Highland Storms (25 page)

Later that evening, Brice shut himself in the book room and retrieved the letters Ramsay had brought. He quickly read the ones from his parents and sisters, smiling at each one in turn. There was no momentous news, but they were all full of chatty anecdotes of everyday life which made him slightly homesick. It was good to know they were all well though and missing him as much as he missed them.

At the bottom of the pile, however, were the two letters from Elisabet and Jamie. Ramsay had insisted on handing them back after Marsaili had left the room that morning.

‘
Don’t be an ass, Brice, at least see what they have to say,’ he’d advised. ‘You owe them that much.’

Brice wasn’t at all convinced, but he’d taken them without a word. He hadn’t wanted to argue with Ramsay when he’d only just arrived. Now the urge to throw the letters straight onto the small peat fire that was burning in the grate was still strong. He’d been thinking about the whole
débâcle
less and less these last few weeks and reading these messages would just rake up all the hurt again.
What’s the point?
he wondered.

Then again, the memories and pain had come flooding back just by seeing their handwriting. And he had to admit to a morbid curiosity as to how they would justify what they’d done. He’d refused to listen to their explanations in Sweden. If he read what they had to say, then that would be the end of it and he could put them out of his mind once and for all.

‘
Damn them,’ he muttered. He stared at the letters for a moment longer before making up his mind. ‘Oh, what the hell …’ He slit open the one from Elisabet first and
started to read, scanning the lines of text with mounting incredulity.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but some sort of apology certainly. Instead, what she’d written was more or less a litany of accusations, claiming his ‘neglect’ of her had driven her into the arms of his brother. His ‘cruelty’ in leaving her for years on end instead of being there when she needed him and his ‘obvious indifference’ since he hadn’t cared enough to stay in the same country as her until she was old enough to marry.

Brice shook his head, laughed and crumpled the letter into a ball which he threw with unerring accuracy at the smouldering fire in the tiny fireplace near the desk. ‘Good old Elisabet,’ he murmured, ‘I should have known I could count on you to twist everything to your advantage. Father was right – I do pity Jamie.’ Not that it excused his brother’s perfidy, however. That was another matter altogether.

At least her letter confirmed what he’d suspected for some weeks now, that she wasn’t the girl he thought he’d loved.
What a relief!

Taking a deep breath, he opened Jamie’s letter, wondering if he too would try to justify his actions by blaming Brice. He hadn’t. Brice found only a few sentences and gritted his teeth as he read them.

No explanation, no excuses. Brice closed his eyes, overcome with emotion. Anger, sadness and regret warred inside him, but the wound was too raw and fury won. He couldn’t forgive Jamie yet and perhaps he never would.

With a savage curse, he flung the second letter into the fire as well, then stared into the flames as they devoured the paper and quickly turned Jamie’s words into ash. He wished he could do the same with his thoughts, so he could have peace of mind, but as yet, they wouldn’t give him any respite.

Forgive and forget? Maybe one day, but not any time soon.

Chapter Nineteen

The marriage of Kirsty and Iain took place ten days later, with Brice giving the bride away and yet another feast afterwards. The dancing and singing went on long into the night. Even the groom’s father seemed pleased with the proceedings, although Brice noticed he wasn’t too happy when Brice declared he’d keep hold of the dowry for now just to be on the safe side. He reckoned it would only be a matter of days before Iain was sent to ask for at least some of it with one excuse or another as to why it was needed.

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 single 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.