Highlander's Golden Jewel (Beasts 0f The Highlands Book 6)

by Alisa Adams

  Sitting beside Kaithria was the older gentleman who had escorted her to the dining room. He was droning on about livestock as they ate, but Kaithria was not really listening as she looked all about. She had never seen a room so beautiful before.

  “Mony a mickle maks a muckle, I say. Isnae it turrible?” the older gentleman asked Kaithria in a thick accent.

  Kaithria turned to him. “I am sorry?”

  “One sick sheep leads to many is what he meant,” came a voice from the person sitting on the other side of the gentleman. “He asked ye what ye think of the sheep problem, lass.”

  Kaithria leaned forward and looked at the tiny, old woman who had spoken to her. She could only see the tops of her shoulder and her head, for she was very small.

  “Sheep problem?” Kaithria’s face went pale as she spoke.

  The tiny woman’s hair had a disheveled hair knot that was resting where it had slid down to land on the top of her ear. This was the older woman who had been standing beside Lady Ina out in the great hall, and the same woman who had ridden the pony, King Bobby, next to Aunt Agnes on her huge mule.

  So this is the Ross sisters’ Aunt Hextilda! Kaithria thought. She was looking back at Kaithria with bright, intelligent eyes.

  “Milady, can I ask someone to get ye a cushion to sit on?” Kaithria asked her politely. She did not know how the tiny woman was able to eat, sitting so very low to the table as she was.

  The petite lady waved her hand dismissively, jostling her hair and making it slide even more precariously over her ear. She raised her other hand and roughly shoved the grey knot of hair back to the top of her head where it instantly slid right back down.

  “I have asked,” she said to Kaithria as a tiny little face with pointed ears peeked curiously out from under her tartan shawl.

  Kaithria leaned forward to see the little creature better. Is it a very small dog? she wondered. Oh, an impossibly tiny dog! she realized with a start. She had never seen a dog so very small.

  “Yes, ’tis a wee doggy,” Aunt Hextilda whispered conspiratorially to her when she saw Kaithria trying to get a look at her dog. “From a place far away. New Spain, they call it. Though the local people—the Aztecs—call it Mexico in their Nahuatl language.” She frowned. “I think I said that right. Anyway, they eat these poor wee doggies there! This one’s mama came back on a ship as a gift for a lady.” She smiled. “She was pregnant with puppies! And I ended up with this little one!” She looked past Kaithria suddenly and spurted out, “Here we are!”

  Sure enough, one of the castle’s servants came with a large pillow and spoke quietly to her. Aunt Hextilda leaped up from her chair with surprising energy for one her age. She took the pillow from the servant and placed it on her chair, slapping and punching it before she sat down. Once she sat, she had a beaming smile on her old, wrinkled face.

  Kaithria had listened to her with great interest and gave her a smile in return.

  “Noo then, thot’s better. We were talking aboot the sheep!”

  Kaithria watched, fascinated, as Aunt Hextilda took a small piece of meat and reached under her shawl. The little face peeked out again and accepted the meat politely from her fingers. It truly was the tiniest dog that Kaithria had ever seen!

  “Aunt Hexy, ’tis the Keith Clan’s sheep that has the disease. No sheep are infected here at Kinbrace,” said the young woman sitting across from Kaithria.

  Kaithria turned her attention to the young woman. She was younger than Kaithria. Her features were not unremarkable but taken all together, they seemed perfect on her face. She was simply lovely, for her eyes were large and bright, her nose straight and elegant, and her lips full.

  “My niece, Lady Gillis Ross, is the expert in all things having to do with anything on four feet,” Aunt Hextilda announced to those around them at their end of the table. “She even healed the duke!” she exclaimed.

  Kaithria looked at Aunt Hexy questioningly as the gentleman next to her asked, “A duke, Lady Hextilda? Lady Gillis healed a duke?”

  Aunt Hexy laughed a merry, cackling laugh. “Och, nay! Me Duke.” She reached into her shawl and pulled the teeny dog out. “Duke!” she said proudly, holding up the tan-colored dog for all to see.

  The gentleman sitting beside her who had asked the question reeled back indignantly. “A dog? At the table?” he said with revulsion.

  Aunt Agnes peered down the table. “Did someone say a dog is at the table? Hex-til-da!” she shrilled, drawing out the name. “Did ye bring yer little rodent to dinner! Whot did I tell ye?”

  “Och, wheesht Aggie, ye giant auld windbag!” Aunt Hexy called down the table. She turned her mischievous eyes back to Kaithria with a small chuckle.

  “Hextilda!” Agnes called back. “Only someone so vera, vera wee as ye, that cannae even see over the table, would call me a giant!” Aunt Agnes slammed her glass down on the table. She cleared her throat loudly and continued in her high voice. “She’s as tiny as a wee child, thot one is!”

  The table was stunned for a moment but Keir, who was used to his great aunt’s sparring relationship with Hextilda, managed not to laugh. “I was going to find ye one of those wee dogs for yer large self, Aggie. I willnae, seeing as ye think they are rodents.” he said with a grin and then quickly turned to talk to the person next to him.

  He missed Agnes’s pout.

  Talk resumed then.

  Aunt Hexy turned back to those sitting at her end of the table. “Noo then, aboot me niece—”

  Gillis blushed brightly. “Aunt Hexy, please…” she whispered.

  Lady Ina leaned forward to peer down the table at Gillis. “Tell them Gillis!” she said. Then she looked at the table in general. “Me cousin has been studying animals! She can look at an animal and tell ye exactly what is wrong with it. I have seen her save a sheep that had been horribly mauled by a huge, terrible monster of a wolf, who almost tore the poor thing apart. Its skin was here, its legs there, blood and gore were—”

  “Lady Ina, that is quite enough of a description, thank ye!” Aunt Hextilda called out down the table to her. “Dinnae give me that look, for it doesnae matter to me that ye are married to a beast or a duke. Yer husband loves me and knows I will keep an eye on ye!”

  Ina let out a little huff of breath.

  Gillis fidgetted.

  “Well,” Ina continued, “Gillis can tell ye if an animal will die a horrible, terrible, slecher death!” She looked at her aunt Hextilda, who was frowning at her again, and then continued on. “Or if she can keep it alive with her brilliant canny mind, bringing it back from the brink of sure and tragic death by just the power of her knowledge!” Lady Ina said rapidly for she so loved giving dramatic soliloquies when describing things.

  Aunt Agnes sat on Keir’s right where he sat at the head of the table. Agnes cleared her throat as she looked sternly at Lady Ina.

  The slender Lady Ina just looked back at her with a smile, blinking her long eyelashes innocently at Agnes.

  Keir turned to Gillis. “What do ye know of this disease the Keith sheep have, Lady Gillis?” he asked her in a quiet, deep voice that held respect for the young girl's knowledge.

  Gillis fidgeted a bit again as the whole table went quiet, with everyone staring at her. “The Keiths’ sheep have a disease called scrapie.” She explained the symptoms as everyone at the table squirmed and frowned in discomfort at her description. “There is no cure yet. But there is evidence that inbreeding is causing the problem to worsen. Ye must not breed these sheep that have been infected and survived the disease. They still carry it, though most do die. It has been traced to some blackface sheep brought here from other countries.”

  “But what is there to do?” Aunt Agnes asked.

  “They must be separated from the herd...though some sheep that look healthy may still be infected and not showing the symptoms yet.”

  “Och, Ronan Keith believes it’s a curse!” one of the men said.

  Another woman added, “Ronan Keith is mad. So m
ad that I heard many years ago his wife jumped off a cliff to escape from him. With her young daughter in her arms, no less. He must have been truly awful for the young mother to do such a thing.”

  “Aye, he’s a cruel man,” someone else added. “Anyone who doubts the sheep are cursed, he threatens to kill!”

  There were rumblings and grumblings around the table.

  Kaithria was having trouble breathing. She kept her head down, focusing on the food on her plate.

  “Such nonsense that is!” declared Lady Ina. “I cannae believe people still believe in silly tales and curses!”

  Aunt Hextilda looked at her niece. “Yer one to talk. Ye believe the caves below Fionnaghal are haunted by the ghost of a little boy and his dog who got lost in the caves while playing his pipes.”

  Ina smiled. “Och, aye! And now and then in Castle Fionnaghal, we still hear the music of his little pipe playing a tune down under the castle in the sea caves! ’Tis vera enchanting! And the little ghost boy and his dog helped to save me Aunt Burnie when the poor old dear was lost, wandering cold and frightened in the caves and none of us could find her!” Ina said in her lilting voice. Then she looked down the table at her aunt. “Admit it, Aunt Hexy! It happened!” Ina said gleefully.

  Kaithria turned to Aunt Hextilda with avid interest.

  Aunt Hextilda nodded. “Aye,” answered Aunt Hextilda, “the little ghost boy did help poor Burnie. But a curse causing scrapie in sheep is glaikit, it is!”

  Lady Catriona was almost bouncing up and down in her seat. “Oh, I would love to go explore those caves under Fionnaghal and listen for the pipes! How very fascinating!” she exclaimed.

  “Really, Lady Catriona? I heard ye were sick,” said an older woman with a pinched face. “’Tis not the thing ye should be doing—exploring caves! Ridiculous!” Her husband, across the table from her, nodded his head in agreement, which made her continue on. “Why look at ye! Ye look like ye have only just come from death's door. That hair! ’Tis just awful!”

  Cat held one hand up to her hair as her eyes fell to her lap. She was not able to look at anyone.

  Kaithria immediately raised her chin, her eyes on Cat. “I think Lady Catriona’s hair is very lovely,” Kaithria said.

  Another woman at the table swiveled her head to stare at Kaithria. “Kaithria Zahrah? Is that you?” she exclaimed in surprise. “I didnae recognize ye without your nun’s black cloak on ye. But I’d know that voice anywhere, and those eyes!”

  4

  Aunt Agnes looked at Kaithria and then at Keir.

  Keir had been watching Kaithria. When his attention had been pulled away from her to converse with the dinner guests near him, he was still aware of everything she was doing. Everything that caught her interest; the foods she selected and ate, which ones she seemed to enjoy, which ones she very politely pushed to the side of her plate. He had seen her looking at the extravagant glass chandelier Agnes had purchased for the room and noted her pleasure in its beauty. She was fascinating to watch and he had not been able to help himself.

  “Lady Jane? How do ye know this girl?” Aunt Agnes demanded, but before Lady Jane could answer, Agnes had rushed on. “Zahrah?” Aunt Agnes said loudly. “What kind of name is that?”

  Kaithria stared around the table. She was trying to hide her fear, her worry. “I cannot say,” she said quietly.

  The older gentleman beside her said, “The brooch ye are wearing? It has the Royal Crown of Marrakesh on it. Or is it Spain? Perhaps it is Portugal...” His voice dwindled away as he sipped his whiskey, deep in thought.

  Kaithria reached up to the brooch on her bodice and closed her fingers over it. Her thumb rubbed the yellow jewel at its center.

  The gentleman continued. “Somewhere south, warmer climate, definitely. I’ll think of it…”

  Keir placed a thumb and finger on his chin and rested his elbow on the table as he listened intently.

  “The name Zahrah is an old Arabic name I believe. It means beautiful, bright, shining, and brilliant. ’Tis a lovely name,” Gillis said with a nod at Kaithria.

  Keir raised his eyebrow at that, glancing quickly at Kaithria, who was very uncomfortable with this topic.

  “How does she know all that?” another man asked.

  “I read,” Gillis said to no one in particular.

  “Aye, Hamish,” Aunt Hextilda said proudly to the man who had asked how Gillis knew what Kaithria’s name meant. “She reads. She is vera intelligent, me niece is!” Aunt Hextilda boasted to the table at large and then smiled at Gillis, who looked very pink in the cheeks.

  Hamish scowled. “Reading? A young lady need not know how to read! She has better things to do than read! What are the women of this day coming to?” He shuddered.

  “Hamish, you are a silly man!” Aunt Agnes said. “I read! And Lady Catriona’s hair does indeed look quite...pretty,” she said with a bang of her fist on the table.

  Keir watched everyone silently, a slight lift to the corners of his lips.

  “The name, it fits ye, with yer eyes,” Cat said as she smiled at Kaithria.

  Aunt Agnes studied her. “Are yer people from that place with the pyramids then?”

  All eyes went to Aunt Agnes at that question.

  “Aggie!” Aunt Hexy cackled. “Whot are ye asking her? Ye daft, numpty auld womon. Why, yer bum’s oot the window if ye think such a thing!”

  Everyone stared at the tiny, ancient woman who dared speak to the huge, intimidating Agnes Gunn in such a way.

  Agnes looked down the table at Hextilda with narrowed eyes. “Hextilda, ye are all bum and parsley, ye wee coo!” Agnes said with a sharp nod as she realized that everyone was looking at her.

  “Cow! Ye are calling me a cow?” Aunt Hexy sputtered. Then she grew calm. “Weel, thot’s a new one. Well done, ye giant!”

  There were hidden smiles behind hands at the diminutive old women’s’ banter back and forth.

  Aunt Agnes glared at Hexy then turned her eyes to Kaithria. “Well girl? Answer me question before the little elf starts calling me names again, will ye?”

  “Aggie,” Keir said in a firm, low voice, “enough.”

  Kaithria shook her head. “’Tis fine, Lord Gunn.” Then she turned to look directly at Agnes, ignoring the stares from all the others at the table. “I cannae say anything aboot me birth except that I was born here, in Scotland, and grew up in the convent, in their orphanage,” she said proudly in a quiet voice. She saw that Keir was intently watching her. She could not help the blush that stole up her cheeks.

  Lady Jane, the woman who had recognized Kaithria, said. “Aye! I can tell ye she is a wonder! Any child that was left orphaned from the Clearances, it was she that would find them.” The lady was chattering away very fast, realizing she had everyone’s attention, particularly the handsome Lord Keir. “Aye, she would gather all the poor orphaned children from any of the destroyed villages.” She smiled. “Not just the orphans. She was always watching out for the hurt wee ones. It was well known that if their da mistreated them she would teach the da a lesson, and then threaten to take the child away if he didnae change his cruel ways.” She lowered her voice. “She would show him what it feels like to have done to him what he did to his wee child, or to his wife, teaching that vile mon a much-needed lesson!” she ended passionately.

  The table grew quiet as all eyes turned to Kaithria.

  Kaithria sat there, her chin up. She knew her cheeks were bright pink. She had nothing to say.

  “Teach a mon a lesson?” one of the men spoke up skeptically as the other men around the table grumbled in rising anger.

  “I am sure it was not what Lady Jane made it sound like,” Cat said in defense of Kaithria.

  Lady Ina nodded. “Of course not. It isnae like she went around stealing children from deserving, kind, and loving parents who adore their wee bairns. She was giving the lost and starving, cold and shivering wet orphans a warm place to lay their wee tired and sick heads down to sleep.” She smiled benignly.
“I am sure she wasnae knocking her fists into brutal men who whip or beat their little ones and their wives at all times of the day or night for no reason…for none of those exist, do they?” Lady Ina looked around the table innocently at the men there. Then she looked back at Kaithria with a new interest as she smiled at her.

  Kaithria smiled back weakly.

  Aunt Hextilda and Aunt Agnes were looking at Kaithria as if she was an odd new insect they had never seen.

  “Weel, I say good for ye, girl!” Aunt Hextilda said suddenly into the silence with a slap of her hand on the table. The sound must have startled her tiny dog, for it suddenly let out a high-pitched bark from under her tartan shawl.

  Luckily for Aunt Hexy, no one noticed, for they were all too engrossed in the conversation.

  “Well, girl?” Aunt Agnes asked. “Was that what it was like?”

  Kaithria opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Then she opened it again as she looked at Agnes. “I cannot say…”

  Keir cleared his throat and pushed his chair away from the table. “I think it is time we retire to the drawing room,” he said as he glanced under his lashes at Kaithria. He stood up and with his superior height, he looked down the table commandingly as the other men rose.

  Aunt Agnes stood up as well. “The ladies will join the men. We will have some music and some dancing since we are a small party!”

  Cat pushed back her chair eagerly. “I havenae danced in so vera, vera long!” she said excitedly. “I will be saying aye to any of ye that asks me!” she announced.