Catherine watched him expectantly. “What does Hogmanay mean?”
“Och, there are several interpretations.” Duncan shrugged. “I believe ‘tis Gaelic for new morning, or oge maidne. However, many in the Borders, where Tamara lives, believe it means holy moon’s passing, from the Saxon haleg monath. Yet others believe the name actually comes from the French Homme est né, Man is born.”
Catherine whispered, “Jesus.”
Duncan nodded.
“Aye. God’s holy son.”
“Tell me how you celebrated before.”
“It matters not, Mo Chridhe. We shall celebrate both holidays from now on.”
Catherine pressed, “I would not have your people resenting me for changing everything. You already wish I was not here.”
“Our people.” Duncan shook his head, pretending he hadn’t heard her last comment. Would he ever convince her of his need for her? Of how much his people already loved her? “Mam insisted we attend kirk on the eve afore Christmas and Christmas Day. As you already know, we have no chapel, but Castle Glenshee does. Mam used it regularly. We did not have a live-in priest, but one traveled there regularly at my father’s behest. The day after Christmas, Mam recognized the Feast of Saint Stephen.”
“The day of charity? When the church opens its alms boxes?”
Duncan nodded. “Aye, Mam gave wee gifts to everyone who served us. Grant’s family, where I fostered, did so as well. His wife follows it now.” Looking upset, Duncan paced the room. “Truth be told, the past several years I spent Christmastide with Tory and Grant, not wishing to be at Glen Shee.”
“You missed Christmas with Meggie?” Catherine asked, aghast.
“I did,” Duncan agreed sadly. “‘Tis my one regret.”
He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “I have decided to take you both to Crieff for a wee visit. ‘Twill be difficult traveling in this weather, but there is something I wish you both to see.”
“What?”
“You shall see when we get there,” Duncan teased.
~ * ~
He’d sent Grant a missive a fortnight earlier, so he envisioned Tory decorating Drummond Castle for their arrival. Christmastide was her favorite time of year, so he had no doubt she’d relish the chance to decorate earlier than normal.
Grant and Tory rushed out into the bailey to greet them. Tory stood in her fur-trimmed mantle and hood, Grant in his plaide. Grant had his arms wrapped around her waist, his hand resting protectively on her belly.
Light flurries fell as Duncan helped his wife and daughter from the conveyance. After exchanging greetings with their hosts, Duncan led Catherine and Meggie out of the bone-chilling cold and inside to the warmth of Drummond’s Great Hall.
Catherine gasped when she entered it. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes swept toward a massive tree.
Speechless, Catherine looked at the elaborate decorations while Meggie jumped up and down and tugged on her hand. The entire room had evergreens with nuts and tiny bits of bright cloth scattered throughout branches. Candles were placed in the ferns. It reminded her of a faerytale.
“Mam, look,” Meghan shouted, pulling on her hand. “Look at the tree.” Eyes wide with awe, she turned to Duncan. “Da, look.”
“I see it, Sweetling.” He smiled at his daughter, then his eyes sought Catherine.
Hers darted around the room, but always returned to the festive tree. Red ribbons had been tied into bows around the branches. At the very top was a silver coated star.
Catherine was speechless.
Duncan wrapped his arms around her. “This is what I wished to show you, Mo Chridhe.” When she turned her head to look at him, he smiled. “‘Tis a tannenbaum, a Christmas tree.”
Breathless, Catherine whispered, “‘Tis beautiful.”
“The tradition came from Germany,” Tory interjected, walking toward her guests, “although ancient pagans attached fruit and candles to evergreen branches in honor of their god Woden. To them, trees symbolized eternal life. My father traveled a lot in his business, and one year he brought back the idea of something he’d seen in his vast travels—a Christmas tree. We had one every year after.” She smiled up at her husband. “I asked Grant if we could have one the first Christmas after he brought me here.” The smile lighting her eyes, she jabbed her husband with her elbow.
Catherine watched as her hostess swung her eyes back to her handsome husband. “He thought me daft to suggest a tree inside his Great Hall rather than a log.”
Catherine turned to Duncan. “Might we have a smaller one?”
Duncan’s chest rumbled with laughter. “‘Twould have to be smaller. Our home is not as large. Aye, you may have a tree.” His eyes twinkled. “I knew not if you had one in London or not.”
As soon as Tory introduced Catherine and Meghan to her four youngest children, the youngsters dashed off to play with friends. “Please forgive them,” Tory said. “Sometimes I fear they lack manners.” Watching her youngest children run outside, she placed her arms around two young girls, drawing them close. “This young lady is our foster daughter, Annie.” She turned to face the other child. “And this beautiful young woman is my sister, Ashleigh. She visits from England. Annie and Ashleigh will show Meghan to their room.”
Tory escorted Duncan and Catherine to theirs. “I am certain you would like to relax. Join us downstairs after you have refreshed yourselves.” She quietly closed the door behind her.
Catherine watched her leave. This is the woman she’d been jealous of? From everything Esme told her, she’d thought Tory in love with Duncan. Yet clearly the woman adored her husband.
Catherine sank onto the bed. “Duncan, I have never seen anyplace decorated like this. ‘Tis magnificent. It...” She stammered for words. Looking around the bedchamber, decorations of ferns and candles on small tables caught her eye.
The next several days were spent in a whirlwind of events. Catherine and Tory rarely separated and Meggie delighted in playing with the Drummond children. During frequent snowball fights, shouts abounded, punctuated by squeals of laughter.
Adults often joined the children. On one such trek, Catherine fell backward into the snow. Duncan rushed to her side, thinking her hurt. Instead, she moved her arms up and down and swung her legs outward in an arc. Finally she reached for him and he pulled her up.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing?”
She laughed and pointed at the ground. Everyone saw an angel—a snow angel. Soon children flopped backwards in the snow, giggles abounding. Catherine tried to pull Duncan forward, but he resisted. “Come husband. Be a child.” Her eyes searched his face. It suddenly looked pained. “With the war ever continuing, you fret too much. For a short time, forget your worries.” She let go of his hand and ran to a spot where children hadn’t yet created an angel. She extended her hand to him, her eyes beseeching his. Duncan exhaled deeply, seeming to fight some internal battle, but joined her. She held his hand then turned him around and instructed, “On the count of three, fall backwards.” He nodded.
“One. Two. Three!” Catherine watched her husband raise his eyes to the heavens before falling backward with her. A smile lit her face as she moved her arms and legs and she scrambled to her feet to pull him up. He yanked her into his arms to kiss her.
“Duncan,” she squealed, “you will ruin the angel.”
A tender smile crossed his face. “Nay, my love, naught will ever ruin my angel. She is perfect.” He brushed the back of his hand lightly over her cheek before kissing her again, then letting her pull him up.
Grant rushed to an outbuilding. He returned with several targes awaiting repair and bid everyone, “Follow me.” Shrieks of laughter echoed as he sat on a targe and careened down the hill. By the time he walked back to the top, his older children were already sliding down the hill.
Catherine bent to grab one and sat on it. She went nowhere. Duncan laughed and leaned over to push her. Plummeting downward, she screamed all the way down.
She reached the bottom, picked it up and turned to march back up the hill. She challenged, “Race with me, husband. I shall beat you.”
Duncan laughed. “Aye, you would if ‘tis necessary I push you first.”
Catherine scrunched up her face and glared. He motioned Meggie to sit between his legs. With one hand around Meggie’s waist and the other holding the targe, he waited for Catherine to situate herself. Ashleigh and Annie positioned themselves behind the adults and pushed. Meghan clutched her father’s legs and screamed, “Aaaaaaah” at the top of her lungs. Catherine screamed just as loudly as she inched past them. Drummonds cheered, urging them onward. Catherine slid to the bottom a hairsbreadth before Duncan. She jumped up in excitement and reached down to lift Meggie high into the air, swinging the young girl around.
Grant watched their antics, a pleased smile on his face.
Meggie squealed, “A-rithist, a-rithist.”
“And that means?”
Catherine swung to look at Duncan. Did his eyes shine with love? Aye, for Meggie. The two walked arm and arm up the hill.
“Again,” he answered.
“Oh, aye. Again.”
This time Duncan positioned Meggie between Catherine’s legs and they raced Annie and Ashleigh. Giggles of delight echoed off the surrounding mountains.
With snow antics behind them, Tory rushed everyone inside to change into dry clothes, not willing to risk anyone getting sick.
Too soon the visit came to an end. Meggie scrambled into the litter, slid the curtain aside and watched her parents bid farewell to the Drummonds.
~ * ~
Safely back at Cray Hall, Duncan busied himself with catching up on current news while Catherine and Meghan settled into their daily routines. Soon Catherine decided she wished to decorate so she headed outside to collect ferns and nuts.
Meggie delighted in helping and soon followed Catherine while she placed ferns around the outside doorframe. Catherine patiently lifted and held her while the child placed decorations where she wanted them.
Hearing footsteps crunching the snow behind them, Catherine turned to see a wide smile crossing her husband’s face.
“Need help?” He reached around and held Meggie while she decorated the door to her—and Catherine’s—satisfaction.
Meggie beamed at her father. “Look what I did, Da.”
“I see, Sweetling.” Squeezing her tightly, he gave her what his men called a bear hug.
Meggie’s laughter peeled with delight and she squeezed back.
Chapter Seventeen
In the morn he headed outside to gather the much-awaited tree, taking Alex with him to carry it. Catherine’s eyes lit up when he settled it in a corner while the children ran about the Hall, a flurry of energy. Calling them to her, she set them to decorating. She’d taken Tory’s idea of the tree, yet made the decorations her own. She had the Blacksmith make rings similar to what he forged for chain mail, only thinner, and looped them into a long strand. Entreating the children to help, they wound it around the tree. Next came a garland she’d created from sprigs of holly and bows fashioned from scraps of rags and yarn. Duncan smiled when she could no longer reach the upper branches. Walking to her, he did what she’d done with Meggie the day before—lifted and held her while she finished decorating. She giggled like a child, the sound musical, as she placed the star their blacksmith made atop the tree.
Everyone stood back and stared with awe at the beauty and magic Catherine conjured for them. To the delight of each child, she rewarded them with several hazelnuts for helping.
Duncan decided traditions dear to Catherine would be continued. She told him, “Mother allowed the servant’s children to reenact the birth of Jesus, when the Magi brought Him gifts.” He watched as Catherine coached his clansmen’s children. Word had spread quickly and each day more children from throughout the town appeared. He’d agreed when she asked, “May they perform it the eve of Christmas?” He marveled at how she’d made the season come alive, bringing the message of Christ’s birth as she coached them. Parents delighted that their children were so involved in festivities.
On a bright and sunny afternoon a sennight later, Duncan went outside to cut the Yule log. After bringing it in, he told Catherine, “It cannot be lit until Christmas eve. There is a ceremony we shall perform.” He planted a kiss on her cheek as he walked to the hearth. “I think you shall like it.”
“I am sure I shall, but the days pass too quickly to my liking.”
It was time for Cook to serve supper, but everyone was reluctant to leave the tree. From behind, Duncan wrapped his arms around her and rocked her slightly. He kissed her temple. “Thank you for making this Christmastide special for the people of our clan. You bring much joy to us all.” Nibbling her earlobe, he said, “Especially me.”
She craned her neck to look at him. “Do you think your father will come to watch Meggie in the program?”
Duncan shook his head. “Nay, the man is far too stubborn to do that.”
“What a shame. It will be his loss.”
As they were seated for the meal, Duncan glanced at tables laden with Yule food, the pungent aroma wafting throughout the large room. Men placed roasted pigs on tables that groaned under weight of the food. “I do not think anyone shall go away hungry,” he teased.
Catherine tried recipes she’d gotten from Tory. She couldn’t wait to taste Black Pudding, but after doing so whispered to Duncan, “Blech, I shall not have that again.”
Duncan chuckled. “You do not wish to know what is in it.”
When everyone said they couldn’t eat one more bite, Cook came in with a holiday cake, made with honey, raisins and nuts. Catherine chuckled when the men found ‘a wee more room’ to top off their meal.
After the meal was finished, Duncan rose and dashed up the staircase. He returned, unwrapping a small wooden knot. “Remains of last year’s Yule log. We use it to light this year’s fire to bring good fortune.”
Men nodded affirmation as he went to the hearth and placed holly beneath the log to kindle the fire. He looked around ensuring everyone had gathered, then sprinkled the tree trunk with oil, salt, and mulled wine. He’d set the necessary items beside the hearth earlier in the day.
He drew Catherine to hearthside. “Join me.” Their hands together, they put the tender to the Yule remnant, setting it ablaze and in turn to light the new log. Reaching for a goblet of wine, he turned to his clansmen and raised it in toast. “Slàinte, sonas agus beartas.”
A cheer went up around the room at his wish of health, wealth and happiness.
Duncan bent, picked up a sprig of holly and handed it to Catherine. “Toss this into the fire.”
“Why?”
Duncan’s smile faded. “To burn up the past year’s troubles—we had enough of those. Let us put them behind us and start our lives afresh.”
Catherine eyed him warily. Surely he didn’t believe troubles vanished by throwing holly into the fire? She looked around and saw all eyes on her. All as hopeful as Duncan’s.
Catherine couldn’t bring herself to spoil the day for them. With a smile she threw the holly into the fire. Others moved forward to do the same.
Deep in her heart Catherine knew it would take more than a bit of holly to make all well with the world. It wouldn’t end the feud with England, and wouldn’t bring back her baby.
It wouldn’t make Duncan love her.
Pushing aside the painful thoughts, she cocked a brow. “Are there other superstitions that accompany this eve? You seem to have one for every occasion.”
Angus chuckled. “You have the right of it there, lass.”
“Aye, ‘tis bad luck for the fire to go out.”
Catherine’s eyes danced. “Why?”
“Because the Sidhe are about on the longest night of the year and only raging fires keep them from coming down the chimney and paying an unwelcome visit.” Duncan looked like he tried his best to keep a straight face.
“Well we certainly wou
ld not want anything coming down our chimney,” Catherine teased, her mood lifting, “and I am quite certain you already arranged to have someone tend the fire.”
Duncan grinned, revealing he had.
“Let us sit and watch all bad things burn away.” She tried to hide a smile. Failing, she patted the spot beside her, indicating Duncan should sit. “I for one am tired and could use an excuse to rest.”
Men sat before the hearth and rested, drinking whisky. Duncan sat beside Catherine, one arm draped casually across her shoulders, Meggie seated on his lap.
“The Hall is decorated wondrously for Oidche Choinnle, our Night of Candles. Thank you, wife. You did a beautiful job.”
Duncan ascended the stairs with her later, his mood seeming mellow.
Closing the door firmly behind them, he drew her into his arms. “I am glad you shared the day with me, lass. ‘Tis the first Christmas I spent with Meggie in many a year.” He bent to feather a kiss across her lips, then whispered, “I thank you for that.” His hand flexed in a squeeze on her shoulder.
Tired from the day’s activities, they were soon abed. Duncan’s arms encircled her and drew her close. She snuggled against him, her bottom against his hips. He fell sound asleep. Catherine lay abed. If only life could always be this simple. Our upcoming ceremony is about ridding ourselves of past year’s problems. Would that it could be. Mayhap if I believe enough, this coming year will be free of problems. Blessed Father in Heaven, help me to believe.
~ * ~
Christmas morn dawned bright and sunny—with bitter temperatures. Duncan smiled upon waking, his first Christmas with Catherine in his arms. “Nollaig Chridheil,” he told her, placing kisses lightly on her forehead and cheek.
“Happy Christmas to you, too,” she murmured sleepily.
She looked beautiful as she lay beside him. He caressed her lips. I could kiss those lips for hours and not tire of them. He’d never felt so at peace and it was all her doing, so he felt a twinge of guilt for refusing to go to the castle when Meggie had asked. “I know you would have liked to attend the castle’s chapel service, but I refuse to set foot there and have this blessed day ruined.”
Her Highland Destiny Page 13
