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KENTIGERN MANOR, 1911
“We must stop reading now?” Sarah complained.
Jessie pretended to be just as put out. “If you care to eat supper, we must.”
“I do not mind missing a meal now and again, especially now,” Sarah argued.
“Aye, but children cry when they are not fed.”
“Jessie is right,” McKenna admitted. Besides, Dugan and Malveen should be here by supper time. She took the book from Sarah and put it on the shelf.
“In that case,” said Sarah getting to her feet, “I intend to take that long, hot bath I have been longing for.” She hurried up the stairs and disappeared.
*
NICHOLAS AND ALISTAIR spent hours making a copy of the first book. At last, they were finished and hurried off to see about getting it printed. As well, in the shop where Gavin worked, Nicholas found a glass case in which to preserve the remnants of Kester’s hourglass and instantly bought it. Next, they called to see what supplies Charles would soon need, and then gave Gavin the order to fill with a promise to be back the next day.
That done, it was time to go to the train station and pick up their new arrivals – Egan and Malveen. Alistair was especially eager to see a friend he had not seen in years and paced up and down on the boardwalk, until at last the train pulled into the station. Even then, Egan and Malveen were the last to get off.
“She dinna wait,” Malveen explained as she lifted the blanket off her baby’s face and showed Alistair.
Alistair stared at Egan. “You let her be born in France?”
“Had to, otherwise she would have been born in England.” Egan laughed and then slapped his old friend on the back. “Let’s dinna tell her she was born in France, shall we?”
Nicholas was more concerned with how tired Malveen looked and when he offered, she gladly gave him the baby. “I say we get Malveen home to rest.”
“Dapper idea,” Egan agreed. “‘Twas not an easy birth.”
“Dapper, is it?” Alistair grumbled. While Nicholas took Malveen to the automobile, he and Egan went to fetch their luggage.
“Shall you miss all that travelin’?” Alistair asked.
“Not in the least,” Egan answered. “Yet, I shall miss how my wife manages to delight a crowd. There are those who follow us from place to place, just to hear her play and I could not be more proud to be her husband.” He picked out three bags, handed one to Alistair and took the other two. “She is tired and with the baby, I doubt we shall see another train for months if not years. Tell me about the castle...”
*
AS SOON AS THEY GOT home, Nicholas showed Egan and his wife to a bedroom upstairs complete with a bassinet for the baby. When he came back down, the others were waiting for him.
“She looks dreadful,” McKenna said.
“Aye, she does,” Alistair agreed.
“I have never looked dreadful a day in my life,” Malveen argued. Sore from the birth, she took her time coming back down the stairs, but she wasn’t about to be treated like an invalid.
Behind her, Egan carried the baby down, bassinet and all. “My wife fears she might miss somethin’,” he said.
“Aye, like Jessie’s cookin’,” she agreed as she carefully lowered herself onto the sofa. “I am starved.”
“Well, we cannae have that,” said Jessie, who turned right around and hurried off to the kitchen.
“Have we a surprise for you,” McKenna said, giving Egan another hug. “Hidden under the castle, Charles found books containin’ old MacGreagor stories.” She spent the better part of an hour telling him all about the town, the castle and the books containing the stories, while Malveen nibbled on the cheese and apple slices Jessie brought for them all.
Nicholas got up to look in the bassinet just to see how the baby was doing. “She is truly quite beautiful, just like her mother. What have you named her?”
“What else?” Egan asked, “Melody.”
“Melody MacGreagor,” McKenna said. “How very appropriate.”
“We think so,” said Malveen. “About who might be threatenin’ to destroy the castle, I think it might be Rosslyn. Alistair, do you not remember? She ruined Cathleen’s gown and you sent her away.”
“Aye, but would she be bold enough to burn down the castle?” Alistair asked.
“She was daft enough at the time, but I know not if she still harbors resentment.”
“I do not recall seein’ her in town,” said Jessie.
McKenna nodded. “Nor do I. Perhaps she is gone.”
“Well, I mean to find out,” said Alistair. “We must put a stop to this drivel.”
“I agree,” said Egan. “Do you think Charles might need another hand? I long for hard work now that we are home.”
Nicholas nodded. “We must deliver supplies and if you come with us, you may as well ask Charles then. I doubt he will say no. He has been asking me when you were coming.”
Egan wrinkled his brow. “He still holds poker games?”
“Oh, dinna remind me,” McKenna groaned.
“Aye,” said Alistair.
“No wonder he wants me home,” said Egan. “I am the worst at poker and he knows it.”
Sitting beside Sarah. Malveen softly said, “My husband needs a break from me and my piano concerts, and I from him.”
Sarah grinned, “As all husbands and wives do.”
“And a place to live,” Malveen added.
“You are welcome to stay here as long as you like,” said McKenna.
“We thank you, but we have not had a home in a very long time. I long to set flowers on a table, and find them still there when I wake up. We normally dinna stay in one place for more than three days together.”
Nicholas thoughtfully sipped his tea and set the cup down. “Do the French fear a war with the Germans?”
“There is talk of it, but I doubt it...” he was interrupted when the telephone rang and Alistair went to answer it.
*
“AYE,” ALISTAIR SAID over the telephone. “I shall tell him. Charles, do you know what became of Rosslyn? She used to...”
“Aye,” Charles answered. “She sold sandwiches to the tourists until the duke decided to rebuild. What about her?”
“Could she be the one threatening to burn the castle down?”
Charles paused a minute to think it over. “I doubt it. She went to live with a cousin in Glasgow. Nay, she’s not the one. I’m convinced it is a lad and not a lass anyway.”
*
THAT NIGHT, EVERYONE in the Mitchell household went to bed early for Malveen’s sake, and most everyone woke up each time the baby cried.
“I have changed my mind,” Nicholas whispered. “I want no more children.”
“Too late,” McKenna said as she curled up in his arms.
He chuckled and went right back to sleep.
The next day, Charlotte came right on time, and once invited in, she set her sewing kit on the table and looked around. “I dinna believe I have ever seen the inside of this manor.”
“Charles secured it for us, and we are most grateful he found it.”
McKenna introduced her to the other women, let her take measurements for new clothes, and the two of them told stories from their childhood to the delight of even Malveen who was somewhat younger at the time.
The men took supplies to the castle where Charles hired Egan, and then invited him to a poker game.
“I cannae,” Egan said. “My wife dinna believe in gamblin’.”
Charles rolled his eyes. “You forget, I grew up with her. I know Malveen better than you and there is nothin’ she likes more than a good poker game. Come to think of it, I believe she is the one who taught me.”
Egan looked shocked. “She has never said a word.”
*
AT LAST, THE MACGREAGORS woke to a cloudy sky that promised to cool things down a bit. Therefore, Sarah and McKenna decided to walk to town. They walked down the lane, turned down the road, and when Sarah found a handful of yellow wild flowers, she bent down and picked them. “For the table,” she said.
“What a glorious mornin’, and such a relief from the heat finally.”
“Indeed.”
They passed the tall oak trees, and were almost all the way around the bend when McKenna heard something in the distance.
“Help...”
“McKenna, I...” Sarah started.
“Shush,” McKenna said, grabbing her arm.
This time the cry seemed a little louder. “Help!”
“Where are you?” McKenna shouted.
“Down here.”
She followed the sound of his voice to the edge of the curve and looked down the ravine. “Ally? Is that you?”
“McKenna?” he asked. Of all people, he never expected her to come to his rescue. “I am trapped.”
Without hesitation, McKenna started down the steep incline.
“McKenna, be careful,” said Sarah.
“Fetch Alistair and Nicholas,” McKenna shouted. The dirt on the slope was loose, and afraid she would fall, she sat down and scooted the rest of the way. At the bottom, she got to her feet and knelt beside him. “Did your horse throw you?”
“Nay, I was walkin’ along the road when I feared an automobile was comin’ too fast to make the curve. I was right. It headed straight for me, so I jumped, rolled down the hill, and hit the tree. I feared no one would ever find me. I am quite embarrassed for here I am with a broken arm and my foot stuck between the rocks.”
By the way he was holding his arm, McKenna did not doubt it was broken, but perhaps there was something she could do to free his foot. She got up, and walked to the other side of two large rocks. “Indeed it is stuck and I fear the rock too large to move by myself.”
“I imagine so,” he said. “It came rollin’ down the hill after me and I dinna get my foot out of the way in time. I tried, but I could not budge it with only one hand.”
“Well, ‘tis not bleedin’ and the lads shall soon come to help you.” When she looked up, Sarah was still watching, so she cupped her hands and again shouted, “Tell them to fetch help. His arm is broken and his leg is trapped in the rocks.” She watched until Sarah disappeared, stepped back, brushed off her skirt, and then sat back down in the same dirt. “Does it hurt awfully?”
“Not awfully.”
“I saw you at the bake sale. Ally, why did you not come talk to me?”
He smiled in spite of his pain. “I have not been called that in years.”
“‘Tis a name of endearment, and I confess I was always quite jealous that you had it and not me.”
He wrinkled his forehead. “You...jealous of me?”
“Of course I was. You were far more able than me. Do you not recall in school how you always had the answer before I did? Try as best I could, you outwitted me every time. It was a hopeless case.”
Ally was astounded. “I dinna know ‘twas a contest.” He winced when he tried to move his arm a little. “I always thought myself quite without any wits at all.”
She took a cloth out of her pocket and began to gently wipe the dirt off of his face. “‘Twas because your father convinced you of it. Forgive me for sayin’ my piece, but he was most unkind to you.”
Ally looked away for a long moment. “I dinna think anyone noticed.”
“We all did and we hated it. I even complained to uncle, but I dinna suppose anythin’ came of it. Not long after that, Uncle died, and I dared not tell Hannish. He was still a bit impetuous, as you recall.”
“I do recall. Besides there was naught anyone could do about it. Father would not have stopped; he merely would have made certain no one heard him.”
“I suppose you are right.”
Ally laid his head back and tried to forget his pain. “McKenna, why do you and Charlotte curtsey when you see me? Do you mock me?”
“Mock you?” McKenna’s mouth dropped. “My dear Ally, if ever I thought you...you always laughed, so we thought... Oh dear, do forgive us.”
“I shall, if you tell me why?”
McKenna couldn’t help but giggle. “Charlotte favored you.”
“What?”
“Did you never wonder why we were so constantly around you?”
“I...”
“No matter what she did, you refused to notice her. You rarely looked either of us in the eye, you know. We might have gathered our courage and tried to make friends, but you were quite unapproachable. When we curtsied you did notice, you see. ‘Twas a childish thing, but...”
Ally closed his eyes while she finished wiping the dirt off his forehead. “I was ashamed of my clothin’.”
“We suspected that. Uncle said ‘tis not clothin’ that makes a good lad, but that which is in his heart.”
“Your Uncle was very wise,” he managed to say as he ignored a pain that shot through his foot.
“She yet favors you, Charlotte, I mean.”
“Did she not marry last year? Sunday, I assumed she had only come home for a visit.”
McKenna looked up at the top of the hill but no one was there yet. “Aye, she did marry. He liked his ale a little too well and when she complained, he beat her.”
Horrified, Ally tried to sit up, “Beat her?”
“Quite severely too, she said. Well, a MacGreagor lass knows she dinna have to put up with that, so she ran from him. She hid for nearly a year and at last, he divorced her on grounds of desertion. I thought her brilliant, for do we not all know how impossible ‘tis for a lass to get a divorce, no matter what her husband does? She cleverly made him divorce her. Now she is free and frets that no lad will have her now.”
“She is wrong.”
Again she looked up the hill. “I cannae think what is takin’ Sarah so long. Have you met Sarah yet? She is Alistair’s wife and I truly love her like a sister. Alistair has come back to Scotland with me, you know. But of course you know, you beat him at poker.” She kept talking, hoping to keep him distracted. “I believe him happier for comin’ back.”
“Aye,” was all he said.
“Where have you been? I mean, why have I not...wait, is it not you who makes the likeness of the castle warrior to sell?”
“Aye, ‘tis me, only...”
“Only what?”
“Only now that the castle is to be rebuilt, I make them no more.”
“Why not? They sold quite well in Colorado.”
“But the castle is to be rebuilt,” Ally argued.
“Why should that matter? I see not why American’s need to know what has become of the castle. A replica of our brave warrior, who survived the fire, and the story behind it, is fascinatin’ to Americans. Truly, most have never even seen a castle.”
“Never seen one?” Ally asked.
“Nay, accordin’ to its years, ‘tis just a wee country yet learnin’ how to walk and talk. They have yet to build their own castles.”
Ally chuckled, and then his smile disappeared. “The duke shall not mind if I made the replicas still? ‘Twas quite profitable and I hoped to buy a proper cottage with the money.”
“I shall simply tell him I have approved it, and that shall be that. He is much too far away to argue the matter. Perhaps you might sell them in the Sears Catalogue. They advertise nearly everythin’, includin’ a privy seat.”
That made his smile widen, until the pain set in again. The noise behind her made her turn around just in time to see Nicholas coming down the hill. “McKenna, are you hurt?”
“Nay, but he is,” she answered.
Nicholas came to a full stop before he recognized the man he played poker with. “Gavin?”
“Aye,” Gavin answered. “My foot is caught.”
Nicholas walked around the rocks, assessed the situation, and looked back up the hill. “Alistair, bring a shovel.”
“Aye,” Alistair shouted.
Nicholas went back to take a look at Gavin’s arm but there was no doubt it was broken. “Do you think your foot is broken?”
“I hope not. ‘Twill most likely be sore though. The rock hit it hard.”
“McKenna, is that our Ally?” Charlotte shouted from the top of the hill.
McKenna nodded to her friend. “I forgot she was comin’ today. Charlotte makes excellent chicken, and if you are very good, I shall demand she make some for you.”
He let go of his hurt arm just long enough to wave to Charlotte. “I have heard about her chicken.”
“She is a seamstress and has come to make maternity clothin’ for me. Now you cannae avoid her no matter how hard you try.”
Gavin smiled. “Now...I dinna wish to.”
McKenna cupped her hands around her mouth again. “Charlotte, call for the doctor.” She watched Charlotte disappear and then Sarah and Alistair reappear.
Alistair laid the shovel down, let it slide, and scooted down behind it. When he reached Nicholas, he too walked to the other side of the rocks. “Can we not just push the rock off his foot?” he asked.
Nicholas said, “We can try it.”
Alistair tossed the shovel aside and just as he got into position, two more men slid down the hill. “Thank you, lads.”
Gavin watched the men begin to push the rock and said, “McKenna, give me your arm to bite on, so that I might endure the pain.”
“Well, you have not lost your humor, I see,” said McKenna. She got up, moved out of the way, and before long, Gavin was free.
By then, a small crowd had gathered at the top of the hill, two automobiles stopped to see what everyone was looking at, and three more men started down the hill to help bring Gavin up. One brought a hemp canvas, which they laid Ally on and then the men hauled him up the hill. As soon as they got him in one of the automobiles, Alistair and Nicholas went back down for McKenna.
*
OVER THE COURSE OF the next few days, McKenna’s household was kept too busy to read. Gavin’s foot was not broken, just badly bruised. The first few days of his recovery took place at Nicholas and McKenna’s Kentigern Manor, and friends he never knew he had kept dropping by to see how he was. Charlotte seemed to have all kinds of reasons to visit. Almost as important as getting to know Gavin better, McKenna was letting the two of them read the book instead of making them wait until the copies were printed.
Charlotte seemed to like reading to Gavin, and he liked listening.
No one would ever figure out why the threats and the nonsense at the castle stopped, and Gavin said not a word for fear Charlotte would think less of him.
At last, Gavin went home, and of an evening after the children were in bed and Malveen’s baby was fed, it was time to read the rest of the Michael’s story.
*
MACGREAGOR GLEN, 1371
King Robert II of Scotland walked his horse into the glen wearing a simple crown and a purple silk robe. With him was a priest to give last rights if he had come too late, and an escort of only forty men, for he guessed no one meant to fight him that day. As he slowly passed the MacKintosh, the warriors slid down off their horses and respectfully knelt. In return, he nodded which meant they could rise. The Kennedys did the same as he continued toward the castle, as did the Dalldons. Even Laird Dalldon dismounted finally and knelt, but the king did not seem very impressed. Instead, he turned his attention to the kneeling MacGreagors, Fergusons, Swintons, and their lairds.
“You may rise,” he commanded. When he spotted Meghan and Elena, he nodded his recognition and then motioned to someone behind him to come forward. To Michael’s amazement, Balric appeared. He walked his horse all the way to his sister in the outer courtyard and dismounted.
“I should have guessed,” Elena whispered. At the same time, Laird Ferguson looked back to see where his wife was, but Michael did not look at Elena and her heart became heavy with disappointment.
Kester looked at Balric suspiciously, looked away, and then looked at him again, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned her attention back to the king. No one else dared speak either, she noticed. She had seen kings before, but not this one. This one she rather liked and hoped to meet before he left.
At length, the king turned his attention to Dalldon. “What are you doing here?”
“I have come for Seona, naturally. Command Michael to give her to me, for he says...”
The king lifted his hand. “First, there is a matter to settle between you and I. Where is Osgar?”
While Dalldon began to shake his head, Michael pointed toward the edge of the forest and spoke up. “There, Your Majesty.”
Osgar was done for, and he knew it. He thought to run, thought to fight the guard behind him, and even thought to cry like a baby, but he contained himself and walked boldly forward until he was close enough to kneel before the king.
Still seated on his horse, the king told him to rise and then ignored Osgar for the moment.
“Where is Seona?” he asked Michael. The king followed Michael’s gaze and when he spotted her, he shouted. “Come down, Seona.” She did not obey and instead defiantly folded her arms, so he tried again, “Come down, or I shall have you thrown down!”
She supposed he was enraged enough to truly do it, turned, and started down the stairs. A moment later, she timidly walked into the courtyard and stopped. When the king motioned for her to keep coming, she reluctantly did as he wished, although she expertly stayed out of her father’s reach. She imagined Dalldon was looking at her with murder in his eyes, so she avoided looking at him. She was, however, thrilled to see Osgar. Osgar did not look pleased to see her. She brushed her hair back once more and looked to see why the king was being so quiet.
Not finished gathering those involved, the king searched the faces of the Dalldon warriors until he found who he was looking for. “Barra, come.”
Barra, the guard who was supposed to spend Osgar’s money keeping Tam alive was astonished that the king even knew his name. He was certain no good would come of what the king had to say, but he walked through the Dalldon warriors until he found his way to the king. He had already knelt once, but he was so nervous, he quickly knelt again just to make sure. When he looked up, the king was no longer watching him and had instead turned his attention to Laird Dalldon.
“Dalldon,” the king loudly asked, “Where is your son?”
With pretend, yet impressive sadness, Dalldon answered, “Passed, Your Majesty.” He failed to notice his daughter’s indifference to the news.
“By your hand?”
“Of course not,” Dalldon huffed.
“Barra,” he asked, not taking his eyes off of Dalldon, “how did Tam die?”
Barra was a dead man – the look on Dalldon’s face told him so. On the other hand, Osgar might have told the king where Tam was, so in the end, Barra decided to tell the truth. His hands were still trembling when he answered, “He died in his father’s dungeon.”
“I see,” said the king still watching Dalldon. “Tis not the only lie you have told. Did you not tell me you paid your taxes while King David yet lived? Balric could find no such payment.”
“I swear...” Dalldon tried.
“SILENCE!” the king shouted. He watched as Dalldon began to cower and then continued. “Balric also found such small payments for the two years prior, as to be a discomfort to us all. Know you not of King David’s good accountin’?”
At last, Dalldon dropped his eyes. “I...”
“Apparently not,” said the king. “Therefore, to compensate Scotland for taxes owed, you are commanded to forfeit your castle, your lands, and all that you own.”
“What?” Dalldon asked. His eyes were huge, his mouth dropped and his knees began to grow weak.
Perhaps Dalldon was slow to understand what was happening, but a smile soon crossed Osgar’s lips. Tam was dead, Seona was a simpleton, and Dalldon was now stripped of his holding. No wonder the king wanted Osgar brought to him – he was the next in line and about to become wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. Fearing the king would notice his delight, Osgar quickly collected himself.
“Furthermore,” the king told Dalldon, “for the murder of your son, I banish you. Let your face never again be seen in Scotland.” That said, the king nodded to two of his men.
Both drew their swords, rode forward and called for Dalldon’s horse, but Dalldon was not about to go peacefully. “Kill him!” Dalldon screamed as he ran toward his men. Not a one of them moved, for they were the same men he had belittled and cheated out of their fair wages. Defeated, the proud and arrogant Dalldon began to sob. “Osgar, save me!” He screamed. He got no reply and soon, two of his own men lifted him up, forced him to mount his horse and let the King’s men take Dalldon out of the glen.
As soon as her father was gone, Seona breathed a huge sigh of relief. Osgar, she noticed, had come closer to her. She forgave him for his foul expression before, smiled, gladly took his arm, and was standing next to him when the king remembered her.
“Seona Dalldon,” he asked in a loud enough voice for all to here, “who is the father of your unborn child?” She instantly saw the beauty in his question and smiled. “Osgar Allardice, Your Majesty.”
“What?” Osgar asked. “You lie, Seona.”
“I do not lie,” she returned. “I am three months gone. Who else could it be?”
“Stop your squabblin’,” the king demanded. He looked behind him once more, found what he was looking for, and motioned for the priest to come forward. “Osgar Allardice, I command you to marry her.”
“Marry...” Osgar began to protest, but was that not Osgar’s intention all long? The next in line to inherit and married to the only other member of the family surely sealed his glorious fate. He glanced at Seona and turned to the king. “I shall do right by her.”
The king finally dismounted and went to stand next to the priest. “Indeed you shall.”
There was more than one happy face in the MacGreagor glen when the priest began the wedding. Murran and Owen were particularly pleased, and the rest could not wait to have Seona out of their lives forever. All the warriors relaxed, all but two of the king’s men dismounted, and the members of the other clans waited to see what would happen next. The only ones disappointed were Laird Kennedy and Laird MacKintosh, for with Dalldon banished there clearly would be no reward to collect. Even so, they had set aside their disgust for each other, at least temporarily.
When the priest got to Osgar’s part of the wedding, Osgar quickly and happily said, “I do.” Seona was beyond thrilled and said “I do,” even before the Priest asked. It was done then. With Seona as his wife, he was certain to inherit all of Dalldon’s holdings, so he proudly lifted his head and waited for the happy news.
He was mistaken.
Before the priest could instruct them to kiss, the king cleared his throat. “Osgar Allardice, for disobeying me in this matter, I banish you - and your wife with you. Show not your faces in Scotland ever again.” Once more, he nodded to the two guards still mounted on their horses.
Osgar was beside himself with astonishment. This was not at all what he expected. Banished? Never to return to Scotland? But all his hidden wealth...his holdings...his fair lasses... Overcome, Osgar slowly let his head fall forward. Before he could gather his wits and think of a good enough argument, he was on his horse. Michael lifted Seona up and put her in Osgar’s lap. Still the newly banished man could think of nothing to say. Words had always been at his immediate disposal, but his mind was suddenly void of all intelligent thought.
That is, until the king’s men had escorted them all the way to the far end of the glen.
“I do love you,” Seona said as she stroked the arm he had around her.
Osgar rolled his eyes. “I assure you, you shall not love me for very long.” Just before they went out of sight, he heard the MacGreagors begin to cheer.
She was gone, and Dalldon was no longer their laird, but his men knew not what to do. When the king realized it, he told Barra to take them home and await word from him. Barra nodded, quickly mounted his horse, and led the Dalldons away. Before the king could question or admonish them, Laird Kennedy led his men out of the glen and the MacKintosh soon followed.
No one was more relieved than Michael when the glen was finally cleared of Dalldons. He remembered to breathe, playfully slapped Ferguson on the back, and then turned to the king. “Will you not come in?”
At last the king smiled. “I shall, if you tell me how Dalldon and all his men got so dirty.”
Swinton grinned. “Catapults.”
“Brilliant,” said the king. “I shall remember that. Ferguson, where is that bonnie wife of yours?”
“Here, Your Majesty,” Meghan said coming to stand beside him. “My husband thinks you fancy me.”
The king leaned a little closer, “He is right.” When Meghan laughed, so did he. “And Elena? Where is she?” he asked as they walked into the inner courtyard. He abruptly stopped. “MacGreagor, why have you not planted flowers here? The dirt begs for color and so do I.”
Walking behind the king, Michael studied his inner courtyard. “I had not thought of that.”
“See to it,” the king commanded.
Michael smiled.
*
IN THE MACGREAGOR GREAT Hall the king sat at the head of the table and Kester sat next to him with Birdie at her feet. She was so enamored with Robert II of Scotland, she had yet to say a word. Conversely, sitting across the table, Elena and Meghan had plenty to say to him. The three lairds remained standing, and no one mentioned what had just happened to the Dalldons, until Balric came in.
“Your brother,” the king told Elena as he watched Balric find a seat at the table next to his sister, “nearly killed himself coming to fetch me this morning. I was not yet dressed and as it was, I scarcely could believe what he was telling. When I dinna grasp it, do you know what he said?”
“What?” Elena asked.
“He said I frustrate him beyond measure.”
Elena grinned at Balric. “He says the same of me too, but just now I am frustrated beyond measure with him. He might have said he was going to get you.”
“I was not certain the king would come,” Balric explained.
The king took a sip of the good wine and set his goblet down. “When he said there was to be a clan war, I feared our design has not worked.”
“On the contrary, it has worked too well,” said Balric.
The king nodded. “Well, there was always a chance of that.”
Ferguson looked to see if Michael was as confused as he, and then asked, “Precisely what design, Your Majesty?”
The king stood up, unfastened his silk robe, took it off, and then laid it over the back of his chair. “‘Tis true,” he said returning to his seat. “When the Marquis asked for Seona, I thought it the perfect match. “Twas Balric who said if the marriage took place, Seona was such, that France might well turn against the Scots.”
“You knew her before?” Elena asked her brother. “You said nothing of it to me.”
“Or me,” said Michael.
Balric addressed his sister first. “I knew of her. Osgar tells all when he has more wine than he can handle. I could not tell you, Michael, for it would have ruined our plan.”
Meghan gave the king a suspicious look. “Do tell, did you arrange Seona’s escape?”
The king chuckled. “For the right sum, Osgar will do anythin’.”
“You told him to bring her here?” Michael asked.
“Not at first. At first, he was merely to hide her. It was not until Dalldon offered a reward, that I sent word for Osgar to bring her here. I knew of the edict and knew you’d not let her father have her back,” the king answered.
“Even I was not certain I would protect her,” Michael confessed.
“If you had decided against it, Balric would have told you the truth,” the king said. “Dalldon would not have killed her, but he would have threatened to unless she married the Marquis.”
“Let me guess,” said Ferguson. “You sent Balric here too?”
The king grinned. “My friend and confidant knows many skills, and when Michael sent for an English master, it fit our circumstances perfectly.”
“If Osgar did as you asked, why did you banish him?” Swinton asked.
“I might not have, save for after Balric told me of the arrangement you made with Osgar. I must say I hope you know Osgar would never have delivered the ransom, and it would not be the first time he has neglected to pay a debt. He is, after all, Dalldon’s nephew.”
Everyone in the room, save Balric was surprised to hear that.
“Well now,” said the king as he glanced at all the eyes watching him. “I do hope I have not convinced you of my devious nature.”
“All kings have a devious nature,” Kester mumbled before she caught herself. Thankfully, when she looked the king was grinning.
“Aye, they do and they must, if they are to stay a king for very long.” He abruptly stood up and reached for his robe. “I must be off now. The Kingdom does not get on well without me.”
Everyone quickly rose and watched as he went to the door. The king stopped and turned back. “How goes Lindsey’s bridge.”
Holding the door open, Rory cleared his throat. “Michael, do you not recall? I know not how to build a bridge.”
“Fear not,” said the king. “Balric shall instruct you, if he cares to stay.”
Soon, all eyes were on Balric. “I should like stayin’ very much.” As soon as the king left, he hurried to follow him out. “I shall bring Beitris to meet you someday soon, providin’ she will have me.”
The further away he got, the more the king’s voice faded. “Beitris? I say, do you...”
Pleased her brother was going to take a wife, Elena could not help but smile at Michael, but Michael still had not looked her way. When he left to see the king off, the rest of them followed. Soon, everyone wished their new king well and watched as he, his guards, and the priest left the glen.
“I best be goin’ too,” said Swinton. “Come see me about that shop,” he told Michael as he signaled for his men to bring his horse. He thanked Mistress Ferguson for her headache remedy, mounted and then he and his men went home.
Everything was quickly going back to normal in the peaceful glen. When it was time for the evening milking, the maids headed off down the path, the warriors put away their weapons and put on their work clothes, the chickens pecked at morsels on the ground, and the dog still had not caught the cat.
“My love,” said Ferguson as he put his arm around his wife, “Shall we not see about our clan?”
“Aye, I miss them terribly.”
“Make ready, wife. Tonight we sleep in our own bed.”
Excited, Meghan took Elena’s hand and hurried back inside the castle.
*
BEFORE BALRIC REALIZED it, Beitris was standing beside him. “I would have gone with you if you had said you were off to see the king,”
“There is time yet for you to see the king.”
“Is there?”
He seemed to stand a little taller when he answered, “I intend to take you there in a day or two.” Just then, he noticed Kester in the middle of a group gossiping. “What do you suppose they shall have to talk of now that Seona is gone?”
“I can hardly believe she is truly gone. Tomorrow, I shall take great pleasure in cleanin’ her filthy bedchamber. A good scrubbin’ will do...”
“Beitris, you miss the point.”
“What point?”
“I was talkin’ of givin’ the clan somethin’ more to talk about. If we walk together in the glen, will that do it?”
She timidly looked in his eyes. “Aye, and ever more so, if you take my hand.”
His excited grin matched hers as he held out his hand. She took it and together they headed across the outer courtyard, down the road and into the glen.
*
ELENA WAS HOPEFUL WHEN she went to find Michael. Laird Ferguson had come upstairs to help his wife gather their things, so she decided it was a good time to explain. The first place she looked was atop the outer wall, but he was not there. He was not in the Great Hall or in the dining room either. Neither was he among his people in the village. He was, of course, in the last place she looked, which was at the end of the path that once led to Lindsey’s cottage.
“Michael,” she said as she approached.
Seated on a large rock near the edge of the river, he quickly got to his feet. “Aye.”
“I have come to beg your forgiveness. I was...” Elena stopped when he raised his hand.
His eyes were unkind and what he said was a statement, not a question, “You believed her.”
His words stung her very soul. All she could do was bow her head.
“I cannae take you to wife when all trust is gone.”
Her nod was slow in coming and tears began to well up in the rims of her eyes.
“Perhaps you are better served with the Fergusons,” he continued.
He had spoken the words she feared most, and there was nothing more to say, so she nodded, turned, and walked back up the path.
An hour later as the Fergusons prepared to leave, Laird Ferguson helped Elena mount her horse, and then Michael kissed Brenna’s cheek and set her in her mother’s lap.
“Forgive me, Michael,” Elena whispered.
He nodded, but it was clear he had not changed his mind. He moved out of the way so Kester could hand the kitten to Brenna. As soon as Ferguson mounted, Michael lifted Samuel and gave him to Michael’s new, and now cherished Ferguson friend. “If ever you are in need...”
“You must come see us often,” Ferguson said. “My wife demands it.”
“Aye,” Michael promised, but both men knew it might be a while. He stood back, and watched as the Fergusons walked their horses down the road. When Mistress Ferguson turned to wave, Michael waved back. Elena did not look back, and it was just as well. By the time he started to the castle, half the clan was watching him.
“Have you nothin’ to do?” he asked. At length, they began to go about their business – all but Kester who stood with a scowl on her face and her hands on her hips. Even Birdie, who was sitting up for a change, looked perturbed. “Dinna say it,” he whispered as he walked past her.
“You have gone daft,” she said anyway.
*
KENTIGERN MANOR, 1911
“He dinna,” McKenna grumbled. “He sent her away? A foolish lad was he to refuse love over such a one as Seona.”
“I see his point, though,” Nicholas said. “Trust once lost is rarely recovered.”
“Love once lost is rarely recovered too,” said McKenna.
“Is there no more to the story?” Sarah asked.
McKenna sighed, “The rest of the page is left blank.”
Jessie tried not to look too guilty. “Perhaps Balric simply got distracted...or his grandson did.”
Alistair carefully watched Jessie’s eyes. “Or perhaps you know something we do not.”
McKenna turned to the next page and then the next before she found a folded sheet of paper. “Ah, perhaps here is something.” She carefully unfolded it and began to read again.
*
THE MACGREAGORS BELIEVED the best remedy for a broken heart was hard work, but it did not always help. Michael spent his days helping build Lindsey’s bridge across the river. It was strenuous, time consuming work that regrettably did little to alleviate his heavy heart. No one confessed to erecting the very large cross, but the reason for it was to shame Seona. With her gone, Michael ordered the wood used in the building of the bridge. As well, he asked Kester to see about having the women plant flowers in the inner courtyard, if for no other reason than to please the king.
Michael said little, answered questions when asked, and shared his meals with myself, Kester, and Birdie in a dining room void of the joy he once felt, if only for a short time. It would pass, he convinced himself each morning, as he went to the top of the north tower to see his world.
It did not pass and I, Balric Verrall’ daily reminded him of my sister and her children. Even so, he treated me with the utmost respect and continued to tell me the stories of old, in what was now a nearly empty castle, with stone walls that echoed our voices in tones so solemn as to dampen the best of spirits.
*
“YOU BE A BIT MORE MISERABLE than yesterday, I see,” Kester said as Michael helped her sit a chair in the dining room.
He sat next to her, filled her bowl with stew and set it in front of her, “I am hardly miserable. The work on the bridge goes well, the clan is happy and you keep me well entertained.”
She gave Birdie something to eat and then licked her fingers. “Happy, is it? The clan needs a mistress.”
“Aye, and someday I shall give them one.”
“Today would do well,” she muttered.
Seated across from Kester, Balric had become accustomed to hearing the two of them banter about the same thing before every meal. He did not interfere and simply waited until they reached the same impasse. The truth be told, he acutely missed his sister and her children too, but he doubted Michael could be persuaded to change his mind.
“‘Tis too quiet without them,” Kester said.
“Have you finished writing the story of Patches?” Michael asked Balric.
“I have, and I am at your disposal when you are ready to tell me the next.”
“I believe today...” Michael started.
“Would be a good day to bring Elena and the children home,” Kester interrupted. “I miss them. Everyone does.”
“Kester, you are an elder and I value your opinion on every subject but this.”
She started to dig another piece of meat out of her bowl. “You savor your pride above your happiness.”
“Pride has naught to do with it.” Michael again turned his attention to Balric. “I shall...”
“I shall die soon,” Kester interrupted.
Michael wrinkled his brow. “Are you unwell?”
“Nay, I am old and before I go, I should like to see you married off.”
“To Elena, I suppose.”
Kester gave him her old familiar accusing glare. “Did you ask her why she thought you might be the father of Seona’s child?”
Exasperated, Michael sighed. “I did not, nor shall I. Let that be an end to it.”
“Are you not aware that Seona went into your bedchamber, found the maid cleanin’, and said she expected to find you waitin’ for her there?”
“What?” Michael asked.
“Everyone knows and so does Elena. ‘Tis not just she who thought you tempted by Seona.”
“Not once was I tempted. Did I not constantly make my feelin’s known?”
Balric rubbed the side of his beard and then looked at Michael. “My sister might have seen Seona that night.”
“What night,” Kester asked.
Balric answered, “The night she climbed into his bed wearin’ not a stitch of clothin’.”
When Kester again looked at him accusingly, Michael quickly explained. “I dinna let her stay.”
“Tis true,” Balric said. “I saw her go in and was witness to Michael sendin’ her away directly.”
“Yet, Elena was right across the hall and might have seen or heard somethin’, am I right?” Kester asked.
Michael stared at the table for a time. “‘Tis possible, I suppose.”
Kester gave another chunk of meat to Birdie. “When you take a wife, Michael, if any lass is daft enough to have you – you must tell her everythin’ first. Dinna let her hear it from someone else.”
“You are sayin’ the fault is mine?”
Kester shrugged, put a spoonful of food in her mouth, and pretended to ignore him.
At length, Balric said, “Which is the next story?”
*
HE WAS ABOUT TO WRITE a story that concerned the birth of triplets, all three of which survived, but in the middle of his attention to it, Balric was sadly interrupted. When all was said and done, he instead wrote:
Early of a morning, and for no reason I could immediately fathom, Birdie began to howl. I sprang from my bed, just as Michael did, and the worst was upon us. Our dear sweet Kester MacGreagor had passed and Birdie was inconsolable. In the dark of a cold night, the entire clan gathered in the courtyard to hear news they already suspected. With the heaviest of hearts and fighting back his own tears, Michael went out to tell them.
Kester hoped she would go first, and God granted her wish, but the dog was having none of it. It took nearly an hour and a ham bone to calm him down.
Normally, ‘tis easier to lay the elderly to rest, for death is expected, but even Elder Diarmad wiped a tear or two from his eyes as he led the funeral procession. It would never be the same without her constant attention to gossip, and I confess to a tear or two myself, although I shed them in private. Kester had not been laid to rest a week when the dog passed. Birdie is buried at her feet, precisely where he lived out the last of his days.
Yet for Michael, it was two less at meals, two less to care about, and the silence overwhelmed even me. At last, he said not a word, mounted his horse, and rode off alone.
*
ELENA STRUGGLED TO settle back into the life she once shared with the Fergusons. At first, she watched for him, but as the minutes, the days and the weeks slowly passed, she was convinced Michael was lost to her forever. Just as she had after the death of her husband, and for the sake of her children, she gave the appearance of contentment.
Eventually, she even stopped watching for him – or at least thought she had.
Samuel had muddied his clothing yet again, and she was washing them in the river when movement caused her to look up. Her heart skipped a beat, for Michael sat on his horse atop a hill watching her. She could but wait to see what he would do, for if he had not forgiven her, he would simply ride away and her heart would break anew. He did not ride away. Instead, he slowly walked his horse down the hill and as she set her washing aside and started toward him, he slipped off his mount and continued the rest of the way on foot.
There, at the bottom of a foot hill, he opened his arms and drew her back into his world.
*
AS FOR MY GRANDFATHER – Balric married a lass who never complained. Grandmother Beitris was the light in his eyes, he often said.
Lindsey’s bridge was completed on 20, December, 1371, and in spring of the following year, so also was the very fine headstone Rory carved for her. ‘Tis the large, square, stone with a cross on the top. When the stone was placed, each and every member of the clan laid upon her grave a blanket of cheerful flowers, in memory of her cheerful and greatly missed pleasing disposition.
Kester and Birdie rest beside her and all is just as it should be.
I Gustof Verrall, grandson of the half-Scot, and half Englishman, Balric Verrall, hereby bring this story to an end, and may all those written about within be fondly remembered.
*
KENTIGERN MANOR, 1911
There was silence in the Manor when McKenna closed the book and handed it to Nicholas to put away. What was there left to say?
That didn’t stop Jessie. “There is another story in the book, you know.”
“Why, Jessie,” said Alistair, “do you now confess you have been readin’ while we are away?”
“I confess nothin’.” She got up, wished them all a goodnight, and went to her bedroom.
“I thought the castle would burn in this story, but apparently not,” said McKenna as she started up the stairs. “Perhaps the next one will tell us.”
Behind his wife, Alistair said, “I am tempted to take the book upstairs just to keep Jessie from readin’ the next story.”
“And who shall keep you from doin’ the same?” Egan asked. Malveen was already upstairs feeding the baby.
“You forget,” Alistair said, “Nicholas and I are makin’ copies and have read half the next story already.”
“That hardly seems fair,” McKenna said to Sarah as they turned the corner at the top of the stairs and disappeared. She bid Sarah and Alistair good night and then went into the bedroom she shared with Nicholas.
Before he turned out the light, Nicholas went to a table against the wall, to once more look at the glass box that now held what remained of Kester’s hourglass. “I wonder how they saved it from burning in the first fire?” He looked up the stairs to make certain no one was watching, touched his fingers to his lips, and then tenderly touched the glass. “Till we meet on that beautiful shore.”
The end
