look. At the end of the path where Lindsey’s cottage once was, stood the black stallion watching him. He wrinkled his brow, knew he should see to his guests first, but the horse might be gone when he came back. Cautiously, he walked down the path to the magnificent beast. As it had before, the horse let Michael pat its nose and rub its neck.
“Have you come to drink from the coolness of the river instead of the loch?” Suddenly troubled, Michael asked, “Are you hurt?” He walked all the way around the animal looking for an injury, but he found nothing. At length, he petted the horse’s long nosed again and then stepped back. “I wonder that no one owns you.” He glanced toward the castle and remembered he was ignoring his guests. Still, there was something about the horse that he found comforting, and rest for his troubled mind was just what he needed. He stayed a moment longer, and then shrugged and walked up the path. Just before he entered the castle, he glanced back.
The horse was gone.
*
KENTIGERN MANOR, 1911
“At last, a letter from Leesil,” McKenna said when Jessie handed it to her.
“While in town,” Jessie said taking off her hat. “I went to mail one of mine and discovered the post knows not how to find us. I gave the lad the directions, but ‘twould not hurt to stop by occasionally just to check.”
“Indeed not,” said Sarah as she curled up next to McKenna on the sofa.
“‘Tis from Leesil,” McKenna said as she opened the envelope, unfolded it and checked the signature.. It reads:
June 23, 1911
My dearest and most beloved family,
We were relieved to hear Alistair and everyone has arrived safely. The East Coast of America complains of a terrible storm and we feared them caught up in it. All is well in our beautiful Colorado.
We have good news here all around. Dugan and Beverly have at last settled on a name for their son. Dugan wanted to call him Augustus, for some reason he has yet to explain, and continues to call the laddie Augie above Beverly’s objections. However, she has given in and decided to accept her husband’s “silliness” so long as he agrees that Augustus should be his middle name. Therefore, his full and legal name is now David Augustus MacGreagor. I rather like it, but I say nothing. I tend to think Beverly shall come around to his way of thinking soon and shall like it as well.
Last week, the governor appointed a judge to take Nicholas’ place until another can be secured. He is an older lad, jolly, friendly and kind, yet stern in his ruling, or so everyone says. We have yet to see him in his courtroom, but he was invited, at Abigail’s insistence, to the picnic at Palmer Lake. A grand time was had by all, save for we missed each of you, my darlings.
Abigail finds that a child of Millicent’s young age, whom they adopted, a bit more overwhelming than she expected and has hired a new nanny. Her name is Hildred and I have yet to meet her. Nevertheless, Abigail finds her pleasing and now is free to drop by whenever she is of a mind to. The truth be told, we were beginning to miss Abigail’s frequent unannounced visits.
The children and their parents are all well, as are the servants, although Halen misses Jessie terribly. Blair is all a flutter over being presented to the new king summer next at her coming out. Lady Bayington has agreed to have all her clothing fashioned in Paris and altered when Blair arrives, for Blair’s mother and I have no notion as to what shall be suitable.
My dears, we hear nothing from or about the duchess, therefore I begin to believe Cameron is right – she is dead.
Butler Prescot gains more strength daily from his gunshot wound and is back to his old self. As for me, I have not had a nightmare in weeks, I am happy to report. Of those who kidnapped me, Willis has not yet been found, and of course you know what became of the other two – Earl died and Pete shall not again be a bother to society for a very long time.
Well, the latest addition to our household is awake and wanting fed, so I shall write more another time. Do write when you can, or simply call. We miss the sound of your voices.
All my love,
Leesil
Shall we not read more of the book?” McKenna asked.
“Can we, I mean should we?” Sarah asked.
“Why not? Nicholas and Alistair are way ahead of us in their copyin’.”
“Excellent idea,” said Sarah. She reached up, got the book, opened it at the marker, and began to read.
