shoulder at the three of them discussing the merits of Auchengray, Lachlan smiled to himself.
Aye, Ronald. Edingham will be sold.
Thomas Henderson of Dalbeaty stood ready to buy Edingham Farm—the house, the steading, the fields, the cattle, the lot of it. Lachlan pictured his thrifite, already packed with silver coins, soon overflowing with gold ones. As gold as the knotted cord that lay hidden among his shillings. A gift from Lillias Brown, the local wisewoman, meant to bring riches to his doorstep.
’Tis working, Widow Brown.
Lachlan stepped closer to the lads, pointing them toward Dumfries. “To the north you’ll find untamed moorland with stands of oak and ash and the royal burgh beyond it. My neighbors are the Newalls of Troston Hill Farm and the Drummonds of Glensone. Fine families, however modest their holdings.” He swerved about with a broad sweep of his arm. “My tups come from Tannocks Farm east of here. And, as you ken, there’s naught to the south but Criffell and the Solway.”
The young men craned their necks to take it all in, turning at last to admire the heather-covered slopes of Criffell. The summit, draped in mist, stretched nearly two thousand feet above the shoreline of the Solway Firth, the western waters of which mingled with the Irish Sea. The brothers seemed impressed. Perhaps the time had come to answer Ronald’s question about heirship.
Lachlan touched the lad’s elbow to catch his attention. “A moment ago you asked who might rightfully claim this land.” Ronald’s brothers swiveled in his direction, the view forgotten. “The truth is I have no sons or male relatives whom I wish to see inherit Auchengray.” He lifted his shoulders slightly as if to shrug off the sympathy he saw in their eyes. “Of my two daughters, the older one has produced a son. A
bystart.
”
He let the word hang in the air like a disagreeable smell. It produced the reaction he expected. Shock. And, judging by the look on Malcolm’s face, aversion. The Douglases were a respected family, proud of their standing in society and unacquainted with scandal.
“Due to the shameful circumstances of his birth, I refuse to claim Ian McKie as a grandson. He will depart with his father at Lammas, and any ties to Auchengray will be severed.” The relief on their faces was obvious.
“As to the child’s mother, Leana,” he continued, “no honest man would have her for a wife. The woman spent three weeks on the stool of repentance for the sin of …
hochmagandy.
Pardon me if the term offends you, lads, but that’s the sorry truth of it.”
Gavin’s eyes widened. “Will she … that is …”
“Have nae fear,” Lachlan assured them, bending to pluck a sprig of yellow broom. “Leana will not be welcomed back to Auchengray. As tomy younger daughter, you’ve already seen the sort of man she married.” He glanced down the hill toward the mains, letting his contempt show. “My nephew is weak, easily manipulated by the women in his life, starting with his mother.”
A momentary light flickered in Malcolm’s eyes, though nothing was said.
“When he landed on my doorstep, looking like a
gaberlunzie
without penny or purse, I took him in, dressed him hat to boots, and gave him a home.” Lachlan exhaled with a weary sigh. “You can judge for yourself the respect it has earned me.”
Gavin curled his lip. “We’ll not be sorry to see him leave.” Judging by the disdain on their faces, all three brothers were viewing Jamie in a new light. One that cast a murky shadow across the heir of Glentrool.
Lachlan clapped his hands together, eager to press on while the stage was set. “I’ll not bore you with the rest of it. We’ve more important things to discuss before our growling stomachs demand supper.” He guided them down Auchengray Hill, directing them toward a stone
bothy
in the glen below. Little more than a rough shelter from wind and rain, the small building had recently been put to rights, with the
Aye, Ronald. Edingham will be sold.
Thomas Henderson of Dalbeaty stood ready to buy Edingham Farm—the house, the steading, the fields, the cattle, the lot of it. Lachlan pictured his thrifite, already packed with silver coins, soon overflowing with gold ones. As gold as the knotted cord that lay hidden among his shillings. A gift from Lillias Brown, the local wisewoman, meant to bring riches to his doorstep.
’Tis working, Widow Brown.
Lachlan stepped closer to the lads, pointing them toward Dumfries. “To the north you’ll find untamed moorland with stands of oak and ash and the royal burgh beyond it. My neighbors are the Newalls of Troston Hill Farm and the Drummonds of Glensone. Fine families, however modest their holdings.” He swerved about with a broad sweep of his arm. “My tups come from Tannocks Farm east of here. And, as you ken, there’s naught to the south but Criffell and the Solway.”
The young men craned their necks to take it all in, turning at last to admire the heather-covered slopes of Criffell. The summit, draped in mist, stretched nearly two thousand feet above the shoreline of the Solway Firth, the western waters of which mingled with the Irish Sea. The brothers seemed impressed. Perhaps the time had come to answer Ronald’s question about heirship.
Lachlan touched the lad’s elbow to catch his attention. “A moment ago you asked who might rightfully claim this land.” Ronald’s brothers swiveled in his direction, the view forgotten. “The truth is I have no sons or male relatives whom I wish to see inherit Auchengray.” He lifted his shoulders slightly as if to shrug off the sympathy he saw in their eyes. “Of my two daughters, the older one has produced a son. A
bystart.
”
He let the word hang in the air like a disagreeable smell. It produced the reaction he expected. Shock. And, judging by the look on Malcolm’s face, aversion. The Douglases were a respected family, proud of their standing in society and unacquainted with scandal.
“Due to the shameful circumstances of his birth, I refuse to claim Ian McKie as a grandson. He will depart with his father at Lammas, and any ties to Auchengray will be severed.” The relief on their faces was obvious.
“As to the child’s mother, Leana,” he continued, “no honest man would have her for a wife. The woman spent three weeks on the stool of repentance for the sin of …
hochmagandy.
Pardon me if the term offends you, lads, but that’s the sorry truth of it.”
Gavin’s eyes widened. “Will she … that is …”
“Have nae fear,” Lachlan assured them, bending to pluck a sprig of yellow broom. “Leana will not be welcomed back to Auchengray. As tomy younger daughter, you’ve already seen the sort of man she married.” He glanced down the hill toward the mains, letting his contempt show. “My nephew is weak, easily manipulated by the women in his life, starting with his mother.”
A momentary light flickered in Malcolm’s eyes, though nothing was said.
“When he landed on my doorstep, looking like a
gaberlunzie
without penny or purse, I took him in, dressed him hat to boots, and gave him a home.” Lachlan exhaled with a weary sigh. “You can judge for yourself the respect it has earned me.”
Gavin curled his lip. “We’ll not be sorry to see him leave.” Judging by the disdain on their faces, all three brothers were viewing Jamie in a new light. One that cast a murky shadow across the heir of Glentrool.
Lachlan clapped his hands together, eager to press on while the stage was set. “I’ll not bore you with the rest of it. We’ve more important things to discuss before our growling stomachs demand supper.” He guided them down Auchengray Hill, directing them toward a stone
bothy
in the glen below. Little more than a rough shelter from wind and rain, the small building had recently been put to rights, with the
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