Amanda Scott (14 page)

Despite Lachlan’s many responsibilities, he was efficient, and Hector had journeyed to Isla in his round of the clan chiefs and others to be sure that all was in readiness, so little remained for the brothers to do other than looking over and approving the arrangements. As Lachlan’s right-hand man, Hector was usually the one to implement any plan that his twin concocted.

At Port Askaig, they found men and ponies awaiting them, and left at once for Loch Finlaggan, some five miles inland.

Until then, although the brothers had talked at length of the many things pertaining to the days and duties that lay ahead, Lachlan had remained unusually reticent with regard to Hector’s marriage. Having politely expressed his hope that Cristina was well, when Hector joined him in the lead longboat after his small convoy landed in Lochbuie Bay, he had focused their subsequent conversations on matters such as the number of boats each Isles chief would send to escort Robert the Steward, the ructions that had developed over the collection and sale of petrel oil, and other problems that had arisen since the last Council of the Isles.

Hector, uncomfortably aware of his twin’s relative silence on the subject of his unfortunate marriage, not to mention Lachlan’s apparent approval of Cristina as his bride, had been reluctant to broach the matter. Deciding to do so now, he said, “Ride ahead with me. I would speak privately with you.”

“As you wish,” Lachlan said. He was staring straight ahead, but Hector thought he detected a little smile and grimaced at the sight. If the situation amused Lachlan, he would never hear the end of it.

They rode some minutes in silence until he could be certain the wind would not carry their words to the others. Then, he said, “I do mean to seek an annulment as soon as I can. As I understand the matter, I shall have to apply to the Pope.”

“Aye, that is the proper course, but I’m not sure I’d advise taking it.”

Anger stirred, but he continued evenly, “Surely, you do not think I should simply submit to Macleod’s wicked deception!”

“I know it galls you that you let him dupe you, but since his scheme succeeded, I’m thinking that anything you do now to oppose it will make you, and therefore Clan Gillean, look like the villain in the matter. By all you have told me, Cristina was but her father’s innocent pawn. Moreover, I like her.”

“You are not the one married to her!”

“True, but my duty is to Clan Gillean, as is your own.”

“Then I repeat, do you truly expect me to play victim to Macleod?”

“Not if his trickery were widely known, but since he is unlikely to make it so, I expect you to handle the matter deftly, so that it does not reflect badly on our clan. I likewise expect you to understand that if you do seek to annul this marriage, Macleod is going to paint your actions in the poorest light possible.”

“Sakes, but you ask too much!”

“I ask more,” Lachlan said, looking at him now, his eyes narrowed, his tone sterner than Hector was wont to hear from him. “I expect you to do nothing in haste but to act instead as you do when you put any idea of mine into action. Weigh the merits of whatever course you decide to take, then do the right thing by Cristina.”

“You want me to keep her.”

“I want exactly what I said I want,” Lachlan said. “No more, no less.”

Hector wished briefly that they were still twelve, so he could wrestle his twin to the ground and force him to acknowledge his point of view. But he recalled that Lachlan had occasionally prevailed even in those days, merely by relying on his wits instead of his brawn. And now, to all intents and purposes, he was acting chief of Clan Gillean, so Hector knew that if he appealed to their father, Ian Dubh would support Lachlan and order Hector to do as Lachlan bade him.

There were times that Hector felt as if he were but Lachlan’s other half, much the same to his twin as an arm or leg, with no real identity of his own. Even his extensive lands and estates he owed to his twin’s wits, for they had come to him at the same time that Lachlan had won his own lands and power, as an addendum.

Such thoughts caused him momentary twinges of guilt when they plagued him, because he was loyal to his twin and to Clan Gillean. Even so, he thought Lachlan was acting the chief over him unnecessarily now, and the emotion he felt resembled resentment more than guilt.

Lachlan eyed him warily, and Hector suspected that he was accurately reading his thoughts. They each had an uncanny ability in that regard.

Moments later, when Loch Finlaggan appeared below them, marked at its head by an ancient standing stone, Hector said, “Macleod will be here soon, likely gloating.”

“Aye, he will, and MacDonald would keep peace with all the Macleods, because along with their Nicholson kinsmen and their close friends the Mackinnons, they litter nearly every northern isle. Moreover, Macleod of Glenelg wields power in Kintail, on Lewis, and with his cousin on Skye; and his grace needs them all, especially with the Steward’s visit so near and disturbances erupting on several isles over petrel oil. He would show the Steward that he keeps a strong hand on the Isles, and that because of that strong hand, the Isles will wholly support the Steward.”

“But few northern Islesmen support Robert the Steward, or have much admiration for any of the Stewarts, as his kinsmen begin to call themselves.”

“Exactly,” Lachlan said. “’Tis the very reason I want no scandal or upset at present. I will inquire quietly into this matter of annulment for you, beginning with our esteemed parent, who knows much of such matters. Anyone you ask yourself will suspect at once that you mean to set aside your brand-new wife, and few Islesmen will look kindly on such an act. You must also be willing to give cause.”

“She aided her father’s trickery,” Hector said, feeling instantly guilty at making such an accusation after assuring Cristina that he understood her dilemma. With a wry grimace, he admitted as much. “I did tell her I do not hold her at fault, so we should not use that against her.”

“Nay, for we both know how difficult it is, even when one has the legal right, to go against one’s parents’ wishes. To accuse her of abetting his crime would be hypocritical at best, and at worst, unnecessarily cruel.”

Much as he would have liked to disagree, Hector could not. In any event, he was content to hold Macleod solely responsible, although if Lachlan or his grace meant to forbid his calling the man to account for his perfidy, he would be furious. He understood that to pursue a feud in the midst of the Council would not be wise, but he could not let the man gloat over such a trick, so he would have to think on it. Usually, Lachlan did the thinking for both of them, but Hector was confident that his own wits would meet the challenge.

At Lochbuie, Cristina was enjoying herself. Never before had she enjoyed such authority. Hector’s servants obeyed her without question, as did the gillies and maidservants that Mairi sent to Lochbuie for her approval. As soon as Cristina had seen the longboat off to Glenelg, she had taken advantage of Mairi’s invitation and had spent a full day and night at Duart, where she met her new father-in-law soon after her arrival, when he joined them for the midday meal.

He was tall, gray-haired, and slender with shrewd blue eyes and a certain elegance of manner. Having discovered that both of his sons held him in awe, she was pleasantly surprised to find him unintimidating, his conversation engaging.

“That we have not met until now is not entirely Hector’s fault,” he said at one point with a gentle smile. “He invited me to the wedding, but I had submerged myself in historical documents and could not tear myself away.”

She smiled ruefully. “If you know the whole tale, sir, I am persuaded that you must be very glad to have missed our wedding.”

He shook his head. “Arranged marriages, no matter how arranged, often answer very well, my dear.”

He was so different from Macleod that she scarcely knew what to make of him at first. But he continued to make gentle conversation until the meal was over, and by the time he returned to his documents, she knew she liked him very much.

Mairi warned her that she would very likely not see him again during her visit. “He loses himself in his studies,” she said. “I have to send a lad to fetch him when meals are ready, and he always says he’ll be along straightaway, but nine times out of ten he forgets and I send food to him later.”

Ian Dubh surprised her that evening though, for he came to supper as well, and asked Cristina if she had any requests for him.

“If memory serves me, Lochbuie is poorly furnished, but I shall be returning to Seil soon,” he added. “I’ll tell my people there to set aside some things for you to look at whenever you like. Doubtless, you will find something useful.”

Thanking him warmly, Cristina decided that her husband was a lucky man.

After conferring about Lochbuie’s immediate needs, Mairi promised her a longboat laden with furnishings, and sent it two days after their visit.

Cristina expressed astonishment at both the speed and the wide selection, but the longboat captain assured her they were odds and ends that had been cluttering rooms at Ardtornish and Duart, and that Lady Mairi had said she could use them as long as she liked. Several colorful arras cloths accompanied the furniture, and these she ordered hung on the great-hall walls to warm that chamber.

In her explorations, she had discovered an empty tower room in the smaller of the two towers, and had decided that she wanted it for herself. Since no one else used it, she chose furnishings for it now to make it her own.

She had brought a few items from Chalamine, including a small chest of her mother’s with an embroidered cushion top that Lady Anna had worked with her own hands, and a knitted shawl that her ladyship had often worn. Cristina carried these to the chamber with her own hands and set them lovingly in place.

The chest contained her needlework, and she set it near a back stool, over which she draped the shawl to use for extra warmth when needed. The chamber boasted only a small open hearth and would doubtless be either unbearably smoky or chilly in winter, but for now the chamber was not uncomfortable, and she believed that with a heavy curtain over its sole window, it would serve her well.

At Chalamine, she had had no place to call her own, for she had shared a bedchamber with both Mariota and Adela, and every corner and cubby of the castle served a purpose she could not ignore. Even when she had found time to take a walk or a ride, as likely as not, one sister or several had gone with her.

For much of her life she had yearned for a corner she could call her own, a retreat or sanctuary to which she could retire when she wanted to think or just to be alone. Now she had such a place and loved it. Ashes and Soot seemed to love it, too, because they followed her whenever she went there and curled up in one gray-and-black ball, purring contentedly until she was ready to leave again.

Mairi had also managed to find her a housekeeper, a comfortable-looking woman called Alma Galbraith, who was kind and capable, and who even got along with Hector’s cook, Calum. He was clearly a man who took his duties seriously and who brooked no interference, but he also served meals that, while they might do well enough for men-at-arms and servants, were insufficiently palatable to suit Cristina’s notion of what was due to her husband and his guests.

Although Alma got along with Calum, Cristina soon saw that, as quiet and kind as Alma was, she would be no match for him. Moreover, the final authority in such matters fell to the lady of the household. Accordingly, knowing Mariota would complain bitterly if the food was not up to Chalamine’s standard, she bearded the cook in his kitchen the day before her guests were due to arrive from Glenelg.

“Calum,” she said, “I am hoping that my lady aunt and my sister will arrive in a day or two to visit, and the meals we have had until now, although sufficient, have lacked a certain variety of flavor to which they are accustomed.”

“Sakes, your ladyship, I be willing t’ cook up whatever ye like. Ye’ve only t’ tell me how ye want things prepared. The laird dinna care. So long as he has beef or mutton on the table, he’ll eat whatever ye put before him, so it did seem a pity t’ make the lads sweat over grand meals when simple fare pleased him as well.”

“Then if you like, I will give you some of the recipes from Chalamine,” Cristina said. “My aunt and sister will doubtless enjoy whatever you prepare as long as you manage to include a few familiar dishes just for them.”

With that matter satisfactorily resolved, she turned her attention to the bedchambers and decided that she would not try to add any more furniture until they had lived a few months with the items Mairi had sent. That would give her time to learn if Hector noted any deficiency or had particular requests.

The longboat returned the following day. Learning of its arrival as soon as it entered the bay, she rushed down to the landing to meet it, but the first person to disembark was neither Lady Euphemia nor Mariota.

“Where are Ashes and Soot?” Isobel demanded as she flung herself at Cristina and gave her a powerful hug. “How much have they grown?”

“Faith, love, they are barely ten days older than when you last saw them!”

“Cristina! How glad I am to see you again,” Mariota exclaimed, hurrying to her and hugging her. “I have missed you so much! Adela does everything wrong!”

“I’ve missed you, too, my love. I’m so delighted that you came.”

“Of course I came,” Mariota said, looking surprised. “I wanted to see you, and to see the place where I was supposed to live. Is it splendid? Shall I fall into a flat despair of envy over your grand estate?”

“Oh, my dearest,” Lady Euphemia exclaimed as a gillie assisted her from the longboat, “you should not say such things. Although I know you must be curious about Cristina’s new home, you should be more tactful in your questions, or better yet, you should wait for her to tell you what she wants to tell you. Not that I do not want to know the same things—Isobel, too, I’m sure. I wager you are surprised to see Isobel with us, Cristina, but if you were thinking when you sent your men to fetch us—and how very surprising
that
was, to be sure—that your father had already departed for Finlaggan, you were sadly mistaken, for he had not. Indeed—”