Whence Came a Prince (43 page)

“We’ll not perish for lack of food,” Leana assured him. She’d seen Neda at work earlier, filling large wicker baskets with smoked herring, pickled beef, mutton ham, and hard cheese. The rich treacle scones would be enjoyed long before they grew stale, and the gingersnaps would keep Ian and his father happy.

Neda soon appeared, baskets in hand, with Willie not far behind her, bearing two cups of water. Rose gulped them both down without ceremony, then leaned forward to whisper something in Willie’s ear.

“Aye, Mistress McKie. I’ll not fail ye.”

“Good.” Looking more refreshed, Rose lifted her skirts, her eye on the front door. “I’ll only be a moment, Jamie, and then, please God, we may take our leave.” She hastened toward the house, her braid swinging behind her, Willie close on her heels.

If Jamie found their behavior curious, he did not say so.

Instead, he strode toward the wagon to oversee the last of the packing, motioning for the rest of them to follow. With Lachlan and Duncan gone, Jamie wore the mantle of leadership with ease, issuing orders without barking them and directing the servants with a sure hand. A small trunk was fitted into each corner of the wagon for balance, and
folded blankets served to pad the wagon bed. Strapped to the back was Ian’s crib, ready to be put into service each night.

Eliza strolled up with the child in her arms. “Ye’re the only traveler wha’ll be sleepin’ in his ain bed,” she told him. When Leana held out her hands, Ian reached for her at once, his face bright as a candle.

Rose came round the side of the house, grinning to herself and patting her pocket. Annabel joined them, her red hair neatly tamed beneath her cap, her eyes wide with anticipation. “Will we be startin’ suin, mem? ’Tis a
weatherful
sky.”

Jamie chuckled. “Your bonnets should spare you the worst of the rain.” He held out his hand. “Maidservants first. Your carriage awaits.”

Even with the
lowpin-on stane
and Davie Tait’s assistance, climbing into the wagon proved a most ungraceful affair. Annabel’s shoe slipped off the mounting stone, then Eliza misjudged the height of the side and caught her skirt, landing in a heap. Neda, who’d watched the proceedings with a furrowed brow, climbed in with great care, guided by both shepherds.

“I’m goin’ wi’ ye as far as Kingsgrange,” she explained. “I ken ye’ll help me not arrive wi’ onie broken bones.”

Watching the kind woman take her place in the wagon, Leana breathed a prayer of thanks that their parting would be delayed a bit longer. Of all the farewells this day, her final moments with Neda would be the most difficult.

Seventeen years ago when Agness McBride had slipped from this world to the next, it was Neda Hastings who’d held Leana’s hand through the long and terrible ordeal of losing her mother. Neda’s hands had also prepared her meals and pressed her gowns and combed her hair and taught her to cook and sew and spin. Less than a year ago when Ian McKie was born, it was Neda’s hand that had clasped hers once again, providing strength and courage through a long day of labor.

Dear Neda.
Leana might not miss her father. But she would greatly miss Neda Hastings.

Only the two sisters had yet to board the wagon. Jamie slipped his arm round Rose’s waist. “If you lads won’t mind, I’ll see my wife safely
boarded.” With that he swept Rose off her feet and handed her over to the astonished maids, who reached up to steady their mistress.

She blushed to her roots. “Goodness, Jamie!” The others laughed, for Rose was clearly pleased by her husband’s attention.

Then Jamie turned toward Leana and slowly extended his hands.

Leana held her breath.
Nae, Jamie.

He smiled and said, “Ian next.”

“Oh.” Her heart started beating again. After bussing the boy’s cheek, Leana handed him over to his father. “Who is going to his new home? Might it be you, Ian McKie?” She watched as Jamie leaned over the wagon side and delivered Ian into Rose’s waiting lap.

“And now you, Leana,” Jamie said, lifting her off the ground before she had time to protest and depositing her into the wagon with ease. “We’ll not have expectant mothers risking their bairns’ lives on this expedition.” He looked round. “Anyone else, or are five women and a young lad quite enough?”

Rose bent forward, inclining her ear to Ian’s babbling. “Your son says, ‘Nae mair lassies.’ ” She looked like a child herself, delighted to be embarking on an adventure.

Not all were blithe to see them leave. Willie, Hugh, and the remaining servants stood in a ragged line, bonnets in hand. Their faces were long, and the sadness in their eyes unmistakable. “God be wi’ ye,” Willie called out, his voice weak.

Leana reached out to shake their hands one by one as the wagon lurched forward. “The L
ORD
bless thee, and keep thee.” She did not try to hide her tears.

“Farewell!” Rose waved Ian’s little fingers with her own.

With Jamie leading on his mount, and Rab and Davie handling the wagon reins, they started down the drive at last, bound for the winding road west.

R
ainfall greeted them not half a mile from Auchengray’s drive. Big, warm drops splattered against the wood of the wagon as Rab called out to the horses, urging them toward the line of trees that banked the road.

Leana huddled beneath a blanket with her back to the driver’s seat, watching Auchengray disappear behind a gray veil of water. The rain muffled the bleating of the ewes. Odd to see the lambs gone and only their mothers remaining.

“Glensone,” Rose called out, waving as though Peter Drummond were standing at the window waiting for them to roll past.

Leana lifted her hand toward Troston Hill Farm, her heart aching.
Jessie.
So many farewells never spoken. She would write to their parish friends—few in number but loyal—and offer her apologies for their unexpected departure.

By the time the wagon reached the sheltering canopy of trees, Ian was miserable and whining loudly. Rose lifted him up. “Will you take him, Leana?”

“Gladly.” Ian crawled into her lap with a weary sigh, seeking the comfort of his thumb and his mother. “Not to worry, lad. The rain will leave us alone for a bit.” Leana took advantage of their leafy covering and removed her straw hat, shaking it over the side of the wagon.

Lochend soon came into view. Reeds poked above the rippling surface, and trees bowed over the shoreline, paying homage. On the western shore stood Maxwell Park, the finest manor house in the parish. In years past Lord and Lady Maxwell had singled out Rose, offering to
introduce her to society at their Hogmanay Ball. Invitations to Maxwell Park had ceased when Auchengray’s marriage scandal unfolded. Society closed its doors, and neighbors became strangers.

There were some things about Newabbey parish Leana would not miss.

When their wagon emerged from the trees, the downpour had already eased considerably. “Better,” Neda declared. The dark clouds were moving east at a good clip, taking the rain with them.

Jamie appeared moments later astride Hastings, water sluicing off his tricornered hat. He surveyed the group like an army officer assessing damage. “It appears you’ve weathered our first bout of rain. Maintain a smart pace, lads.”

The narrow track of road pointed southwest to Dalbeaty. Leana propped Ian up on his bare feet, holding him tight. “You’ve not viewed Lowtis Hill from this side. Look how big it is.” Ian tipped back his head, eyes widening, as if he understood her perfectly. “See the black cattle on those far hills?”

Annabel and Eliza joined in, finding new things for the boy to see, while Neda busied herself rearranging the stores in her baskets. After complaining earlier, Rose now sat quietly, mile after undulating mile, hands folded across her rounded waist.

The rain had all but stopped, and the sky had lightened in the west when the granite ruins of Edingham Castle commanded their attention. “Look, Ian.” Leana gestured at the decrepit tower house overgrown with ivy. “See that turnpike stair? Now it leads only to the sky.”

Jamie rode up, bearing a look of resolve. “Edingham Farm is across the way. As the lads and I have business here, Neda will take the wagon reins. I trust you ken the way to Kingsgrange?”

“I do.” Neda stood with the grace of a woman half her age. “Duncan and I have visited thar mony a time.” Rab and Davie climbed down to make room for her, taking their collies with them, as Neda settled onto the driver’s seat. “Yer ladies will be weel leuked after, I promise ye that.”

“I’ve nae doubt.” Jamie’s obvious fondness for Neda warmed his words. “Kingsgrange is fortunate to have chosen you as their new housekeeper. I’ve never known anyone more capable.”

“Weel …” Neda sniffed, lifting her apron to her nose. “I pray Duncan and I will find a guid hame wi’ the laird and his folk. Ye’ll not forget us, Mr. McKie?”

He reached for her hand. “Not in a lifetime.”

Bless you, Jamie.
Leana looked away, giving them a moment to bid each other farewell.

“We will meet at Buittle kirk in a few hours.” Jamie swung his mount toward the farm gate. “Rab kens a farm near the kirk where we can spend the night. I’ll ride ahead and make the arrangements once we’ve taken … ah, herded the lambs from Edingham.” He turned to face Leana, studying her so closely she felt her cheeks warming. “Are you strong enough to handle the horses? In your … condition?”

“I cannot ride in a saddle, but I can perch on a wooden seat and hold the reins.” She leaned forward to have another look at the draft horses. “Those are seasoned mares and none too lively.”

Jamie grunted, as if not quite agreeing with her. “Neda, see that she does not climb down from this wagon, for I’ll not be there to assist her.”

Neda pretended to scowl. “She’ll not move from her perch. Ye have me wird.”

“Rose, you’re to remain in the wagon as well.” Jamie nodded at each woman in turn before tugging on the reins. “Until Buittle kirk, then.”

The herds stood back as Neda called to the horses, sending the wagon forward. She seemed comfortable with her duties, and the horses responded to her lead as they made their way through the small village of Dalbeaty. The sway of the wagon and the steady clack of the wheels soon lulled Ian to sleep. Leana tucked a dry blanket round him and eased him onto the wagon bed next to her, then discovered her legs had fallen asleep beneath his weight. Feeling came back in her thighs with a painful tingling, even as the babe inside her stirred, jabbing her hard.

Her sister looked uncomfortable as well. “You’ve been quiet, Rose. Is something wrong?”

She rolled her eyes. “Other than leaving the only home I’ve ever known? And facing day after day of traveling like this?”

“Aye.” Leana smiled at little. “Other than those two things, are you well?”

“Well enough.” Rose looked the other way, ending their conversation.

Leana guessed the problem: Her sister’s birthday was in the morn. She would make certain the occasion was duly celebrated.

Once past Dalbeaty proper the wagon eased onto a northbound road and began climbing. Leana turned round to kneel behind the driver’s seat, her elbows resting beside Neda, her knees padded by a blanket. One nagging question would not be silenced. “Neda, are they expecting you at Kingsgrange?”

The older woman’s ever-present smile faded. “Nae. They’re leukin’ for us baith on Wednesday. But Duncan …” Her grip on the reins tightened. “Duncan bade me leave afore him. Said he didna want me at Auchengray whan … whan yer faither came through the door.”

Oh, Neda.
Leana touched her arm. “Duncan is a very wise man.”

“I canna help but worry what will happen tae that guid husband o’ mine whan yer faither kens the truth. Duncan says …” She cleared her throat. “He says, the wickit shall fall by his ain wickedness.”

“Duncan is right.” Leana offered Neda her handkerchief. “My father has brought this on himself. Jamie is not at fault for claiming his lambs, nor is Duncan to blame for helping him.” Saying the words, Leana realized she believed them. If righting such wrongs required diverting lambs to their proper owner or slipping away without Lachlan’s consent, so be it.

“The way o’ the wickit niver pleases the Almighty,” Neda murmured behind her handkerchief. “But I believe Duncan pleases the Laird. ’Tis a the man thinks aboot.”

Wanting to comfort her, Leana rubbed her hand across Neda’s back, grateful for well-trained horses that clopped along, needing little guidance. “Even if they are not expecting you at Kingsgrange, I know they will make you welcome.”

Neda’s smile returned. “Mary will pave the way for her auld mither. I’ll start by cookin’ a tasty puddin’.”

Leana laughed softly. “That will do the trick.”

Much as she longed to continue their conversation, her knees and back ached, forcing her to resume her seat on the wagon bed. She gazed across the river as they passed the mote, an earthen mound that
reminded her of molded pudding on a plate. Annabel and Eliza sat with their heads tipped together, speaking in hushed voices, while Rose had dropped off to sleep, napping along with Ian. Left to her own thoughts, Leana closed her eyes and prayed for Duncan in Lockerbie and Jamie at Edingham: two courageous men doing what they could to honor God and see justice done.

After a gradual uphill climb, the wagon reached the crossroads at Haugh of Urr, then continued on past Spottes Hall, surrounded with woods. The road wound through another two miles of rolling farmland before Neda eased the wagon to a stop at the entrance to Kingsgrange. “ ’Tis a fine property with a fine laird,” she said, nodding at the impressive gate. “He suffered badly whan the Ayr Bank failed in ’73, owin’ tae a’ the stock he held. But he recovered weel, as ye can see.”

Enclosed by a stone wall as tall as Jamie, Kingsgrange was far grander than Auchengray. The thought comforted Leana, knowing Neda and Duncan would live in such a place.

Neda rose halfway, then turned, helping Leana to her feet. “Sit here, lass.”