by Alisa Adams
Allana was deeply disturbed, but despite her feeling of disgust, she bent down to kiss Laird Kirk's forehead. "God bless you, m’laird," she whispered.
Nevin gazed at her as she stared down at the shrunken form of his father. He could see that she was shocked to the core and as she turned away, there was an expression on her face that he had never seen before, one of disbelief. She turned away very suddenly and almost ran out of the room, but Nevin caught her on the way past and wrapped his arms around her. To his utter amazement, she was weeping. Despite himself and the circumstances, it was glorious to have her in his arms.
Presently, she disengaged herself from his embrace and wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands. "I am sorry, Nevin," she sobbed. "He is nothing like the strong man I remember."
"I know," he said, with a sigh. "Toward the end, he could hardly speak. But you, Allana. Are you all right?"
"I am well, Nevin," she said with a trace of sadness. "I will recover. Now, had you not better attend to your guests?"
Nevin nodded and complied, but tearing himself away from Allana was a great effort and it seemed to become harder every time he had to do it. Instead of going downstairs, however, he stood in the gallery and watched her as she mingled with the other mourners, noticing that she was not her usual vibrant self. He was surprised that she had been so shocked at seeing the corpse of his father, but he had to see to his other guests and had no time to ponder on it.
Unbeknownst to Nevin, another pair of eyes was watching Allana. It was a guest of Laird McClellan, a friend of David's who had come to mourn him. He found the young, dark woman the most desirable maiden he had seen since he came to Oban and he considered himself a man of discernment and taste when it came to the fairer sex. He noticed that many men looked at her, but most women ignored her and that seemed to him to be rather peculiar.
Presently, a younger, fairer woman came to sit beside her. They talked for a moment then the fair one put her arm around the dark one's shoulders, and they bent their heads close together to speak to each other. Their faces were almost touching and he saw that their features were very similar. In spite of the difference in their coloring, he deduced that they must be sisters. He caught the arm of a passing maidservant.
"Who are those young ladies down there?" he asked.
"Sir, they are the young Dundas lasses. The dark ane is Miss Allana an' the fair ane is Miss Bettina."
"Thank you," he said absently, looking at the girls thoughtfully. He still preferred the dark maiden. She was an exotic ebony-haired creature in a sea of insipid blonde and red-haired people. He had never come across anyone quite like her. He had to meet her.
He walked up to both the sisters and bowed. "Ladies," he said with a concerned air. "My name is Kendrick Muir. I could not help but notice that you are quite upset. Is there anything I can do?"
Allana smiled at him wanly. "Thank you for your concern, sir," she replied, "but there is nothing."
He looked down into the young woman’s deep brown eyes and was completely overwhelmed by a desire so strong that he almost hauled her into his arms and ravished her lips with his. "May I ask your names?" he enquired with a smile.
"I am sorry," Allana answered, "how remiss of me. This is my sister, Bettina Dundas, and I am Allana Dundas."
"I am enchanted to make your acquaintance," Kendrick said, smiling. "I wish there was something I could do to take away your sadness, although I suppose it is natural at a time like this. Did you know him well?"
"We know his son better," Bettina told him. "Nevin, but Laird Kirk was a friend of my father and mother for many years, so we are very closely connected."
"Then I am sorry for your loss," Kendrick said gravely.
Allana was intrigued by the man looking down at her. He had light brown hair and his eyes were an intense shade of dark gray. He was perhaps just over thirty years old, of medium height, and sturdily built. If he was not the most attractive man she had ever met, he was certainly one of them and she felt herself blushing under his scrutiny.
Bettina excused herself to go and see another friend, and Kendrick asked Allana if she wanted a glass of mulled wine to drink. She accepted and watched him as he walked away to get it. Suddenly, her spirits lifted a little and while not quite glad she had come, she certainly felt a little more cheerful.
When he came back, he sat down beside her and smiled. "Tell me about yourself. May I call you Allana?" He asked.
"You may call me Allie, yes. May I call you Kendrick? It is a beautiful name."
"As is yours." He took a sip of his wine. "All my friends call me Ken. I may be very presumptuous, but I consider you one of them now."
She gave him a frank, warning look and then smiled so that she would not appear hostile. "Yes, you are presumptuous, Ken," she answered. She had felt a little uneasy for a moment and decided to proceed carefully. "Friendships do not happen instantly. But before I tell you about myself, I want to hear about you. What brings you to Oban?"
"I am a tweed merchant," he replied. "I buy tweed in Harris and sell it throughout the Highlands."
"That must be interesting," she observed, intrigued. "I imagine it is a fascinating profession, meeting unusual people and going to wild places. You must have many tales to tell."
"Indeed, I do," he replied, "but I am not much of a storyteller. Apparently, the best raconteur ever heard around these parts was a wandering priest called Father Columba McCarthy. He was rumored to have told the funniest tales I ever heard."
"I have heard of him," Allana answered, "he was a gifted healer, was he not?"
"Indeed, he was," Kendrick answered, "and no-one knows how he did it. It seems he had a gift from God."
"I wish he had been here, then," Allana said with a sigh. "Perhaps Laird Kirk would not have died such an agonizing death. Seeing what was left of such a strong man was devastating—he was naught but a skeleton. I confess that it has upset me very much."
Kendrick put a hand on hers. He expected her to pull it away but she did not, and he squeezed it. "Do not upset yourself," he said quietly. "I went to pay my respects too and it is true that the consumption ravaged him, but he is no longer in pain now. I am sure that he is in the presence of the Lord as we speak."
"I am sure you are right. Indeed, I do not understand why I feel so bad," Allana said, shaking her head slowly. "I am much closer to Nevin than I was to him."
Kendrick felt a stab of disappointment. "You are betrothed, perhaps?" he asked, sipping his wine and looking at her over the rim of his glass.
"No," she replied and he was relieved to see that her tone did not hold any disappointment. Perhaps, he had a chance to make her his after all. Allana gave herself a mental shake and changed the subject abruptly. "Do you buy directly from the weavers?"
"Indeed, I do but not individually. That would take an age!" He smiled as he spoke and Allana could see that he loved what he did and she warmed to him at once. "They have a co-operative association. They all get together and decide on a price between them and everyone's tweed is the same price so that things are scrupulously fair. They raise their prices a little and I bargain a little, which is expected, but they come to me because they know they can rely on me. I will not cheat them by trying to get them to sell their wares too cheaply. They work hard for a living."
I am making a good impression, he thought.
"You are a very honorable man," she remarked warmly. "Is tweed the only thing you sell?"
"No," he answered, "I also buy linen from the Shetlands, although the flax crop has not been good this year."
Allana sighed. "I always wish I could do something for those poor people when times are hard."
He looked at her carefully. "You really care, do you not?" he marveled. "So, few people of noble birth do."
"I would give anything to be able to take a year's worth of meat and corn to every croft in Scotland," she said with a sigh, "so many people have so little."
"I would gladly come with you," he re
plied, nodding in agreement.
She smiled at him. "Would you? You are more sympathetic than my father, then."
"I’m glad you think so. But what about you, Mistress Allana? How do you occupy your time?" He expected the usual: embroidery, drawing, and attending parties.
"I am learning a new craft," Allana replied. "It is called knitting and was brought to my attention by the ladies' maid of a Spanish noblewoman who is married to the Laird of Canmore's son. She told me that a Moorish slave taught her. I think that in a wool-producing area like this if we can train people to knit, we can start a new industry which will employ people and help them to feed their families."
Kendrick looked at her in wonder. Here was another way to win her favor. "What an astonishing lady you are!" he said in apparent admiration. "You must tell me more of this! How is it done?"
"It is a form of weaving," she replied, "but using only one thread. You have two little wooden sticks with points at one end and knobs at the other. The idea is to pass the loops from one stick to the other, but I would have to show you instead of telling you.” Then she laughed. "I am sorry, Ken. It is very hard to explain." She looked up at him with twinkling eyes. "And somehow I feel it is a craft more suited to ladies."
"Will you show me?" He asked eagerly. "I may be able to turn this to both our advantage and that of the wider community."
"Of course," she replied. "I will have Father invite you around for a glass of wine on Sunday and we can discuss it further."
Wakes were rarely solemn occasions in the Highlands. As soon as respects had been paid to the deceased, the drinking began and by the time everyone had imbibed a few glasses of his or her favorite tipple, their sorrow, or show of sorrow, was gone replaced by a maudlin semi-stupor.
The two new friends sat for a while sipping their wine and watching the mourners as they talked, laughed, and mingled with each other. Occasionally, Allana would point out an acquaintance who was acting foolishly or completely disgracing themselves much to the amusement of others.
Eventually, she had drunk two glasses of wine but was still nowhere near intoxicated and decided that it was time to go. "Let us go to see Father and Mother," she suggested. "My father keeps some excellent vintages from France which he has imported and aged for years and we can try some of them out. I am sure you will enjoy them. And, as you say, we may be able to help each other."
They approached her parents and she introduced him. "Father, Mother, this is Mr. Kendrick Muir," she began, “he is a tweed trader. I would like him to come and see us to discuss a possible business venture."
Malcolm raised an eyebrow, then, remembering his manners, he bowed and shook Kendrick's hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," he said. "This is my wife, Lady Edme Dundas."
Kendrick smiled and bowed. "An honor to meet both of you."
"I would like Mr. Muir to come and visit us on Sunday, Father," Allana said, with an encouraging smile. “We would like to get your opinion on something."
"This is sounding very intriguing," Malcolm said with a smile. "Join us for lunch on Sunday. We will have roast lamb."
"I have yet to find the man who would not eat a whole sheep given half a chance!" Lady Edme said, laughing.
Just then, Bettina joined them.
"How do two sisters manage to look so different?" Kendrick marveled. "One so dark, the other so fair?"
"My family came over from Spain a few generations ago," Edme explained. "We think that is where Allana got her Latin temperament and dark coloring."
"I would agree with that if I knew what a Latin temperament was!" Allana replied, laughing. "Anyway, we shall see you on Sunday around midday, Mr. Muir. You shall have a tour of the castle, too."
"Thank you, Mistress Allana, Mistress Bettina, m’laird, and milady." He bowed and left them.
"What a pleasant young man," Edme remarked, watching his retreating back. "Is he married?"
Allana's eyes widened. "Goodness!" she exclaimed. "I completely forgot to ask!"
"Perhaps you should," Malcolm said warningly. "I am a shrewd judge of these things, daughter, and I am quite sure that young man has more than one kind of business on his mind!"
In the end, Allana left the wake feeling considerably more cheerful than when she first arrived. Even the funeral, which took place on a bleak, gray day, could not dampen her spirits, although she made sure to keep her behavior calm and demure for Nevin's sake.
Nevin seemed to be a little more animated too, now that his initial shock had worn off. He welcomed all the mourners with great dignity and the only time he wiped his eyes was during the actual burial. With every day that passed, Nevin felt the weight of his responsibility more and more. He missed Allana since he worked from sunrise to sunset every day except Sunday and then he was too tired to be sociable.
Unbeknownst to him, he had a devoted admirer in Bettina, who felt his absence keenly. She had tried to take her mother's advice to get on with her life, but somehow, all the young men in her orbit simply did not compare to him. Bettina was also not the kind to give up easily; when Nevin became betrothed then she would abandon her dream but not before.
Allana was inspired by her new idea. She took up her knitting with renewed enthusiasm and soon had a long strip of fabric which she planned to use as a sample to show Kendrick. During the time between meeting Kendrick and their planned Sunday lunch, she thought of even more ways to make her scheme profitable and productive. She could not wait to see him so that she could put her ideas forward.
Sunday finally came, and Kendrick presented himself at the appointed hour with a bunch of summer flowers for Lady Dundas. She was enchanted, especially as he took her arm as they went in to lunch. It was a merry meal with sumptuous food and much laughter. Kendrick and Malcolm were subtly taking each other’s measure, but the sisters did not even notice. Edme did, however, and watched, inwardly amused. They were like rutting stags fighting for dominance.
Allana had no idea what Kendrick was thinking. She met his eyes a few times in conversation and he smiled, but there were no overt looks of affection. It was understood that business would wait until after the meal, so when they adjourned for a glass of wine, Bettina and Gwenda excused themselves.
After the meal was over, Kendrick, the Laird, and Allana went to sit beside the fire and drink some wine. Allana showed the two men her piece of knitting, which was smooth on one side and ridged on the other. It curled in at the sides and as Kendrick fingered it, he said thoughtfully, "These could make beautiful hose, but the color is very dull."
"That could mean more work for the local dyers," Allana responded. "If we can think of other products that could be made this way, we can stimulate the local economy for miles around!" Her voice was excited and her eyes were sparkling.
Kendrick was unable to stop himself smiling. "First things first, Allana," he said. "We must begin at the beginning. What happens to the wool after it is spun and dyed?"
Allana laughed. "Of course," she agreed. "We need to fashion some of these." She held up her knitting needles. "Then we can start teaching people to knit. I can teach a few ladies and they can teach others and so on. I can think of two people to start with straight away. There are some local wood craftsmen who can whittle needles for us." She stood up and began to walk around as she warmed to her plan.
Malcolm and Kendrick watched her, amused, as she strode around the room, waving and gesticulating as she excitedly outlined her plans, building an empire in her mind. Eventually, she talked herself to a standstill and looked at her father and Kendrick who were gazing at her in amused astonishment.
"Very enterprising," Kendrick commented, raising his whiskey glass to her. "I think you should get started with the teaching straight away, Allana."
Allana looked at her father who was smiling at her and shaking his head. "Allana, you never cease to amaze me. I am very proud of you and your ideas. You have my blessing."
"Thank you, Father." Allana kissed him.
Kendri
ck stood up and bowed to her. "Mistress Allana, I must leave tomorrow, but when I return this way in around two months, I will be able to see what progress you have made."
Allana looked into his deep gray eyes and her stomach clenched suddenly as a shaft of desire pierced her. She wanted desperately to have his arms wrapped around her, his lips on hers. She had never felt this way before—not even with Nevin.
Kendrick was experienced with women and saw the subtle change in her expression as her lips parted, her color deepened, and her pupils enlarged. He wanted to embrace her, but more than that, he wanted to possess her. She was young, beautiful, full of life, and full of fun. He had met many maids in his life but none quite like her.
He knew that he would miss her when he left, but once he came back, he would do his best to impress her with his sincerity. He wanted her, but he had no thoughts of love. However, he knew what love looked and sounded like, hopefully, that would be enough to get her into his bed.
"I will look forward to seeing you again," Allana said, her voice slightly husky. "And I hope that some of my plans will have come to fruition by that time."
"I wish you goodbye until then, Allie." He smiled and bowed. Kendrick said farewell to the Laird and went out into the courtyard. His horses had been saddled and loaded for him, so all he had to do was mount up and leave. She followed him. He turned to her and looked down, then kissed her softly on the lips. "Do not forget me, Allie," he said gently, caressing her cheek. "And I will not forget you until we meet again. Promise me."
"I promise," she whispered then laughed.
He gave her one last regretful smile, mounted, and rode away. Allana stood looking after him for a long time after he had disappeared out of the castle gate.
Little did she know, Bettina had been watching her. She smiled as she saw Kendrick kissing Allana. Perhaps her sister would turn toward Kendrick and away from Nevin. She hoped so, for Bettina was beginning to feel that if she could not have him, then she wanted no-one else.