Highland Storms

by Christina Courtenay

  Seton soon had something else to annoy him, however.

  Two days after the wedding, Brice had the men round up all the cattle and bring them into a pen on the lower hill. ‘It’s time to sell off the spare bullocks. Ramsay, Alex and I will take the animals to market tomorrow, so we need to choose which ones to keep and which ones to sell,’ he told the factor.

  ‘But I wasn’t going to set off for Crieff until the end of the week,’ Seton protested. ‘There’s no need to go this early.’

  ‘There’s every need,’ Brice countered. ‘We want to sell while the buyers are still eager and they should be keen and waiting now.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know if I can be ready to travel so soon. My back is giving me trouble again and …’

  Brice held up a hand. ‘Don’t worry, I’d rather you stayed here to keep an eye on things in my absence. Wouldn’t want anyone to cheat me while I’m gone. Ramsay and Alex are all the help I need, plus one or two of the men. No, you take it easy and rest your back. Let Iain do the hard work, once he surfaces from wedded bliss.’

  He saw anger flash in Seton’s eyes, but the man couldn’t very well countermand a direct order from his laird, especially when it was worded as concern for his health. Brice guessed Seton had hoped to pocket some of the profits from the sale of the cattle and didn’t like to be thwarted. Too bad! he thought. I’ve had enough of his thieving ways.

  On the way back to the house, Alex came to meet them. He drew Brice slightly to one side and whispered, ‘A word if you please.’

  Brice nodded and the two of them waited for everyone else to pass so they were out of earshot. ‘Have you found something?’ he asked.

  The youth nodded, his mouth a grim line. ‘Oh, yes. There’s a tumbledown old hut in the forested area over there,’ Alex nodded towards the east. ‘That’s where he’s keeping his stash, under a big stone which used to be part of the hearth.’

  ‘Great, thank you! How did you find out?’

  Alex smiled. ‘Well, your little friend in the stables has pretty sharp eyes and he told me he’s often seen Seton going for walks in that direction, which he thought was odd since there’s nothing there. So I lay in wait and followed the man. But don’t you want to know what I found?’

  ‘What, you looked?’

  ‘But of course! What’s the point of finding a man’s hiding place if you don’t know what’s in it?’

  Brice had to laugh at that. ‘Go on then.’

  ‘There’s a small chest almost full to the brim with gold coins. No silver or lesser metals, all golden guineas and half-guineas. He must have been saving for years!’

  Brice felt his jaw tighten. ‘Damned impudence,’ he muttered. ‘It should all have been sent to my father or used for the tenants’ benefit.’

  ‘So do you want me to fetch it for you? I put it back for now, just in case the man went again before I had a chance to tell you.’

  ‘No, leave it. We can’t prove it’s his unless we catch him with it red-handed. I’ll tell Iain to make sure his father doesn’t go anywhere until we come back, then we’ll confront him on our return. At least he won’t be adding to his loot any time soon, I’ll see to that.’

  Little Ida was left behind when the men took the cattle to the market. The child didn’t seem too concerned about being without her father for a few days and since her Swedish nursemaid was also there, Ramsay had no qualms either.

  ‘I just hope she doesn’t make more work for you ladies,’ he told Marsaili and Flora, who happened to be with her at the time. ‘I’ve noticed she’s taken to you especially, Flora, but if she’s a nuisance do tell her off. I’m afraid she’s been a little bit spoiled since everyone feels sorry for her, being without a mother. She’s not above using it to her advantage.’

  Marsaili was interested to note that her sister’s cheeks were slightly flushed as she replied, ‘Not at all. Ida is a delight and she’s always welcome to spend time with my mother and myself. Mama is teaching her to sew.’

  ‘Hmm, well good luck with that.’ Ramsay laughed. ‘I doubt she’ll sit still for very long at a time. I appreciate your kindness towards her though, I really do.’

  Flora’s cheeks turned an even deeper pink. ‘It’s no hardship, I assure you.’

  After he had left, Marsaili couldn’t resist teasing Flora a little. ‘You like him, don’t you,’ she said.

  Flora avoided her gaze and answered in a breezy tone. ‘He’s very nice, but he’s not for me.’

  ‘Why ever not? He’s a widower, perhaps he’s on the look-out for a wife and like he said, Ida has certainly taken to you.’

  ‘Maybe, but he wouldn’t want me.’ Flora turned slowly back towards Marsaili. ‘Look at my face. No one would.’

  Marsaili saw the raw anguish in her sister’s eyes and compassion squeezed her heart. She reached out a hand and put it on Flora’s arm. ‘Of course they would. If someone really likes you, a few pockmarks aren’t going to make any difference. Honestly, Flora, I doubt anyone notices them but you.’

  This wasn’t quite true, but Marsaili willed Flora to believe her. Apart from her pitted cheeks, Flora was every bit as pretty as Kirsty and Marsaili knew she had a kinder nature too. She’d be a perfect wife and mother.

  Marsaili hoped Ramsay was the sort of man who could see past small imperfections, because if he did, she was sure he’d be amply rewarded.

  Before they set off with the cattle, Brice organised the rest of the men and youths into teams of four or five.

  ‘I want you to make a start on repairing all the

  huts, please, beginning with those that are most

  tumbledown. The smith has been busy making nails, so there should be enough, and I know you can find all the other raw materials around here. You can take as much timber from the forest as you like. If there are any problems, talk to Mr Seton.’

  ‘He’s never wanted us to repair onythin’ afore,’ someone muttered.

  Brice glared at the man. ‘He has no say in the matter this time. Do you really want your women and bairns to freeze this winter? I’ve seen the state of some of your homes and quite frankly, I’m appalled. If you don’t want to do this, fine, but if I were you, I’d jump at the chance.’

  ‘Some o’ the huts’ll aye need building from scratch,’ someone else said quietly.

  ‘Well, the sooner you make a start then, the better, surely?’

  There were nods of approval and Sandy Mor, the most important member of the community apart from Mr Seton and the smith, spoke up. ‘You’re right, MacCoinneach, we’ll see to it right away. Thank you. Come on, men.’

  ‘I don’t understand why they were so reluctant,’ Brice grumbled to Ramsay as they set off for market. ‘Do they enjoy living in squalor?’

  Ramsay smiled. ‘I think they’re just testing you. They still haven’t quite accepted you as their laird and don’t like being ordered around.’

  ‘Hmph. That’s plain daft when it’s for their own good.’

  Ramsay shrugged. ‘Give them time, Bri, give them time. Now what do you say we go to Edinburgh for a couple of days after we dispose of the bullocks? I have a hankering for some decent ale and entertainment.’

  Brice shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. I’d rather not leave Rosyth for too long at the moment, I can’t trust Seton not to do something stupid behind my back. You and Alex go ahead though. Ida’s fine where she is, so you can be away as long as you want.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Very well, then, we’ll go for a day or two, but send for us if you need us.’

  Seton stood in his doorway and watched the laird ride away, wishing the man would never come back. He was a thorn in Seton’s side and since he’d taken over the day to day running of the estate, the factor didn’t even have anything useful to do. Not that he’d done much before, other than extract money, but still …

  The promise of Kirsty’s dowry was another sore point – Iain hadn’t seen so much as a si
ngle coin yet and Seton suspected he never would either. It had all been a ruse, although why it should matter to the laird who Iain married was beyond him. The boy should have done as he’d been told and waited to marry the daughter of someone important once they had Bailliebroch back, but he thought himself in love.

  ‘Pah!’ Seton spat on the ground. His son was as brainless as the stupid woman who gave birth to him. Fat lot of use she’d been, giving Seton only the one child and then living for years afterwards so he couldn’t take another wife. At least she was gone now and soon he’d have Marsaili in her place. On that, he was determined and he’d not let the laird stop his plans.

  He hadn’t really planned on marrying her, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Not only would she be completely in his control, as his wife, but no one else would ever be able to have her. Seton was well aware of how other men followed her with their eyes. To have sole rights to her would be very satisfying. Besides, he had to marry someone and now the laird had acknowledged her as kin she wasn’t a nobody any longer.

  He glanced along the stone dyke wall which ran by the side of his house and noticed a part of the top layer had fallen down. The tacksman Sandy was walking past carrying an armful of tools and Seton called out to him.

  ‘See to that, would you?’ He nodded at the wall. ‘And quickly before any more tumble down.’

  ‘Sorry, Mr Seton, but the laird has ordered us to repair all the huts. No one can be spared for trifles just now,’ Sandy told him with a distinct smirk. They’d never seen eye to eye and it was clear the man relished being able to refuse to do Seton’s bidding for once.

  Seton glared at the man, but knew he was beaten for the moment. It strengthened his resolve to be rid of the laird, however, and since no one seemed to need him right now, he sat by his fire and hatched a plan.

  This time he wouldn’t fail.

  Brice entered the courtyard at Rosyth feeling tired, but content. The bullocks had fetched a good price and although he hadn’t had much cattle to sell since he was trying to increase his herd, not deplete it, the sum obtained was a welcome bonus. Young bullocks were no use in any case unless for slaughter, it was the females who were worth keeping.

  Archie came running to take Starke’s reins as soon as Brice had dismounted. Brice couldn’t resist giving the little lad a hug and a smile before handing them over. ‘All well here?’ he asked.

  ‘Aye.’ Archie grinned. ‘We’ve barely seen hide nor hair of Mr Seton so it’s been very quiet.’

  Brice laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘Glad to hear it.’ He put his hand in his pocket and brought out a parcel. ‘Here, I found you something at the market which I thought you might like. But be careful with it, right? I don’t want any bloodshed.’

  Archie unwrapped the packet with almost indecent haste and then shrieked with joy. ‘A proper dirk, I don’t believe it! Thank you, thank you so much, it’s wonderful!’

  He hugged Brice’s middle again, his little face beaming. Brice had known the boy would like a new dirk, since his old one was so puny and very basic. He’d found a small but sharp one with a horn handle inlaid with silver swirls that had seemed perfect. ‘You’re very welcome. You’ve earned it by taking such good care of Starke. Now, I’d better go inside, but I’ll see you later, no doubt.’

  As he took the stairs up to the great hall two at a time, he realised he was happy and what’s more, he hadn’t thought about Elisabet since he’d burned her letter. He barely even remembered what she looked like. That part of his life was well and truly in the past and he’d resolved not to think about it any more. During his time away, it had been another face which invaded his dreams, one with lovely green eyes and a generous mouth just made for … He flung open the door and collided with the owner of those very attributes, who uttered a little shriek.

  ‘Oh! So you’re back then.’

  He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her and noticed she didn’t shrug them off, despite her previous admonition for him to keep his distance. This made him smile and before she had time to react, he bent and quickly kissed her full on the lips. ‘Indeed,’ he said, ‘and very glad I am to be here.’

  ‘I thought I told you –’ she began, but he interrupted her with another kiss, lingering a touch longer this time.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ he murmured, ‘I know, but it’s your own fault for looking so delectable. You tempt a man sorely, Marsaili.’

  ‘Well, really! I don’t see how I can be to blame,’ she protested, but there was a tinge of pink on her cheeks that told him she was pleased at the praise.

  He watched with amusement as she tried to collect her wits, but he didn’t give her a chance to think about it for too long. ‘So you missed me then,’ he said, leaning forward to pull her closer and nuzzle her neck, just below the left ear. Her skin was feather soft and he inhaled the familiar smell of heather and lavender that was so uniquely hers.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ she replied, the breath hissing out of her as he nibbled her ear lobe. ‘Kindly don’t …’ She put both hands up and pushed against his chest, but in a very half-hearted way.

  ‘What? Not even a little? For shame! And there was I, yearning for your sweet lips …’ His mouth made its way along her chin and touched the corner of those lips. ‘Aching to hold you, taste you …’ He flicked his tongue along the plump fullness, making her open for him, and then dived in. He vaguely heard another hastily indrawn breath and then she capitulated, kissing him back. Her hands came up to tangle in his hair, caress his neck and shoulders, and he allowed his own hands to wander downwards as he deepened the kiss.

  A loud bark and something heavy bumping into Brice’s thigh pulled them apart. While Liath greeted him as enthusiastically as always, Brice muttered, ‘We’re going to have to work on your timing, boy.’ But he couldn’t help smiling and patted the hound. ‘Yes, yes, lovely to see you too.’

  ‘I, er, had better go.’ Brice quelled a sigh as Marsaili backed away and headed for the kitchen. ‘I’ll see about some victuals for you,’ she said.

  ‘Excellent, thank you. And unless it’s washing day again, do you think I could possibly have a bath? Please? I feel as if all the dust of Scotland is clinging to me.’

  ‘Very well.’

  Brice knew he could have gone down to the loch. The water temperature was still bearable, but only just. His muscles felt cramped from sitting in the saddle for so long though and the hot water would be much nicer. He smiled again to himself as he went to sit by the hearth where a peat fire smouldered quietly, the smoke drifting in lazy clouds up the chimney.

  It was good to be back.

  No sooner had he finished this thought, however, than the door burst open and the Englishman, Sherringham, came striding into the room without so much as a knock. Brice got to his feet in an instant, his body tensing.

  ‘You, sir, are under arrest,’ Sherringham announced. Some of his men had followed him into the room and he gestured for them to grab hold of Brice.

  Brice drew himself up to full height, which meant he towered over the Redcoats, who were all shorter than him. ‘I beg your pardon? On what grounds?’

  Sherringham pointed a finger at Brice and narrowed his eyes. ‘We’ve found your weapons hoard, laird.’

  ‘My what?’ Brice felt his eyebrows rise. He had no idea what the man was talking about. On the walls of the great hall hung a couple of rusty old rapiers, relics of times gone by, but when he glanced at them they were still there, so he assumed the captain was talking about something else.

  ‘Broadswords, muskets, pistols, dirks …’ Sherringham ticked these items off on the fingers of one hand. ‘Quite a little cache you had here, although perhaps you should have hidden them better. Hay is so easy to move, you know.’

  ‘I have absolutely no knowledge of any weapons,’ Brice stated. ‘I’ve only just returned from a trip to the south.’

  ‘So? They’ve likely been here an age, since the battle of Drummossie Moor in fact.
As I’m sure you know, it’s against the law to possess any such things. You are facing at least six months in gaol. I have no choice but to take you to Fort George in Inverness.’

  ‘Now see here,’ Brice was becoming very angry and shook off the hands that were still attempting to hold him, ‘I don’t own any weapons as far as I’m aware and if my tenants had any, you must take the matter up with them. Besides, I’m a Swedish citizen and you have no right to arrest me.’

  ‘Swedish or not, you’re the laird here, and as such, you’re responsible for your people and their possessions. That makes you subject to our laws.’

  Brice clenched his fists and glared at the pugnacious man. ‘You’re making a mistake, Captain Sherringham. I have friends in high places down in Edinburgh and they will vouch for me.’

  Sherringham sneered. ‘A likely tale. And be that as it may, they’re not here now, are they? Summon them for your trial, if you wish. For now, you’re coming with us at once. Jones, Allder, bring him.’ He snapped his fingers and turned towards the door.

  The soldiers who’d been given the task of dragging Brice along complied with this request with smirks and mutterings of ‘how the mighty have fallen’. Brice couldn’t resist fighting them off again, but several of their comrades came to their aid and in the end he realised it was futile. He couldn’t take on an entire troop of soldiers on his own. As they entered the courtyard he saw Seton standing by the English horses, looking mighty pleased with himself. Brice threw him a look of loathing, but said nothing. Instead he called Archie over. The boy was hovering by the stairs, obviously finished with his task of seeing to Starke.