Finlay’s Duty
The Victorian Highlanders Book 2
Ellie St. Clair
Contents
Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Adam’s Call
A sneak peek…
Also by Ellie St. Clair
About the Author
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Also By Ellie St. Clair
Standalone
Unmasking a Duke
The Stormswept Stowaway
Christmastide with His Countess
Her Christmas Wish
Happily Ever After
The Duke She Wished For
Someday Her Duke Will Come
Once Upon a Duke’s Dream
He’s a Duke, But I Love Him
Loved by the Viscount
Because the Earl Loved Me
Happily Ever After Box Set Books 1-3
Happily Ever After Box Set Books 4-6
Searching Hearts
Duke of Christmas
Quest of Honor
Clue of Affection
Hearts of Trust
Hope of Romance
Promise of Redemption
Searching Hearts Box Set (Books 1-5)
The Unconventional Ladies
Lady of Mystery
Lady of Fortune
Lady of Providence
Lady of Charade
Blooming Brides
A Duke for Daisy
A Marquess for Marigold
An Earl for Iris
A Viscount for Violet
The Blooming Brides Box Set: Books 1-4
The Bluestocking Scandals
Designs on a Duke
Inventing the Viscount
Discovering the Baron
The Victorian Highlanders
Callum’s Vow
Finlay’s Duty
Adam’s Call
Coming Soon
Roderick’s Purpose
Peggy’s Love
Author’s Note
Finlay’s Duty was first published as Promises of Sunlight and The Chieftain’s Duty under the name Audrey Adair. It has been extensively revised, and I hope you enjoy every minute of it!
Prologue
1866 ~ Aldourie, Scotland
A chorus of shouts and laughter echoed through the stable and past Finlay, who grimaced as he lowered the pitchfork and flung another heap of dung into the pile in the corner of the horse’s stall.
He shook his head in dismay at the frolicking children, as he thought of them, although in reality his brother Callum and their cousin Gregor were a year older than he was.
Finlay rested his chin on his hands as he peered out over the stall door, gazing after the four carefree boys as they crested the hill, with his little sister Peggy chasing after them, curls flying in the air behind her. He sighed and turned to find the farmhand looking at him. He shrugged his shoulders in defeat and continued with his task.
There was much work to do, he had heard his father, the legendary Duncan McDougall, sigh to his mother, and not enough hands to do it. Finlay idolized his father, and since hearing his distress had vowed to do whatever it took to keep the house and land in order. In truth, he didn’t mind helping where he could. It gave him purpose, and he was proud of the work he did.
He wiped the dark locks of hair off his forehead and returned to the manure, but a flash of color at the barn door caught his eye. He looked up, rendered motionless when he saw what had captured his attention. It was the pretty blonde hair flowing behind the girl who doubled back to stop at the door when she saw him. Kyla.
“Hello,” he finally said cautiously to the daughter of the chieftain of the nearby MacTavish clan. Something about her always made him feel… on edge, though she also had a brightness to her that seemed to make everything a little less dreary. Even mucking a horse’s stall.
“Hello, Finlay,” she said with her usual enthusiasm. “Where is everyone? My father is here to see yours and I was so looking forward to playing with you all.”
“Down the hill near the loch,” he replied. “You’ll have to be fast if you want to catch them.”
“Are you coming?” she asked, her expression quizzical.
“Too much to do around here,” he responded, turning away. “Maybe another time,” he muttered.
He snuck a look back over his shoulder to see her shrug, and as she took off down the hill, Finlay had to fight the urge to follow and join in the play with his siblings, cousin, and the girl.
He had already told them he was too busy, however, and if he joined in now, Callum and Gregor would never let him hear the end of their teasing. They had sensed how much he looked forward to Kyla’s visit, and he didn’t want to give them reason to tease him than they already had.
He picked up the pitchfork, gave the horse’s nose a quick pat, and continued with his work.
1
Late September, 1882 ~ Aldourie, Scotland
“There’s a definite chill to the air this morn,” Finlay remarked as he and his brothers crossed the courtyard of Galbury Castle on their way to the stable.
“Much like every other morning these days,” his brother, Roderick, said. “Summer has left us and the autumn has set in. You must admit, though, Finlay, it has a certain beauty to it. The red and gold of the trees, the shimmer in the air when your warm breath hits it—”
“Wasn’t much of a summer though,” Finlay muttered, cutting him off. While Roderick was right on the beauty of the grounds around the tower house, beauty would be of little help in paying their debts and keeping the crofters of their clan happy. If Roderick could wax poetic regarding a solution, Finlay would be ever grateful. Otherwise, he didn’t want to hear his brother’s meandering thoughts.
They continued on to the stable, where they each entered the stalls to see to their own horses. They took pride in their renown as the finest riders in the area—how could one not be after having their father as teacher?
“A horse is only as useful as its rider,” Duncan McDougall always said.
Riding prowess was a required trait for any holding the McDougall name, which made it difficult for their sister, Peggy, who had struggled to ride her whole life. Riding was in the blood of a McDougall. At one point in time their skill had aided them in battle. Now, riding was primarily a means of transportation, althoug
h Roderick had been known to race in the odd contest.
Finlay snuck Hurley a sugar cube as he saddled him. The spirited black stallion had taken some time and effort to control, but horse and rider were now always perfectly in sync. Finlay wouldn’t admit how much he loved the stubborn horse, who wouldn’t allow another near him.
As they left the stable and trotted their horses down the well-worn dirt path that cut through the tall grasses leading out of the main courtyard, Adam fell in beside Finlay. His younger brother had a quiet intelligence that Finlay responded to more than he did most people. All listened intently when Adam spoke, for he never did so without putting in a good deal of thought on the matter first.
“How are you feeling about everything, Fin?” he asked, perceptive to his brother’s brooding silence. “I know you’ve always felt responsible for this place. Now you know it will truly be yours one day.”
“I still have trouble believing that Callum tossed us aside as he did,” Finlay responded, not directly answering his question. “I know we’re not in a great spot right now, but to leave behind your family, your responsibility, all you’ve ever known, for a woman? I can see why Father was shocked. I could never do such a thing, not with so many people relying on me.”
“Of course you couldn’t,” said Roderick, who had ridden up behind them and was listening closely to the conversation. “That’s why Callum knew all would be well. You love this place, and you appreciate the responsibility. He knew it would be better off with you.”
Finlay sighed. He had been as surprised as his father was to receive the letter that Callum wasn’t returning home from across the ocean. He had gone west to find their cousin, Gregor, and he had found not only him but a wife as well—a British wife. He said that together they had decided to stay in the Northwest Territories, and now Callum was going to be an officer of the law, of all things.
Finlay wondered whether this woman had devised some scheme to cause his brother to take such an action. How else could Callum have just left them all?
By staying, Callum had given up his claim to become chieftain of their clan one day. Not that there was much to give up, Finlay mused. They were barely getting by as it was and his father was more a landlord than anything else.
“The MacTavishes moved some of their crofters again,” said Roderick, breaking through Finlay’s thoughts. “Instead of livestock, they think raising Lowland sheep will bring in more income.”
They could be right, Finlay pondered, though he didn’t react to Roderick’s words. But they could be wrong too. He preferred to be cautious.
“There’s something else,” Roderick continued. “They are attempting a new scheme of sectioning off part of their lands and inviting Lowlanders or Englishmen to hunt in their woods, for a price of course. It seems they’ll be building a wall around part of their property.”
Finlay’s head swung around at the news.
“They are doing what?”
“I know,” Roderick said with a sigh. “I do not much like the idea either, bringing foreigners into our parts. But it could work.”
“To where did they move the people?” Finlay asked, his mind racing with the potential consequences. The MacTavish crofters who neighbored theirs were already living on fairly non-arable land.
“Close to the shore,” Roderick replied. “Bear in mind, these are only the crofters that remain, anyway. Many have left, for Glasgow or Edinburgh or even the Americas.”
Finlay sighed. It was the way of things now. Even his own cousin and brother had taken the easy way out, abandoning their home and their people.
“What do you think, Fin?” asked Roderick now, as always ensuring there was no silence to be had between them. “Do you think it’s time we moved more of our—”
“No,” Finlay cut him off. “We will not do the same to our clansmen. These people have supported us as their clan leaders for hundreds of years. We will not repay them by taking anything more away from them. What are the MacTavishes thinking, leaving their people to fend for themselves?”
“I’m not sure—”
“Niall has apparently given up on making any difference at all,” Finlay scoffed. “Rory is a joke, and Kyla—”
He didn’t want to speak of Kyla.
“Kyla does all she can,” Roderick finished.
The McDougalls had turned to raising sheep as well, but only used the land differently when a family left of its own accord. While they charged rent for the land farmed by the crofters, many went months without the ability to make a payment.
Duncan had forgiven much of it for many years, but it was now catching up to the McDougalls, as they were having difficulty affording the staff they hired for their own lands. The harvests were worsening and the potatoes were barely worth picking.
Duncan ensured, however, that his family lived a very conservative lifestyle, not like those of other chieftains he knew who were beginning to think themselves like the fancy lords in London, leaving for weeks on end to enjoy all that the big cities such as Glasgow had to offer.
“We best visit ol’ Mack,” said Roderick as they turned down the path toward the fields that held some of their sheep. “I heard he had a new calf last night and you know he would have had a time of it, but would have been too stubborn to ask for help.”
Mack McDougall, as he was called, was somehow a relation of theirs, although none of the brothers were quite sure in what way. With no children of his own, Mack continued to maintain his land and animals with very little help, although he obviously needed it so they had taken to checking in on him most days.
“What are your thoughts on the options available?” asked Adam, returning to their original conversation. “We are not moving the crofters, they cannot afford to pay more rent, and we’re running out of hands to maintain our own land and administer the rest of the holdings.”
He made a valid point. More than one valid point. Unfortunately, Finlay had no answer for him.
“We’ll manage,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster. “We always do.”
He would never admit it to his brothers, but inside he was as nervous as the rest of them on the fate of the McDougall clan. The difference, now, was it would become his responsibility, and not Callum’s, to do something about it.
He only wished he had some inkling of just what the next step should be.
* * *
Kyla urged her horse into a gallop, exhilaration growing within her as they raced through the trees. She bent low over the horse’s neck, evading small branches that reached out to slap at them when they hovered too close to the side of the path.
Every morning without fail, Kyla ran Cadarn through the MacTavish woodlands. While some enjoyed a cup of tea and a spot of porridge first thing, she found a jaunt through the woods cleared her head and stirred her blood better than any sustenance ever could. It was also time away from her father, a hard man who had aggravated her more than usual of late.
When Callum McDougall had remained in the Northwest Territories with his new bride, Niall MacTavish had been furious. At Callum, yes, and at the McDougalls in general, but also with Kyla. He berated her for not “securing” Callum while she had the chance, for not using her “feminine wiles” to woo him and make him stay, or, at the very least, come back for her and unite the clans in marriage.
How could she explain that Callum had never been particularly interested in her, and nothing she could do had ever made a difference?
Kyla had always understood that she had been spoken for, and she had been prepared to marry Callum. True, she had never felt any particular attraction to him, despite the fact he was handsome and charming and certainly a man who many girls would have fallen for. All the McDougalls had the same dark handsomeness as their father, though each in their own individual way. She liked Callum well enough and knew that she would have had an agreeable life with him—which was more than many had to be thankful for.
Callum, however, had always held himself back
from her. She had questioned why he had kept such distance. She had wondered if there was another woman he was harboring affection for, but apparently not. She supposed now that he had been of the same mind as she, except that instead of accepting their family’s plans for them, he had held out for something more. She was glad for him that he had found whatever it was he had been searching for.
And, if she were being honest with herself, it was some relief to be released from a marriage to Callum. She had accepted that she would have a marriage without love, but now that it would no longer be the case, she welcomed the freedom of choosing her own destiny.
No longer was her sole purpose to unite the clans together for the long-term prosperity of both of them. There were many issues within her clan, and she didn’t think she could shoulder the heavy burden alone. Had she married Callum, he would have been some help, but she was well aware that he had never had a head for the business of caring for the lands and the crofters who lived on them.
Now, though, thoughts of her future were running through her mind as she and Cadarn raced alongside the river. Her worry now was who was going to see to the MacTavishes. What was she to do going forward? Her brother, Rory, would be chieftain of their clan one day, which was a bit of a terrifying thought. While her father was formidable, Rory was happy simply sitting in the keep and watching the days go by.
Finlay’s Duty: The Victorian Highlanders Book 2 Page 1