by Alisa Adams
“Gavin tells me it is what most women long for.” Allana laughed.
Edme put her hand over her daughter’s. “Oh, my darling, I am so delighted for you,” she said breathily. “Two daughters so happily married! It is every mother’s dream!”
Allana still looked a little uncomfortable, so Edme waited for her to speak. “You know Gavin’s history, mother?” she asked. “About his first wife’s death?”
Edme nodded.
“Three days from now it will be six years since her death.” She frowned and went on, “I do not know whether to mention it, whether to commiserate with him, or say nothing at all. What do you think?”
“I think that perhaps you should mention it, but gently,” Edme answered. “That will give him a chance to speak about it or not, whichever he wishes.”
Allana smiled. “I knew I could depend on you, Mother,” she said. “You are so wise. However, there is something else I need your advice about, Mother,” Allana continued, frowning. “I need to know the best way to break the news about the baby.”
Allana had to thump her mother’s back as she choked on her wine.
“My God, Allie,” she cried at last. “Could you not have been gentler with me?”
Allana laughed. “Be happy for me, Mother.”
Edme hugged her tightly. “I am overjoyed, darling...” Her voice trailed off as she became too emotional to speak.
“Not a word, Mother,” Allana warned. “I want to tell him in my own time, so try not to look too happy yet!”
“But why did you not tell him first?” Edme was puzzled.
“Because I had to tell SOMEONE!” She laughed. “Or I would have burst! But I want the time and place to be just right to tell Gavin.”
“When are you due?” Edme asked.
“In the summer, around July, I think.”
“A summer baby,” she sighed, “How lovely!”
They sat and talked a while longer, Allana sitting with her head on her mother’s shoulder. She was about to drop off into a pleasant doze when she heard a deep voice calling her name. “Allie!” Gavin called. “Where are you?”
“In here with my lovely mother!” she called.
Gavin appeared in the doorway to the parlor. His face flushed from the cold and his long silver hair tangled from the wind. He brought the smell of fresh air with him and was glowing with health and happiness. He swooped down on his wife and swept her up from the couch into his arms, laughing.
Allana let out a startled squeal and then laughed. “What did I do to deserve all this?” she asked.
“You married me,” he said happily.
“I believe I did,” she agreed. “And I could very happily un-marry you if you do not have a bath very quickly!”
“Edme!” he cried delightedly, noticing her at last. He put Allana down and crossed the room to kiss her but she put out her hands to stop him.
“Bath first,” she ordered, “cuddles later.” He sighed, but before he went out, he kissed Edme on the cheek anyway and she flapped her hand at him in reprimand but laughed. “Like most men,” she said, shaking her head, “he is growing backward.”
37
Laird Douglas
It had been months since Catherine Douglas’s death, but Munro had been unable to forgive or forget. Everything reminded him of her, especially the faces of his son and two daughters. He was miserable without her. At first, he had been able to cope, but as his birthday, their wedding anniversary, and the birthdays of each of the children had come and gone with each one feeling lonelier than the last, he became more and more furious.
He should have waited longer, he knew, so that the mourning period was finished, but he simply could not. Accordingly, he mounted his horse and rode out of his own estate toward Ingram Castle, kissing his children goodbye and promising a speedy return. He rode past the old inn where Catherine had died, and could not bear to go in, but on the way to Ingram Castle, it began to snow heavily. In less than ten minutes, he could not see a thing in front of him.
He was just beginning to panic when he saw the light from a crofter’s cottage in the distance. He sighed with relief and pointed the horse’s nose in that direction. In a few moments, he had stabled his mount in the barn and was welcomed into the cozy cottage. “
“Thank you, my friends,” he said gratefully. “I have no idea what I would have done had your cottage not been here.”
“Aye, sir.” The couple had introduced themselves as Ewan Logan and his wife Sorcha. It was Ewan who spoke, “Ye will no’ be the first an ye willnae be the last tae say that. We are right by the road here, but people drift aff it in the snaw. There wis ane poor soul we couldnae save though. Lady Ingram came very near here, but she wis completely lost an’ she never saw oor cottage. Her poor horse slipped in the snow an’ broke his leg an’ his neck fallin’ doon, but it took milady oors tae die. She had broken her ankle an’ couldnae move.”
Just then, Sorcha remembered something. “Sir, are ye goin’ tae visit the Laird Ingram?”
“Indeed, I am,” he replied, gratefully receiving a cup of warm goats’ milk. “He is a kind man. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“We were the anes who found Lady Marion,” Sorcha told him, frowning. “Such a lovely lady, an’ so kind. Efter they took her away we found somethin’.” She went to a cabinet and took out a golden heart-shaped pendant. On the back was a design of intertwined initials. “We think this belonged tae her, but wi’ ane thing an’ anither, we hae forgot tae take it back.” She looked at her husband and he nodded. “Wid ye tak’ it back fer us, sir?”
“How do you know you can trust me?” Munro asked, frowning.
Ewan pointed to the heavy crucifix hanging around Munro’s neck. “Ye’re a man o’ God, sir, an’ ye hae a face we can trust.”
Munro looked at the kind old face and smiled. “Then, Mr. Logan, I swear to you on the blood of Christ that this jewel shall be returned to its rightful owner and I am sure he will be very grateful to you.”
He was invited to stay overnight at the cottage and they each talked about their families and their lives. They were very different, of course, but they found common ground in their love for their spouses and children. When the Logans heard the story of Kendrick, they were almost as outraged as Munro had been.
“That evil man!” Sorcha cried, outraged. “He will swing for this, m’laird!”
Munro sighed. “It will still not bring my Katie back, but let us cheer up.” He took from his bag a small flask of whiskey and poured them each a whiskey. “To both of you good Samaritans! Thank you!”
Shortly after that, he went to bed on a straw mattress on the kitchen floor. It was the most peaceful night he had spent since Catherine had died. He left in the morning since the sky had cleared somewhat and gave them a Scots pound for their hospitality and his rescue. They were quite overwhelmed and thanked him over and over again. He left with a wave, leaving two very happy people behind him.
“Lady Ingram, how good to see you!” Munro bowed over Allana’s hand and kissed it then did the same to Edme. He stood back to look at them, one so fair and one so dark. “Mother and daughter, so alike, yet so different!”
“Everyone says that, m’laird.” Allana smiled then put her hand on his shoulder. “And how are you, m’laird? Are you healing?”
“Aye, milady Allana,” he replied and sighed. “Very slowly. I will be better when I see justice done to that evil monster!”
Just then, Gavin came in. He smiled at Munro and they shook hands. “I have something for you, m’laird,” Munro said, taking the necklace out of his pocket. “The crofters I was staying with told me it was yours and asked me to give it to you.” He dropped the jewel into Gavin’s outstretched hand.
Gavin put his hand over his mouth, and his expression was stunned as he looked at the necklace and then turned it over to see the engraving on the back.
“He was lying,” Allana whispered.
Gavin was still looking down
at the pendant, shaking his head. “I cannot believe it,” he whispered. “It was six years ago today, Allie.”
Munro was looking baffled, so Allana explained the situation to him. Munro’s face darkened and he clenched his fists. “I would kill him and risk eternal damnation,” he growled. “He is the devil in human form.”
“We will see him later,” she said soothingly.
Munro shook his head. “I must see him now.”
“Let us go,” Gavin agreed. “Let us confront him. He can do nothing to us.”
The two Lairds went down to the dungeon together. They stood in front of the cell door and looked at Kendrick together. He stared back at them, but his former insouciance had gone. He was no longer the self-confident, self-absorbed man he had been before.
Although he was given enough to eat and was allowed to wash and exercise, he looked bedraggled and thin. His beard was almost on his chest and his hair was long and tangled. He could have remedied either of these situations, but he had lost heart. Kendrick Muir, the confidence trickster, liar, murderer, and lecher, had died inside. He looked up at the Lairds resentfully as they came in and then rested his head on his chest again, drawing his knees up to his chin.
“Master Muir,” Gavin greeted him. “Are you well?”
“I am as you see me, m’laird.”
“Good.” Gavin reached into his pocket and pulled out the pendant, but if he had expected a reaction from Kendrick, he was disappointed. All he did was sit there and stare at them.
Eventually, he stood up. “So, I lied.” He shrugged. “I saw it when she was showing it to a friend at one of your soirées. I thought the information might be useful and it was, so I tucked it away for later use. Before you say it, yes, I am despicable, I am a monster, and I do deserve to die, so kill me.” He shrugged as if it was unimportant, but no-one was fooled.
“So, you did not lie with Marion?” Gavin asked tensely.
Kendrick shook his head. “No, although I wanted to, she was tediously faithful to you. And about the other thing? It was a guess. It just so happens that it was true. Your reaction told me that, but it could just as easily not have been. I took a gamble and won.”
The two men glared at each other in mutual antipathy for a moment and then Munro stepped forward. “I came here prepared to be angry with you,” he said, “but now I only pity you. You cannot ever know the meaning of true happiness.”
“Perhaps not,” he replied, “but I have enjoyed my adult life up until now.”
“At the expense of all the people you cheated and blackmailed and murdered!” Munro said hotly. “May God forgive you!”
“M’laird,” Kendrick said quietly, “I imagine that you had a fine upbringing. You come from a long line of aristocratic farmers and I am just—what? A common man? Yes, I am. But you see, unlike you, I inherited no title. I had no father. He ran away when I was very young, leaving my mother to look after me by myself. My mother had to sell herself so that we could eat then she became sick and died.
“The street was my home for a while, where I survived by stealing and begging until I had a stroke of luck. I was caught taking cakes from a baker’s shop, but instead of gaol, I was sent to a community of nuns who educated me, taught me how to read and write, and prepared me for a life in Holy Orders. I had no wish to live my life like that, so I ran away. I was eighteen years old and handsome but impoverished. I learned from the streets, as I told you. I could steal, gamble, and pickpocket, but I could also bargain, tell stories and trade. I also had an appeal to women. They liked me and I could use that.
“Gradually I honed all these skills and got myself a job in the wool trade while knowing absolutely nothing about wool. I learned as I went along, however, and I became one of the best buyers and sellers in Scotland.”
Munro stood and looked at him for a while, then a slow smile crept across his face. “You tell a wonderfully good tale, Mr. Muir, and I might have believed it if I had not heard your real story before. A pity you had not put all those undoubted skills of yours to better use—to honest use. You might not have been standing here now. I know you had a house and a wife. I know you had parents who cared for you. I heard it all from another Laird since your story is now spreading all over Scotland, so if you have achieved nothing else in your life, you have achieved fame or should I say notoriety?”
“I honestly thought you would believe me and perhaps have a little mercy.” Kendrick laughed softly. “I have no idea what is going on in the outside world. It seems that I have been here all my life.”
“I do not think you know the meaning of the word ‘honesty,’” Munro replied, “and I think the reason that you told me that story was because you have been deprived of the sound of your own voice for so long. Laird Ingram says you like the sound of it.”
Gavin had left to get some wine while Kendrick was talking and now came back with two glasses. Kendrick was eyeing them longingly, but he said nothing. Gavin handed over his own glass to the prisoner while Munro looked on, astonished.
“Why did you do that? He does not deserve it!” he said heatedly.
Gavin drew him away a little so that Kendrick could not hear them. “Because I wanted to.” His tone was weary. “It gives me no pleasure to do this to any man, even an evil soul like him. We have both lost our wives, one at his hands, one at the hand of Mother Nature. I thought I would feel happier seeing him suffer, but I do not. I am treating him humanely but not well and I feel that it is making me a lesser man.”
Munro patted his shoulder. “You are a better man than I am, Gavin. I would not have wasted food on him!” Then he stamped out.
38
A Christmas Present
Allana had decided to tell Gavin her news at Christmas which was now a week away. She had knitted a tiny pair of baby mittens which she intended to give to him on Christmas Day along with her news. Munro Douglas had gone home as soon as arrangements for Kendrick’s trial had been made since he did not want to spend the festive season without his children. Gavin had only been waiting for his arrival to set things in motion, so the trial date was quickly set to take place in the middle of January.
They were all relieved, especially Allana, who had always been aware at the back of her mind that Kendrick was there, just a few floors below them. It had always unsettled her. She deliberately buried herself in organizing a Christmas party for the servants’ children on the day that he was to be taken away so that she would not have to face him. He was bound by his hands and feet and a cart was sent for him. Allana knew that she would have to testify at his trial, but that was a mere formality. There was no doubt that he would either hang or die in prison. However, she was relieved that he was gone for now nothing could spoil her first Christmas with Gavin.
Allana wanted no fuss. There were no guests at the castle since she and Gavin wanted to celebrate alone. They had organized a celebration for New Year which would be a huge affair with both their families and all their friends. Munro Douglas had promised to try to come with his family, but he was unsure of his plans. Allana cared nothing about that. All she wanted was her husband in her arms so that she could tell him about the baby.
Christmas dawned, as it usually did in midwinter with a thick snowfall. Lying in bed with Gavin, Allana felt nothing but the warmth of his body and the cocoon of bedclothes. When she opened her eyes, it was to look into his green-brown ones.
“Good morning, my precious wife, and happy Christmas,” he murmured.
“And you, my darling,” she whispered. “I never dreamed this time last year that I would be lying here with you.”
“It has been such a strange year,” he replied thoughtfully, “full of love and hate and death—”
Allana stretched over and took a tiny box from her bedside table. Gavin frowned and opened it.“And new life,” Allana whispered.
For a moment, Gavin stared at the tiny mittens, and then looked up at her. He looked stunned. “You mean... Allie, a child?”
She smil
ed and nodded. “In the summer.” He crushed her to him in a tight embrace and then let her go just as quickly. She laughed. “You cannot harm it by giving me a hug or by kissing me or even by making love to me.”
“Thank you, my sweetheart!” He peppered her face with kisses. “Oh, Allie, thank you. All my life, I have wanted a son or daughter of my own.”
“Then I am glad to be giving you one, although you helped a bit!” she replied, laughing.
“It is the best Christmas present I ever received,” his voice was hoarse with emotion. “But I have nothing for you.”
“Then let us say that we gave each other the gift of a child.” Her eyes were shining as she looked at him.
He gazed at her tenderly. “Allie, my sweetheart, I have never been so happy!”
Looking into his eyes, Allana realized that all her dreams had come true.
Gavin could hardly contain himself. He felt like shouting from the turrets with joy, but he contented himself with going up to the chapel to say a prayer of thanks. That done, he looked out of the window into the lightening sky and tried to visualize his child. Would it be dark or fair? Allana’s family, with the exception of her, were all fair, but he and Allana were both dark. He laughed softly, scolding himself for being stupid. All he wanted was a normal, healthy baby. He was going to be a father, after all these years, and he was overjoyed. It had been a terrible year in some respects, but Allana and now the baby had more than made up for it.
Allana was in the dining room, drinking hot milk with honey and eating eggs with black pudding. He watched her for a moment, but she was eating heartily, with no sign of nausea and sickness from which some women suffered.
Presently, she looked up and saw him. “Gavin, I am sorry for starting without you, but I was so hungry!”
He laughed. “You are eating for two and for the next six months, you may do whatever pleases you, Allana. You are the queen of this castle and my heart.”
