With the warmth of whisky sliding down his throat, Niall had a notion, but caution prevented him from saying aught, not caring to be thought too like his father. ‘I cannae see where the problem lies. Ye say she has plenty of silver, and she’s quite comely, though too much like Flora to look at for my taste.’
His father cocked his head as if considering the suggestion, ‘Aye, I never thought of that consideration, but it will make a guid excuse. Never mind that for now, though. Let’s just sit here and sip this braw Uisge beatha a while before I have to confront Snelling.’
Celestina
The priest kept her talking long after their initial discussion and confession. He was curious to hear of Spain and the priests at the church she had attended. It surprised her when the priest stood to answer a knock at the door then swung it open to allow Niall to enter. ‘It’s the Laird, lass, come to take ye home.’
‘The McDonall would like to meet Sellie,’ Niall announced. Thankfully, this happened to be one of the few times he was grinning as he mentioned his father’s name. ‘The two of us have come to an understanding. He has agreed not to interfere, and I’ve promised to name our first son after him.’
He held out his hand to the priest to shake, saying, ‘I presume all went well?’
Father Angelus assured him, ‘I’m happy to tell ye I can find nae impediment to yer marriage.’
Still grinning, Niall clapped him on the shoulder. ‘That’s settled then, the only holdup now is that the McDonall is feeling sensitive about the wedding taking place while Miss Corcoran remains at Inverbrevie. However, there’s bound to be plenty folk wishing to talk to ye, Father. Tonight I would be pleased to have ye join us for supper in the Great Hall.
She had seen Niall in this kind of relaxed mood before, the night he first came to her bed, but in contrast today, he appeared to have been celebrating. The priest obviously noticed as well, no doubt because the smell of Uisge beatha on Niall’s breath was hard to miss. ‘I’ll be delighted to join ye at table, especially if I’m to be allowed a dram of yer fine whisky. And mayhap before the marriage takes place, ye’ll be wanting to visit me for confession.’
Celestina was the one smiling as she laid a hand on Niall’s arm on the walk across the Bailey. Fortunately, Niall did not think to ask her why.
Niall
Sellie probably thought that the whisky was responsible for his grin; after all, she had experience of its effect on him—but she’d have been wrong.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this content, this fortunate. ‘The McDonall took a guid deal of convincing.’ He turned and gave Sellie another grin. ‘But I think I convinced him ye would make a better mother for the next heir than Isabeau Corcoran—nae that’s not the reason. I believe he’s beginning to have doubts about a man like Snelling being connected to the family. There’s something strange in why he’s willing to give the lass away only to someone from the Highlands.’
Niall was aware of nattering away to Sellie without getting any response, but then she probably didnae understand more than half the words he used. He told himself it was the best way to learn, the way she did with his daughters. ‘So,’ he continued, stopping to turn her to face him, ‘how did ye get on with the priest? I hope he didnae frighten ye.’
‘He was kind,’ she said quietly, and it dawned on him that she always seemed placid, expressionless, except when they were in bed or when playing and laughing with the lasses.
He enjoyed that in her, after some of the tantrums he had put up with from Flora. ‘That’s guid, lass, I want ye to be happy here with me and my daughters. I’m sure they love ye already.’ Slowly they resumed their stroll to the Keep and his father … and soon, thank God, his wedding. Strangely enough for a man whau had seen the worst of married life, he could hardly wait.
The McDonall strode out of the Keep. ‘Aha. So this is the lass ye have chosen. I cannae say I blame ye. She’s bonnie—reminds me of yer mother.’ His voice boomed out across the Bailey to them, surprising Niall with the mention of his mother. Magdalene McDonall had died when he had barely reached three years old, and his father seldom gave voice to her name. He had never married again. That said, he hadnae been celibate—that would have been too much to ask—but Niall had always wondered if what the McDonall shared with his mother could never be repeated.
Aileen had been mother in all but name to him and his brother, and she had arrived at Inverbrevie as soon Niall had sent word that Flora was with child. Like Sellie, the auld nurse had been a gift. One from God instead of the sea.
Chapter 17
Celestina
Releasing a sigh, Celestina at last felt she could breathe again. It appeared she had received approval from both the priest and the McDonall. Oh, to be married—to be able to express her emotions instead of hiding them behind a smooth, bland face, untouched by aught around her.
To be safe.
She could see that’s how Niall’s daughters felt. Even while Niall was away and their mother misbehaving with the steward, the lasses had always had Aileen. The woman was an angel who should be treasured, even if she did believe in Selkies and unicorns. Celestina wouldn’t be surprised if one day a white-horned horse were to arrive and lay its head in Ygraen’s lap.
Niall’s father had been muttering in his ear, words Celestina could barely hear, which made the sound easy to ignore, until the McDonall turned to her, saying, ‘I hope ye dinnae mind, lassie, if Niall takes ye with him and plays least-in-sight until I’ve had a wee word with Snelling.’ He glanced at Niall and snorted, ‘Or mayhap a lot of wee words. Yon Lowlander is a hard man and might take a bit of persuading. One thing he can be sure of, he’ll not be getting any money out of me, thus the need for persuading. Truthfully, he has nae need for complaint. Aye, he had a few days journey betwixt Edinburgh and Inverbrevie, but he’s been housed and fed since he arrived and will have to be satisfied with that.’
‘I dinnae mind, Father. Sellie and I can take a bite of food out of the way in the kitchen, then find something else to do until supper.’ Niall’s grin promised more than food.
She felt uncertain whether she liked his father being privy to the direction of his heir’s intentions. The McDonall’s sly smile proved her point, making her more determined than before. For a moment she almost spoke out, but Niall was before her, saying, ‘The lasses can join us. We should explain our marriage. I’ve invited Father Angelus to join us tonight. Hopefully he willnae mind being the bone in the middle.’
Celestina looked up at Niall to check his response. ‘We should talk to the lasses after lunch, time to tell them I will be their new mam.’
‘She’s got ye there, lad. I’ll see ye both at supper. Dress bonnie, lass. Ye have a lot of competition.’ Niall’s father walked away, his laugh a deep rumble that proved he took it for granted that his future daughter-in-law had won.
The midday meal consisted of vegetable and barley soup—a standby that naebody minded. The crusty fresh bread and jam afterwards always made Celestina’s mouth water. Everything was so different from the meals they ate at home in Coruña. Seafood, rice and spices followed by light syllabubs, fresh fruit and dates—ideal food for a warm climate—while at Inverbrevie the hot soup helped cancel the colder weather. She could see that cook was preparing a more exotic meal for supper and had Jean bustling about and the other kitchen maids chasing around obeying their orders.
‘Let’s go for that walk ye promised,’ said Ygraen while the other two gave their father sweet smiles and nodded their heads in approval. ‘We can show Sellie the ancient Pict house beside the loch.’
‘Aye, we could do that.’ Niall pitched a questioning look at Celestina, and she answered with a slight nod. ‘At least the weather looks like staying fine.’
Niall
Since Jack’s arrival at Inverbrevie, he and Niall together had ridden over a fair expanse of territory. Until now, though, he hadnae gone near the Pict house. Nae one lived there, so he hadnae thought to put examin
ing the ruin anywhere on his list, but he did remember the place where the lasses used to enjoy poking around while he fished, as well as keeping them out from under Flora’s feet.
As Ygraen had suggested, they walked. He had yet to try Sellie on a horse, uncertain how she would take to riding, so they took the auld narrow dirt trail, simple for him and the lasses to traverse, though Sellie’s skirts were inclined to catch on the bushes as she passed.
The job of releasing her from spiky brambles was left to him, so the lasses were soon well ahead of them. Frankly, it amused him to hear Sellie squeal when her attempt at tugging her skirt free wasnae immediately successful. ‘Hold still lass before ye create a bigger tangle.’
He got down on one knee by her feet, grinning because she jumped as his hand touched her ankle when he reached under her hem to lift her skirt away from a thorn that had pierced the fabric. As he pulled her free, it struck him what a poor, thin quality her skirts were compared to those worn by Isabeau Corcoran. He hadn’t wanted to see Sellie in Flora’s frills and flounces, yet, a laird’s wife deserved better.
Such a notion had never entered his mind before. Flora had simply ordered Gordon to buy what she wanted, and now he was aware why Gordon had complied.
‘We must get ye something bonnier to wear for our wedding.’
Sellie lifted her dark eyebrows in response, twin arches of puzzlement that made him wonder how much she actually understood of what he had said. He had grown used to speaking to Sellie without being exactly sure whether she truly comprehended, simply hoping she was able to read his meaning through the tone of his voice and his facial expression.
Leaning toward him with a hand on his shoulder, she kissed the top of his head.
Looking up, he saw the question lurking in her deep blue eyes. ‘Yer thinking we could never get a new frock made in under two days, but Aileen would take care of all that and chivvy folks along.’ He slid his palm down the back of her calf, cupped the heel that had slid from her slipper and pushed it back on.
‘They won’t mind helping, Sellie. Ye dinnae realise how well liked ye are. Everyone will be happy to help when they ken yer about to marry the Laird. Not for my sake, for yer own, I promise ye. As soon as Mistress Corcoran leaves, we’ll gather them all together and make the announcement.’
As he stood, she said, ‘I thank ye, Niall.’
‘Nae,’ he denied the need, and glancing down the track to see if the lasses were watching, he gathered her close for a deep kiss. As always, the feel of her slim curves fitting into him made him wonder how he could have been so fortunate. Brushing his lips across the full pout of her mouth, he slid his lips across her cheek to murmur her name close to her ear, ‘Sellie, there ye go for now, lass. I’ll thank ye properly tonight.’
Her lips curved in a smile. Niall recognised the effect of his kiss in the swelling of her lips, and the flutter of her lashes as she told him, ‘That will be braw.’
An answer that earned a quick swipe of his palm on her behind as they set off to catch up with the lasses through the arched branches of a group of red-berried rowan and beech with their leaves on the turn to bronze.
The auld Pict broch sat on thick wooden piers above the loch. Years ago, he’d been told the roof had been thatched and mended on and off, but not since Gordon had been steward. However, Niall was realising now that he couldn’t put all the blame on Gordon’s shoulders. He had been the Laird and hadnae cared enough, since he had always grudged the arrangement his father had made.
The lasses had come to a halt halfway betwixt the trees and the loch and were squabbling. When Fiona pushed at Beth, he decided to interfere, calling out, ‘Hey, what’s going on. Nae squabbling lasses. A fine thing for ye to be acting up in front of Sellie, for that’s nae way to be showing her how young lasses behave.’
They all hung their heads, and nae wonder. It wasnae often their Pa told them off. ‘Sorry, Pa,’ Ygraen began.
The others followed suit, very apologetic until Beth added, ‘Fiona found something and wouldn’t share.’
‘Well, I thought I saw someone in the broch, and they were going to run back and leave me until I saw something in the grass. But I found it.’ She could be stubborn, his Fiona.
All the same Niall was minded of the two dead strangers. ‘And whau did ye think ye saw?’ He kept his voice soft and lifted an eyebrow; neither he thought was likely to worry her.
‘Naebody much, just the lad Jean’s walking out with.’
That Fiona would ken everyone’s business was nae surprise; she was an observant wee lass. ‘Ach, well, that’s naught to do with me. She’s a guid maid, and as long as she doesnae neglect her work she’s allowed her own friends.’
By the time Niall had finished being reasonable on Jean’s behalf, he realised the afternoon was growing darker. A grey cloud had broached the other side of the loch and looked to threaten rain. ‘I think we had best turn back. The guid weather appears to be breaking, and we’d best hurry if we dinnae want to get wet.’ His daughters all turned to look, disappointment writ large on their faces. ‘If the three of ye run ahead, I’ll carry Sellie. Her full skirts keep catching on the thorns.’
They ran off, giggling, racing the weather while he scooped up his future wife and stifled her laugh with swift kiss. He felt glad of the opportunity to hold her in his arms again, using the thorns as an excuse.
With Sellie, he had found the unexpected. If he could, he would spend all his time in her company. Already he realised that any changes wrought to his life by the Armada were as naught; he would never return to France. Luxuries would become a thing of the past, and he found he didnae care, as long as he had Sellie. He would tell Jack at supper that night.
Chapter 18
Celestina
The weather won. They were five rain-soaked creatures, dripping water onto the flagstones in the entrance hall, yet they were not miserable, grumbling or crying with the cold. Nay, Ygraen, Beth and Fiona were dancing around Niall and Celestina, squealing, giggling their heads off. Niall and she weren’t much better. Indoors at last, Niall, having carried her all the way, swirled Celestina around, throwing a shower of water onto the floor.
She threw her arms around his neck and hung on to make sure that she didn’t go flying off onto the floor with the water. The moment she lifted her chin to look into his eyes she was captured, drowning in the blue sea of his eyes. Without a thought for the lasses surrounding them, she pulled herself up and, braced by his arms she kissed Niall, not a simple buss on the cheek but a full deep kiss where her tongue breached his lips.
Niall opened his mouth to cover hers as they slowly circled—her head spinning, eyes closed and seeing stars in the dark behind her eyelids—while, Fiona, promise forgotten, was shouting, ‘Sellie is going to be out new mam.’
The excitement was ended by a gruff bark from the McDonall, ‘Niall, what is this?’
Celestina’s stomach sank abruptly as Niall lifted his head and slid her down his body until her feet touched the floor. That’s when she saw their audience—not only the McDonall, but Snelling, Isabeau Corcoran and Jack Grant.
As usual, Isabeau looked perfect, as once Celestina had in the days before the storm that had taken her father and Rosalina. In contrast, she, Niall and his daughters must look like travellers seeking refuge from a cloudburst. ‘We were merely having a wee laugh over how drowned we look. Our walk became more hazardous than we expected, as if we had taken a dook in the loch instead of enjoying the view.’
‘Ahem,’ the McDonall cleared his throat, though it didnae take much of the roughness from his words. ‘A fine game that, kissing that lass in front of yer bairns and anyone whau might come upon ye.’
Before Niall could respond, an annoyed Fiona piped up, ‘I’ll have ye ken that Sellie is going to be our new mam.’ Poor lamb, she sounded more frightened than angry, especially when she fired a cannon into the contretemps. ‘If our auld mam could kiss Gordon, then Pa can kiss Sellie any time he wants.’
&
nbsp; Niall scanned the group filling the entrance. The big door remained open and the cold rain battered the cobbles in the Bailey, adding to the ruckus of lasses crying and Isabeau turning to Jack to hide her humiliation, a perfumed handkerchief in the hand held to her mouth.
From Niall’s expression, Celestina could tell the warmth had drained from his beautiful eyes, leaving only ice in its wake. His gaze fixed on his father, Niall asked, ‘Did ye not do as we discussed and speak to Mr Snelling?‘
He turned to Jack and the woman hanging on his arm. ‘I apologise, Isabeau, but the getting of a new mam for my lasses was settled well before ye arrived.’ He gave his father a firm nod that said, ye have to take yer share of the blame. ‘The McDonall hadnae visited for a while, not for years before Flora died, so he was unaware that I am already promised—hand-fasted.’
He took Celestina’s hand as if to emphasise the truth of what he told them. ‘If all of ye will excuse us now, we need to change out of our wet clothes.’
Nae one argued with him as he placed the palm of his hand betwixt Fiona’s shoulder blades and gave her a wee push in the direction of the winding stairs. When she opened her mouth to complain he told her, ‘I dinnae want to hear from ye again, Fiona. Ladies, especially wee ones, shouldn’t poke their nebs in other folks’ business, making fools of themselves by blabbing.’ They started up the stairs, but Niall wasnae done. ‘A lassie can get a bad name telling tales, so no more, do ye hear me?’
‘Aye, Pa, I’m sorry. I willnae do it again,’ a subdued Fiona responded.
Outside the master’s chamber, he halted. ‘Off the three of ye go. Get changed in the nursery, I’ve nae doubt the nursery maid will help after hearing all the kerfuffle and will expect to hear what happened. Ye can eat in the kitchen; that way I can expect not to be embarrassed at every turn.’
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