Full Mackintosh
Page 17
“I ken ye, there’s more.” He leaned against the doorframe.
“Did milady tell ye she lost a bairn, when they come to tell us ye was captured and fatally wounded?”
He ran both hands through his hair. “Nay, she failed to mention that.”
“She didn’t wan’ ye worried. She fought the grief of the lost child and fear fer ye, ran the Chattan, while yer fine friend was off stabbin’ yer back. Ye need to see yer sympathy falls on the right heart, not the deceivin’ ones.” She turned abruptly and left him standing in the hallway. When she reached the dining room door she heard the children inside. She waved a hand at him, “Get on in ’ere, sire.”
He obeyed, walking through the gallery, he missed for more than two months, past his watchful collies. At the door, he listened to his daughters’ chatter for a moment. He bowed his head and flung the door wide.
He growled a greeting. “What’s this then? Who’re ye to be up so late?” He strode to Jessica, scooped her up into his arms as Mallow grabbed him around the waist. Ewan sat contentedly on Amalie’s lap, watching.
“Da!” Jessica squeaked, as she clung to him.
“We’ve missed ye somethin’ awful!” Mallow cried, as Garth sat in the nearest chair to gather both girls into his lap.
“What have ye been doing to yer brother that scares him so much he doesn’t want to come see Da?” Garth watched his son across the table.
Ewan grinned and glanced up at Amalie. She helped him to the floor. He toddled toward Garth on chubby legs, elbows tucked up to his side. Garth wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into the clutch. He buried his face, in the midst of his children, laughed, and wept.
Amalie rose to stand behind him, kissed the top of his head, and held his shoulders as he sobbed.
“I’m a fine mess now.” He sniffed.
His wife hugged him from behind. “I’ve always thought you were a very fine mess, sir.”
****
“Why didn’t ye tell me?” Garth held his wife in his arms, nuzzled his face in her hair, as she lay against his bare chest. “Two months, Amalie, half a dozen opportunities. Ye should’ve told me.”
“Didn’t want you to worry. What good is it if you can do nothing about our troubles?” She brushed her hand through the mass of thick graying hair on his belly to his thigh and up his back. “Mmm….It’s so good to touch you. I missed this more than anything.”
He hadn’t responded so she sat up to find his expression grave. “Ye shoulda told me, Amalie. Ye’re not the only one to grieve the loss of our child. He was mine, too, even if I didn’t ken.”
She held her husband in her arms and rested in the relief that he was home. For now, they were a family—all together under one roof.
“Milord, so much happened at once, there was little time to grieve. In a while maybe I’ll stop waitin’ to feel him move. I forget he’s not there, growin’, and I feel empty inside.” She finally gave in to the ache and longing.
He lifted his head, wiped her face with the sheet that covered them. “We can work on that.” He smiled sadly. His wide hand covered her abdomen. “We’ll start again.”
****
“Quentin wrote.” Amalie dressed in Garth’s chamber.
He watched her pull on undergarments, admiring the curve of her waist, the swell of her creamy thighs. “How’s he doing?”
“Verra well. He heard about…the uprisin’. He’s married, and they’re expectin’ their first child. His wife’s Scottish; her parents took her to Nova Scotia when she was a baby. I’m thinkin’ of sendin’ Kieran to him. She’d be a help, with the bairn and feel better close to him. She’s talking now.”
“Sounds fine. I’ll see to it then, find someone going to Nova Scotia, or hire an escort.”
“Thank you, sir.” She leaned down for a quick kiss.
Garth grabbed his wife and pulled her down on top of himself in the bed. “Why do ye have to leave?”
“I must help Millie with dinner. The work doesn’t do itself. You’ve been gone so long, you think of nothing but the amorous side of our lives?” She met his passionate kiss until she was breathless. “Oh, you are a hard man to say ‘no’ to, aren’t you?”
“I’m doin’ my best to make it impossible fer ye.” He pulled the lacing on her stays and stripped her. “Let’s get these things outta the way. I’ll let ye go, in a little while, I promise.” He kissed her again and rolled across the bed to trap her beneath him. “Well, perhaps not.”
She giggled. “Milord, I throw myself at your mercy. Do with me what you will.”
“I intend to. We need to take the carriage ride, Amalie. I thought it through while a guest of His Majesty and decided we need to give some things in our lives priority.”
“Let’s, sir, we’ll take a picnic….” She began dreamily.
“I didn’t say we were stoppin’.” He nuzzled her neck.
“Neither did I.”
They immersed themselves in the pleasure of each other.
Chapter 31
“Fetch Collin, Glenn.” Garth entered his study as the page left, closing the front door.
Garth reached for his reading glasses and opened the post. He laid aside news of his ships when he recognized Livesey’s handwriting.
Dear friend, as agreed upon in Aviemore, I write to say my children and I will make the trek to Badenoch in three months’ time. My mother-in-law is ill so Katherine will hold down the estate until our return.
Perhaps we can find time to fish the loch. Remember the month I stayed, after our return from France? We fished and hunted daily. I long for those same memories for Edmund, if you feel obliged.
Best Wishes, Heath Livesey
“Well, that’ll do nicely. Must remember to post him a note.” A rap fell on the oak door. Garth boomed. “Come in, Collin.”
The Mackintosh champion took long strides into the dim room. “Ye wanna see me, sir?” The Irishman clasped his hands behind his straight back.
“Aye, sit.” Garth arranged himself in his wing backed chair and threw a stern look at his friend. “What of this business with Sergeant Rory?”
“What of it?” Collin sat in Amalie’s chair.
“Did ye kill him?” Garth leaned forward. “Fer I’m told he met his fate at the corner o’ the prison, while smokin’.”
“I hear that tobacco’s no good fer ye. Suppose it’s true, eh?” Collin leaned back and stretched out his lanky frame.
“Did ye kill him?”
“Met him there. He’s breathing when I left. His condition was life-threatenin’ though.”
“Why, Collin?” Garth sighed.
The champion studied the ceiling a moment. “Ha’ ye seen her when milady heard—the messenger read the note Rory hatefully penned. Her whole world shattered right before our eyes. I’ve never witnessed such dignity, in the face o’ tragedy. She held herself well.” He met Garth’s eyes. “Then when I returned with the news ye weren’t dead, but wounded, and found her in the state she was in.” He shook his head. “No, the bastad didn’t deserve to live.”
“Be that as it may, he was a British subject.”
“More’s the pity then.” Collin pushed himself straight in the chair and leaned toward Garth. “Ye didn’t see her sittin’ on the stool in yer bathing chamber swaddled in a blanket, wailin’ her heart out, her hair matted with blood, her face swollen from weepin’. Her voice was so hoarse, from tears, she could barely talk. Ye weren’t there to see the lifeblood o’ yer child soaked into the rug under her feet.”
Tears collected in Garth’s eyes.
Collin continued. “Nay, but I was—and all I did was what ye’d’ve done yerself, sir.” Collin relaxed. “Livesey pointed him out and I helped the devil along to meet his Maker. Tell me ye’d’ve done less.”
“Nay, no less.” Garth looked away.
“Is there anything else ye need me fer?” Collin asked.
Garth glanced back into the cold blue eyes of the most deadly man he’d ever
known. “Thank you, my friend, fer cherishin’ my wife’s honor, and fer tendin’ to the more—unpleasant chores fer me.”
Collin nodded affirmation. “Ye’re welcome. I hope ye’d returned the favor, if needed.”
“Indeed! Have a drink with me?”
“Don’t mind if do.”
The old camaraderie swept back into place as Garth rose to pour mead for them both.
Chapter 32
“Why do you have to attend another meetin’? Does this not invalidate my promise to the British? That you would not raise a sword or plot against them?” Amalie sat in her chair across from her husband, in his study.
“Nay, it does not. I go to the meetin’ to declare my neutrality, not cooperation.” He readied his leather satchel, packing a pipe, a tobacco pouch, and several documents. He slid a sghian dubh into its sheath at one corner of the case. “While there, I suppose we’ll be decidin’ who actually won the Battle of Sherrifmuir. The British claim the victory, but then so do the Jacobites.”
“Do you determine victory by who has the most dead and dyin’ bodies on the ground? How do you decide who’s superior and what does it gain you?” Amalie rose, paced, with her arms crossed as she continued. “Yet another opportunity to gather more men and meet on a different battleground? What of the wives, mothers, and sisters who cry in agony, longin’ to touch the cheek of their beloved, but once more?” As her circuit neared, she straightened and continued her journey. “Men do not fathom the heartache they leave at home. I wish you could just be happy with what we’re given and stop chasin’ after another fight. Life’s hard enough.”
Garth closed his satchel and met his bride on her third lap round the room. “Where’s this comin’ from, my love?”
“I look at my bonnie boy and wonder ‘when will we put a sword in his hand and demand he slay his friend, cousin, or neighbor?’ Will the killin’ stop when the Stuarts are returned to the throne or will it start a different war?” Her husband unwound her arms and pulled her close.
“My heart, we’re a warrior people. It’s what we do. At least this way we aren’t fightin’ each other as often.” He chuckled as he held her, rubbing her back. “Is there something ye need to tell me?”
She pushed back from him. “Like what?”
“When ye’re this impassioned abou’ every subject, there’s usually more happenin’ than meets the eye.” He kissed her forehead and whispered into her ear. “Are ye with child again?”
She paled. “I’ve been so busy, I haven’t considered….” She closed her eyes and tried to recall her schedule. She leaned her forehead on his chest and grinned. “Perhaps so, sir.” She looked up. “If I am, will you promise me now, you will not withhold your affection?”
“I promise. There then. We’ll celebrate when I return, in four days.” He held her and sighed. “I do love ye, lass, more than life. I’ll do everything in my limited power to see that we don’t fight again…for a while. How’s that?” He held her away from him to see her face.
“I guess it’s really all I can ask, isn’t it?” She smiled sheepishly.
“Now let’s find the children so I can say ‘goodbye’ and I’ll be on my way. Ye can still change yer mind and go with me. There’s plenty for ladies to do in Inverness.”
“I could go visit your stepmother, at the new Moy Hall, could I not? We might discuss what a dumb cow she is and why it’s vital to educate girls, as they’re people too.” Her face flushed, her hand covering her mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s mean.”
He chuckled. “Aye, but accurate.”
“No sir, I’ve lost nothing in Inverness or Aberdeen, because of your esteem. I’ll stay here, with our bairns, and ponder the one comin’. We’ll be ready to open the school, at the end of this week. Mallow’s so excited to teach. Come, I’ll go with you to the nursery. I need to work on numbers with Jessie today. I think she’s improving.”
He took her arm and guided her through the doorway to find his valise, waiting by the door. He stopped, holding Amalie back.
“I don’t know why I have to make this trip.” He studied the luggage. “The devil with ’em. Collin can go. Send a page fer the champion, my heart. Yer laird’s stayin’ home.”
Amalie sighed in relief. “Thank you, sir.” She stretched on tiptoes to brush his lips with a kiss.
He caught her waist to pull her close. “I deserve a reward for takin’ a stand, ye know.”
“I can see to that, with pleasure.” She relaxed in his arms.
Chapter 33
An elegant English coach pulled through the gates of the barmekin. Grayson followed it, with his eyes, and sent a lad to fetch the laird.
Heath Livesey stepped out of the coach, emblazoned with the Livesey coat of arms. He turned to offer his hand to his oldest daughter, Ann. She timidly alit and glanced around at the tall stone walls surrounding the dusty cobbled barmekin. Edmund followed Miriam, after her father lifted his youngest daughter from the coach.
As soon as Edmund’s feet were grounded, he released a low whistle. “Father, it’s like stepping back to medieval times. Look at this place. Centuries have passed since these stones have seen a mason. Where do children play, there’s no lawn.”
Livesey regarded his eldest child. “Things are different in Scotland, Ed. I love its sense of history and the feeling we belong to something more primal and substantial than well-planned gardens and manicured lawns. Make no judgment, based on a coarse country castle. Mackintosh chooses to live here over Moy Hall and the ornate edifices he owns in Inverness. His is one of the greater ruling clans in Scotland.”
“I wonder if his children are educated. Can they even read?” Edmund frowned.
The door to the great hall opened to The Mackintosh and his bride.
“They’re very well educated, son. Soon, you shall see….” Livesey spotted his friend. “Allo, there, Garth!” Heath Livesey walked toward them, his children in his wake.
Garth reached for Livesey’s hand and glanced past at his brood. “Heath, this is Amalie, my wife.”
Heath bent to lay a kiss on Amalie’s fingertips. “It’s a pleasure and an honor to finally meet you.”
“Thank you, sir.” Amalie felt her cheeks burn under the Englishman’s gaze.
“This is my son, Edmund, my daughters, Ann and Miriam.”
Edmund bowed and both girls curtsied.
“Welcome to you all. Please, let’s hie to the castle.” Garth turned to lead the way, with Amalie on his arm.
****
The gentlemen settled in the parlor with a drink when Amalie returned, with their children in tow.
Garth rose to make introductions and noted the look Edmund Livesey directed at Mallow. He watched his eldest daughter process the visitors.
“If ye like,” Mallow addressed the girls, “ye lasses may accompany me upstairs to the nursery. My brother’s nappin’, but we prepared a place fer ye to rest and refresh yerselves.”
Ann nodded with a smile. “That would be most appreciated. Come, Miriam.” Ann took her younger sister’s hand.
The girls followed Jessica and Mallow from the room. Amalie observed from her chair and smiled approval at Mallow’s gracious observation of protocol.
Edmund followed the girls with his eyes, until they were out of sight.
“So, when would ye like to go fishin’, Edmund?” Garth picked up his cold pipe and wished he still smoked.
“Whatever fits your schedule, sir. Father frequently relates tales of his visit after France.” Edmund stuffed his hands in his pockets. Well over six feet tall, he was lanky, like his father was, as a youngster. “I’m enraptured with his stories.”
“Our glory days, son.” Heath smiled and stretched himself toward the peat fire in the hearth.
“I better excuse myself, gentlemen.” Amalie rose. “I’ve wee ones to tend and I’ll check that your rooms are ready. Please make yourselves at home. Glenn will take up your luggage and see to your comfort, while you’re here.” Amalie l
eft them, all three men on their feet, until she closed the door.
“Congratulations, old man.” Heath resettled himself. “You’re to be a father again in a few months, I see.”
Garth nodded. “Aye. We were going to Dublin to see my wife’s family, but with another child and the last…bein’ the way it was, I hate to put her through the carriage rides. Our physician warned against it.” A frown creased his brow.
Heath nodded. “It’s better to keep her calm and still.”
“I want only the best for that woman, but it broke her heart not to go to Ireland. It’s been most of four years since she’s been home.”
Heath shrugged. “Bring her family here, perhaps for the birth of your child. That would ease the angst she feels about the pregnancy, as well.”
“Ye see that in her?” Garth glared at his pipe again.
“I think so. Beneath that quiet demeanor there’s a volcano brewing, if I’m any judge of women, at all.” Heath leaned back and studied his friend. “Is Collin about?”
“Nay, he took the opportunity to make a trip to Dublin, where he’s from, with his new family. His son was born several months ago. He figured, since I was home, while ye visited, there was no need to hang about. Also, I imagine he was tryin’ to save ye some embarrassment, in his own way. Collin can be sensitive about such things.” Garth studied the fine ivory carving on one of his favorite pipes.
“He’s an amazing man.” Heath offered.
“Aye, that he is. An enigma, at times, though. He’s taken up archery. He’s as fine an archer as he is…well, at every other death sport.”
“Who’s this you’re discussing?” Edmund interjected.
“Collin’s The Mackintosh champion, Edmund. His role is protector, body guard, and what say you, Garth?”
“If there’s to be a battle, whether a foreign enemy or local clan, Collin leads the clan. He spends most days trainin’ younger men to fight usin’ whatever they have at hand. Once I watched him whip about ten younger, stronger lads with a stout pole. None of ’em could lay a hand on ’im. He’s a master with every sort o’ weapon.”