Amanda Scott (12 page)

“Petrel oil?”

“Aye,” Mairi said. “’Tis outrageously valuable oil—much finer than whale oil—that one obtains, unfortunately, by killing young petrels. The Isles teem with the birds, though, and kirks all over Europe and Britain use the stuff as holy oil for the sacraments. My grandfather, Angus Og, arranged to collect it for use on the Holy Isle and throughout Scotland, and my father sells it on the continent of Europe through the Hanseatic League, which is—”

“A collection of eastern nations that do business together,” Cristina said. “My aunt’s curiosity leads her to question the mendicant friars whenever they pass our way, so she knows about such things and tells us everything she learns.”

“I see,” Mairi said, smiling. “She’s as good as a tutor then.”

“Oh, yes,” Cristina said with an answering smile. “I shall miss her as much as I’ll miss my sisters, for all that my father thinks her a dithery fool.”

“I warrant she will come to visit you whenever she can,” Mairi said.

“I’ll walk up with you, lass,” Hector said to Mairi, cutting their conversation short. “I don’t like the look of those darkening clouds west of us.”

“Winter is not over yet, is it?” Mairi said, glancing westward. “I hope you will enjoy good weather for the Council of the Isles.”

“Won’t you be going to Finlaggan?” he asked.

“I’ve not decided yet,” she said. “I used to love sitting in on all the councils, but now I find myself more interested in my children. So, unless you mean to take Cristina with you . . .” She let her words trail off, raising her eyebrows as she did.

He shook his head. “She’ll want to settle in at Lochbuie, and although anyone may attend who wishes to do so, few men take wives or children to Finlaggan. Mayhap I will take her to Ardtornish for the Shrove Tuesday feast, but until then she’ll do better to bide at home.”

Cristina wondered at his using the term “home” but decided he meant it only as his home, not hers. Still, she was curious to see it. The Isle of Mull, with its lush green forests and soaring granite peaks, intrigued her. When Mairi invited her to walk with them up to Duart Castle, she accepted with alacrity, not waiting to hear what Hector might say about it.

He sighed, making it clear that he did not want to tarry, and she wondered if he feared that his brother might return betimes. He did not seem in any hurry to talk to that gentleman, but truly, she could not blame him for that.

Duart Castle’s great hall proved homey and inviting. She noted at once two gold pillows with embroidered black ships on them, and following her gaze, Mairi said, “Those were wedding gifts. My sister Elizabeth embroidered them.”

At that moment, three small children dashed into the hall, shrieking in delight at their mother’s return, and Mairi soon had her hands full.

Picking up the older of the two boys, Hector turned to Cristina and said, “This is Hector Og. Would you like to greet my new wife, lad?”

“Aye, sure,” the little boy said. “She’s a bonnie one. May I kiss her?”

Cristina laughed and turned her cheek toward him, but he caught both cheeks with his hands and turned her face to his, kissing her soundly on the lips.

“As you see,” Mairi said dryly, “he is Hector’s namesake in every way.”

Cristina grinned at the child. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.”

“I like her, Uncle,” he announced. “Bring her to see us often and often.”

“If you behave yourself, mayhap I will,” Hector said, putting him down. “We’re off now, Mairi. I’ll thank you for looking after Cristina whilst I’m away.”

“Aye, sir, I’ll do that,” she said, adding to Cristina, “And you must come to visit me whenever you like.”

“Thank you, I will,” Cristina said before her husband hustled her out the door and back down to the jetty.

The rest of their journey took less than three hours, and dusk fell before they sailed into Lochbuie Bay and she got her first glimpse of the tall central tower of the castle at the head of the bay. It was not as formidable-looking as Duart, for although it sat on a knoll overlooking the bay, it commanded only the bay, but she suspected that its views included an expanse of the sea beyond.

The jetty was sheltered, the nearby water calm. They disembarked and walked up a flight of stone steps to the top of the knoll, then through a tall gateway in the curtain wall and up wooden stairs to the castle’s main entrance. Inside, a winding stone stairway led up to a sprawling great hall that to Cristina, accustomed as she was to the homelike clutter of a careless father and seven active younger siblings, seemed stark and unwelcoming.

Scarcely giving her a minute to orient herself, Hector said, “What do you think of the place?”

“It’s . . . it seems very large,” she said, hoping that its size was the factor he had expected would impress her most.

“Aye, it is,” he said. “It is also astonishingly tidy, if I do say so.”

“I expect it is, sir. You do not have a houseful of rowdy children.”

He grinned. “My lads are rowdy enough. You should have seen it before I made them clean it up. The place needs a housewife’s firm hand, believe me.”

She nodded. “If by that you mean that I may do as I please here, I welcome the opportunity. It is a fine, spacious hall.”

“I thought so,” he said, nodding. “Art hungry, lass?”

“I’m nigh to starving,” she admitted.

“You, there,” he bellowed to a gillie who hurried in just then, “bring food for her ladyship and your master, and quickly!”

“Aye, laird. There be a roast on the spit, so we’ll bring it out straightaway.”

The lad was as good as his word, and food came speedily, but to Cristina’s fastidious taste, the roast had been on the spit hours longer than necessary and lacked flavor. Since the sun still set by five o’clock, she doubted the dry meat had resulted from not knowing when to expect them. Resolutely, she ate what they served her, wondering why they provided no sauces and why the bread was stale. Hector had been away only a short time, after all. Realizing she had her work cut out for her, she hoped he had meant what he said about giving her free rein.

After supper, he showed her to a bedchamber across the landing from his own. She had forgotten to ask him about finding a maidservant, but she needed none to undress herself, and as tired as she was, wanted only to go to bed. Although the room was small, the bed was comfortable, and she slept well.

The following day, Hector spent the morning showing her the rest of the castle, most of which seemed sadly neglected. Their bedchambers lay on the same level as the hall but in a smaller tower that adjoined the main one, forming an L. A protective curtain wall rimmed with a plank wall walk extended from the residential towers to form a rectangle. Inside it stood the kitchen, bake house, and a spring-fed well. Ponies, sheep, and a few milk cows occupied a railed pasture outside the wall.

Hector seemed content enough to have her there and had not once mentioned Mariota. Cristina knew what her sister would have thought of Lochbuie.

Mariota would not see the possibilities suggested by the great hall, let alone by the rest of the castle. Given time, Cristina knew, she could turn it into as homey and welcoming a place as Duart was, but such a task would have irked Mariota. She would expect Hector to turn it into a rich man’s dwelling without troubling her to do anything more than tell him what she liked and did not like. But Cristina knew better than to say any such thing to Hector, even if she had been willing to speak so disparagingly about her sister.

The following day, Lachlan Lubanach arrived as they were sitting down to their midday meal. She had suggested to her husband’s cook that he delay putting the roast on the spit until after they had broken their fast, and that he might also provide fresh salmon if possible. Clearly eager to please her, the cook had explained that the laird preferred mutton or beef for his dinner but that he was sure someone could catch a fish for her ladyship. Satisfied that she had established some rapport with the man, Cristina looked forward to enjoying her dinner.

When a gillie announced Lachlan, she saw Hector stiffen, but he greeted his twin with evident delight nonetheless, and endured a hearty clap on the back and a demand that he introduce his bride at once.

Lachlan’s greeting was all that Cristina might have wished, but she grew tense waiting to learn if Mairi had explained matters to him or not.

She did not have to wait long.

“Did she tell you?” Hector demanded before Lachlan had even sat down.

“Aye, of course she did,” he said, adding with a grin, “I thought you were a gowk, but I see now that you’ve struck gold. Clearly, you were mistaken about which sister is the beauty.”

Startled, Cristina looked sharply at him but could detect no lack of sincerity. His eyes were as deeply blue as Hector’s, but they twinkled more mischievously than did even the lady Mairi’s. Indeed, so much did they reveal of his delight that she could not doubt his approval.

“You are kind, sir,” she said, “as kind as your lady wife. But you cannot approve of the manner in which we deceived your brother.”

“Of course I can approve of it,” he said, grinning at her. “Do you know how seldom it is that anyone gets the better of Hector? Why, I have been trying to do so off and on all my life, ever since he beat me into the world by twenty minutes or so, but I rarely can manage to do it.”

“And nearly always suffer grievously for trying,” his brother added grimly. “Have done, will you? Mairi said it best when she said, ‘What’s done is done.’ I mean to look into the possibility of an annulment, but I don’t want to make a fuss about it. Can you help me with that?”

“I don’t know that I should,” Lachlan said, eyeing Cristina in a more measuring way. “You may think yourself a fool for having married a lass other than the one you expected, and I always approve when you realize that you, too, can do foolish things. But I’m thinking you’d be a worse fool to cast this one back.”

“I’ll thank you to let me decide that, my lad, and since I’ve had about enough of your sauce, you’d do well to refrain from further speculation on the matter.”

“Oh, aye then, I’m mum. What have you learned to aid us at Finlaggan?”

Realizing that the two men had much to discuss before their departure for the administrative hub of the Lordship of the Isles, Cristina left them to their discussion and went in search of the housekeeper. Discovering that the castle boasted no such creature, she decided that the need to acquire one would provide the first test of her husband’s suggestion that she could do as she pleased with the castle.

Waiting only until Lachlan was preparing to depart for Duart, she rejoined them and said, “I was wondering if perhaps, between the two of you, you might help me resolve a problem or two.”

“What is it, lass?” Hector asked.

“As you know, sir, I brought no waiting woman with me, thinking that your housekeeper would surely know someone suitable to take up the position. But I have just discovered that—”

“That he has no housekeeper,” Lachlan said, chuckling. “I am in your debt now, madam, because my lady wife charged me to discover if there be aught we can do to help you make yourself comfortable here, and she specifically mentioned the dearth of maidservants and women in general at Lochbuie. She said to assure you that betwixt Ardtornish, Duart, and various Maclean kinsmen on the island, she can help you acquire a full complement of servants for this benighted place.”

“I shall be most grateful to her if she can,” Cristina said. “Apparently the castle has housed only men until now.”

“Aye, so my lass pointed out to me,” he agreed. “And since his men are nearly all men-at-arms, Mairi feared you would find the place sadly lacking.”

“Oh, no, sir,” Cristina replied instantly. “The castle is magnificent, and I found it particularly clean and tidy. No one would guess that only men had lived here, let alone only fighting men. That it bears no other woman’s stamp can be only an advantage. I should do my best not to tread on anyone’s toes, of course, if that were necessary, but you cannot imagine how free your brother has made me feel to do as I like here. I shall certainly welcome Lady Mairi’s help in finding a proper housekeeper and maidservants though, I promise you.”

“Faith, I’m just glad you brought the subject up,” Lachlan said. “She would have handed me my head in my lap had I forgotten to deliver her message to you.”

“Might have been an improvement,” Hector muttered.

Lachlan shot him a look but made no reply, taking polite leave of Cristina instead and telling her not to worry while they were away at Finlaggan, that she would be perfectly safe at Lochbuie.

When he had gone, she realized that Hector was regarding her quizzically.

“What is it, sir? Have I a smudge on my cheek—or worse?”

He smiled then, making her wish that he would do so more often, because the smile lit up his face and set twinkles dancing in his eyes.

“Nay, there is no smudge,” he said. “I was just feeling neglectful for not realizing that you might be worried about staying here alone whilst we’re gone.”

“I shall hardly be alone,” she pointed out. “Moreover, I’ll have much to occupy me and Lady Mairi to bear me company when I desire it.”

“As to that, lass,” he said so seriously that she wondered if he meant to forbid her to travel to Duart, “I would have you take care.”

“Is the Isle of Mull not safe then?”

“’Tis safe enough in general,” he said. “But you will soon note that Mairi does not travel about the isle alone, and I do not want you to either. Clan Gillean is not the only one here, and some of the others enjoy making mischief.”

“What do you advise me to do?” she asked.

“Take at least two armed men when you travel about on horseback, and do so only in daylight with clear weather. When you visit Mairi, you will go by longboat and stay overnight, just as she will likely do when she visits you here. The journey can be done both ways in a day, as you have seen, but doing so at this time of year would leave you little time for visiting before nightfall.”

“Very well, sir. I will do as you suggest.”

“Sakes, lass, that was not a suggestion but a command.”