Authors: Lord of the Isles
With that, he turned and left the hall.
Cristina stood for a long moment, staring thoughtfully after him, wondering if he thought she had no common sense or if he just liked issuing orders. Her father, she had long since come to realize, was of the latter sort, with the result that few of his daughters paid much heed to his commands when his back was turned.
She had tried to teach the younger ones filial duty just as her mother had taught her, but since Macleod often issued contradictory orders and would not tolerate discussion, she had found it impossible to insist that they follow every one. In time, they had all learned to obey him while he stood over them, but otherwise they tended to ignore his commands unless he made it clear, as he had over the business of her marriage to Hector Reaganach, that he meant to be obeyed.
Hector was another matter. He would not be at Lochbuie to enforce his commands for at least a sennight, if not longer. Still, he was not the sort of man who would issue contradictory orders or who would tolerate defiance. So far, his orders had been reasonable, even the one that had made her grit her teeth. Nevertheless, she was accustomed to making the decisions when it came to running a household, and she knew she would not relish having him constantly putting his oar in.
It occurred to her then that Lachlan was also clearly in the habit of issuing orders and seeing them instantly obeyed. Yet Mairi just as clearly had a mind of her own and might well, therefore, provide excellent advice about matters even more important than housekeepers and maidservants.
Accordingly, early the following morning, after waving good-bye to her husband, her brother-in-law, and their several longboats full of oarsmen, she summoned a gillie and gave him a message to carry to Duart, asking her ladyship if it would be more convenient for Cristina to come to her or for Mairi to journey to Lochbuie. The answer came that very afternoon in the shape of Mairi herself.
Entering the hall with a brisk step and a wide smile, Mairi exclaimed with evident delight, “Here I am, my dear. Your people are looking after my oarsmen, and I mean to stay the night, so we can get to know one another comfortably!”
I
fear we’ve paid small heed to how Hector was living here,” Mairi said as the two ladies sat at the high table in the hall enjoying their supper after Cristina had shown her guest over the castle. “He always comes to us at Duart, or Lachlan comes here, so I’ve not visited Lochbuie since I was a child first learning to ride my pony. My gillie, Ian Burk, would let me ride to the top of a hill, where we could look down on Lochbuie, which was one of my father’s holdings then.”
“Does not his grace own all the Isles?” Cristina asked.
“As Lord of the Isles, he controls nearly all, but some holdings are heritable, including my husband’s and yours,” Mairi said. “Others, such as the Mackinnons here on Mull, hold theirs at my father’s pleasure. He wields power across much of the western mainland, too, including Kintail,” she added, “which is why your father serves as one of his councilors.”
“Lachlan Lubanach and Hector serve as councilors, too, do they not?”
“Aye.”
“But is not Ian Dubh Maclean still living?” Cristina asked.
“Aye, sure, he is. In fact, he is presently with us at Duart, where he is happily studying some documents he found recently, which apparently detail events that took place whilst Robert the Bruce was beginning to unite Scotland.”
“Ian Dubh is interested in such things then. My aunt told me that the Macleans are one of the learned clans.”
“Aye, they are, but if you are wondering at the power Lachlan wields, I should tell you it derives primarily from his relationship with my father. However, Ian Dubh has also named him to succeed as chief of Clan Gillean, and he has assumed much of the power of that position already because of his father’s lack of interest. He and Hector began to serve as his ambassadors to the annual Council of the Isles at Finlaggan some years ago. Hector now assumes that duty alone though, because Lachlan’s position as Lord Admiral assures him a seat at the council table.”
Cristina nodded, storing the information away for future reference. She had enjoyed showing her guest around the castle, because she quickly saw that Mairi had even more experience than she did with managing large households. They had discussed furnishings and maintenance, as well as stores and cleaning, tenant needs, gardens, the number of servants she would require, and other such important topics. At one point, Mairi had suggested that Cristina make a list of items she would like to have to furnish the barren rooms more comfortably.
“Hector will be bringing visitors home frequently now,” she said. “With a wife to see to their comfort, he will doubtless want to entertain more often.”
“Will he?” Cristina asked, frowning. “You know that he does not look upon me as his true wife. You were kind not to inquire about my having a separate bedchamber, but surely you noticed that I do.”
“That is not unusual,” Mairi said bracingly. “My sister Marjory has a separate chamber, and I’ve heard of others who do as well. Most husbands sleep with their wives in the great chamber, of course, except in very large establishments, where they often sleep in an inner chamber behind it. At Finlaggan, my mother sought a separate chamber long ago so she could sleep through the night, because my father carries on business at all hours in the great chamber. He sleeps with her in the inner chamber now, though, and his man fetches him to the great chamber whenever someone needs him.”
Cristina knew her guest was just being polite, but she had grown fond of Mairi in the short time she had known her, and she felt comfortable enough now to dismiss the gillies who hovered about in case they required anything, and to say, “I have a question of a more personal nature I’d like to ask you, if I may.”
“Faith, ask me anything that comes into your head.”
“Hector issues orders as if I were a person lacking a brain. My father is also a domineering man, but he expected me to make household decisions on my own without pestering him, and when he gave an order that went against common sense, I ignored it and did as I thought best when he went away again.”
“Has Hector given orders that go against common sense?”
“No,” Cristina said. “They seem perfectly reasonable, but I cannot imagine that we shall always agree. I have told him I will honor my vows and obey him as any wife should obey her husband, and I mean to do so, but I own, his manner does tend to set my teeth on edge. I am not temperamental by nature—”
“That is plain to the meanest intelligence,” Mairi interjected with a chuckle. “I’ll warrant that he treats you exactly as he would treat one of his men-at-arms, albeit with more civility. Lachlan tends to be much the same. Faith, but most men are like that, I believe. I remember when Lachlan and I first met and became attracted to each other, he frequently told me to leave everything to him, not to bother my head about anything. Since I had been accustomed to conferring with my father and brothers about anything that concerned me in the slightest, I thought it absurd for him to tell me I should stop being involved in such decisions. I firmly believe that two heads are better than one when any thinking must be done.”
“What happened?”
Mairi smiled. “He eventually came to trust me. Hector will do the same if you are patient.” Her smile widened to a grin. “Not that I was in any way as patient or tolerant as you seem to be. I once pushed Lachlan into the Sound.”
“You didn’t!”
“I did.”
Cristina tried to imagine what Hector would do if she should ever try to do such a thing to him. “What did he do?”
Mairi laughed. “Fortunately for me, I made good my escape before they pulled him out, and by the time we met again, he had other things on his mind. He has warned me, however, that I must never do such a thing again if I want to avoid serious consequences. I just said he’d better behave if he wants to stay dry.”
Cristina shook her head. “I envy you your easy relationship with him. I want to make up to Hector for the wrong I did him, but part of me wishes that I could tell him to his face that I do not like having orders flung at me.”
Mairi shrugged. “But you
should
tell him. I doubt that he will eat you, and as for making it up to him for your father’s wrongdoing, you cannot. Although I agree that you had choices you might have made differently, I’ll warrant that nothing you did would have swayed Macleod from his course. Do you honestly think you could have held out against him, as determined as he was, and as superstitious as he is?”
Cristina opened her mouth to say that of course she could have, but common sense intervened. Compared to ignoring Macleod’s orders when they were contrary, standing up to him when he was truly determined, and angry, was another matter. She had no doubt that he would have beaten her and Mariota as well, and although she might have endured her own punishment without changing her mind, she knew that in the end he would have forced her submission to his will.
At last, with a grimace, she said, “I would have given in.”
Mairi nodded. “My husband says that the most important thing in life is learning to recognize necessity, to understand when it exists and when it does not. I have come to see much wisdom in that philosophy.”
“They do say that Lachlan Lubanach is very wise,” Cristina said.
“They say wily rather than wise, but I do think he has great wisdom.”
They continued to talk comfortably, and Cristina found herself confiding more in Mairi than she ever had in anyone else. Her aunt’s distracted nature did not lend itself to confidences, nor did that lady encourage them. As to her sisters, Adela was a sympathetic listener, but she shared so few of Cristina’s responsibilities that Cristina disliked burdening her with her worries or dreams, and Mariota had time for no one’s thoughts save her own. Since she regularly laid her problems at Cristina’s feet to solve for her, Cristina rarely mentioned her own.
She realized as she prepared for bed that night that, despite her large family, she had led a lonely existence before meeting Mairi of the Isles. Evidently, Mairi realized it, too, because the next afternoon, as she prepared to go, she said, “You must come to me now, and soon, but I’ve been thinking that perhaps you might like to invite one of your sisters or that delightful aunt of yours to visit Lochbuie. They might enjoy helping you pull the place into order, and I think you miss them. This place will be less lonely if you have some familiar folk about you for a time.”
Cristina thought about that advice only briefly before deciding to follow it. Summoning Hector’s steward, a worthy man who seemed to know his business well and had willingly advised her on one or two matters pertaining to Lochbuie’s tenants, she asked him how she should go about extending her invitation.
“Ye’ve only t’ tell me what ye want t’ say t’ them, m’lady, and I’ll send a boat up t’ Glenelg as soon as ye like.”
She almost asked him if he did not have to request permission from Hector before sending his longboats off to other Isles or the mainland, but quickly decided she would be foolish even to bring up that subject. Instead, she said, “That is what I will do then. Can the boat also bring them here?”
“Aye, sure, if that be your will.”
“It is,” she said. “How long will it take?”
“A day up and a day back, plus what time it takes your kinfolk to prepare. How many guests d’ye mean to invite?”
“Only two, I think. One sister and my aunt.”
“Then I need send only the one boat. If ye’ll give me their names, and what message me lads should deliver t’ them, I’ll send it off at dawn tomorrow. They may return day after tomorrow by suppertime, but more likely the day after. I’m guessing they’ll want a bit o’ time t’ pack their things ’n all.”
The speed with which the steward could grant her wish gave her instant second thoughts. What would her aunt think? More to the point, what would Macleod think? Then she recalled that Macleod, like Hector and Lachlan, would likely be on his way to Finlaggan already. Therefore, she could not invite Adela, who had been her first choice, because that would leave Mariota in charge of Chalamine and the children, which would not do. She loved her dearly and missed her, but she knew her faults, and knew also that Mariota would loathe having so much responsibility thrust upon her, whereas Adela would accept it with ease.
Realizing that she did miss Mariota, she decided that she would let her decide if she wanted to visit Lochbuie. Her first inclination was that Mariota would be uncomfortable, as she would be herself, but a few moments’ thought told her that her sister, as practical as she was about most things, would already have dismissed Hector from her thoughts. He was now, after all, Cristina’s husband, and thus surely no longer of interest to Mariota. And Mariota would enjoy the journey and the chance to flirt with an entire longboat full of muscular oarsmen.
As for Hector himself, she thought he would be pleased to have Mariota at Lochbuie. Her own feelings were mixed, because she could not be certain Mariota would not flirt with Hector and speed him on his way to an annulment. But she would certainly be disappointed if Cristina invited any of the others without inviting her, and thus the decision seemed to make itself.
Her mind made up, Cristina issued her first real command as Lady Maclean to the patiently waiting steward, and the next morning at dawn, she watched the longboat sail out of the bay on its way to Kyle Rhea to fetch her aunt and sister.
Hector and Lachlan arrived at Port Askaig, the harbor nearest Finlaggan, days earlier than his grace’s other councilors, because as master of his household, Lachlan was responsible for seeing all in readiness to receive the other councilors, their entourages, and anyone else who cared to attend the Council of the Isles.
The administrative hub of the Lordship occupied two islets in Loch Finlaggan, a pleasant sheet of water set amidst woodland and heathery hillsides on the Isle of Isla, fifty miles south of the Isle of Mull. The palace complex occupied Eilean Mór, the larger of the two, while the Council held its meetings on the smaller one, on which stood the massive stone table of the great Somerled, the first man to unite the Isles. That union had lasted only until shortly after Somerled’s death two hundred years before, but MacDonald of the Isles had skillfully re-created it and had ruled it successfully now for forty years.