Devil in a Kilt by Sue-Ellen Welfonder
Chapter 21
Linnet stepped into the little garden’s low-ceilinged workshop, grateful as always for the peace she found here. Everything delighted and soothed her, from the cozy thickness of the walls, to the bundles of dried herbs hanging from the rafters.
The many shelves crowded with bottles, jars, and earthenware pots, along with several worktables holding an assortment of pestles, mortars, and wooden bowls, the variety of which she’d never seen, gave her great pleasure.
In a corner cupboard, she’d even found a precious set of metal scales, a collection of small wooden boxes ideal for storing her medicinal preparations once dried, and even several rolls of fairly clean linen for bandaging wounds if ever she must.
She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the pungent air. Her heart warmed immediately. In the quiet of the dim workshop with its comforting scents of herbs and peat smoke, she’d found a sense of contentment she’d not expected to enjoy at Eilean Creag.
Even the earthy smell of the well-trodden floor and the tang of the briny sea air drifting in through the one tiny window calmed her and gave the workshop a welcome air of sanctuary.
Taking an earthen jug from a shelf, she poured a measure of ragwort elixir into a small flagon. She’d concocted the special blend especially for Sir Marmaduke, taking great care with the selection of ingredients. On impulse, she added a few drops of other herb essences to the ragwort in the hopes of bringing even more relief to the puckered and angry welts upon the Englishman’s face.
Satisfied, she carefully sealed the flagon so not a drop of the precious elixir would be lost.
Tucking the flagon into a small purse tied to her apron, she turned and nearly stumbled over a large hound stretched upon the floor behind her. She smiled at recognizing Mauger, the ancient mongrel wont to follow her stepson everywhere he went.
But she’d heard neither of them enter. Nor did she see Robbie anywhere in the workshop.
Puzzled, she bent down to scratch the dog’s head, scanning the shadows as she did so. “Robbie? Are you here, laddie? You’ve no need to hide from me.”
Although he didn’t answer her, a slight rustling in the far corner revealed his hiding place. Robbie sat on the floor, beneath a table, his small form barely visible in the deep shadows.
Quickly, Linnet crossed the short distance between them and knelt on the earth floor. Despite the dimness, she could see the boy was distressed. He’d drawn his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly about them. To her dismay, he kept his face averted.
What troubled her most was the way his shoulders shook. Robbie was crying, and his silent tears rent her heart. Edging forward, she reached under the table and tried to touch his arm, but he ignored her and continued to cower against the wall.
“Robbie, lad, what’s happened? Will you not come out and tell me what’s troubling you?”
A sniffle came in reply, but he did twist around to glance at her. Pity seized her at the sight of him, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen, his face pale and wet with tears.
Thinking only to comfort him, Linnet snatched him to her, cradling his trembling body against hers. As gently as possible, she smoothed her hands over his dark hair, then used the edge of her apron to dab the moisture from his cheeks.
“What’s happened, laddie? Tell me, for I promise it cannot be so bad as it seems.”
He sniffled again and didn’t attempt to speak, but the way he tightened his arms around her encouraged her to keep probing. “Why aren’t you with Sir Marmaduke?” she asked gently, stroking the back of her hand down his damp cheek. “Isn’t this the hour he instructs you in handling a sword?”
“Uncle Marm’duke rode out with the patrol,” Robbie blurted, swiping at his eyes.
UncleMarmaduke? Linnet tucked away that bit of information for later and concentrated on discovering what ailed the boy. “If you don’t have a lesson, what are you doing about so early?”
Again, silence answered her. But the anguished look in his dark blue eyes, eyes so like her husband’s, was all the clue she needed to know something had hurt him sorely.
Of a sudden, Mauger nudged her from behind, almost knocking her off-balance as he came forward to rest his great dome-shaped head upon Robbie’s lap. The old dog whined pitifully, staring up at Linnet with mournful brown eyes as if begging her to ease his young master’s pain.
“It would please Mauger if you’d tell me what’s wrong,” she tried, resting one hand on the dog’s shoulder. “There’s no one here but he and I, and you know how much we both love you.”
Fresh tears sprang to Robbie’s eyes, but he nodded and began to speak. “I went to the kitchens ‘cause Fergus said Cook was baking spiced cakes and … and …”
“And?”
“A few of Cook’s helpers were lighting the fires and I heard them talking. They said you would give Papa a new son and then…” Robbie drew a shuddering breath, then seemed to crumple in her lap. His next words came out in a rush, “… and then he’d ne’er want me at all.”
“Oh, sweeting.” Linnet’s heart twisted, his fears piercing her soul. Taking his face between her hands, she forced him to look at her. “Hear me well, lad, for what I say is true. Your father loves you more than his own life. Do not ever doubt it, nor that you are his son. Have you forgotten what I told you the day we met his half brother in the woods?”
Robbie shook his head but looked far from reassured.
“Good. All ken you are your father’s son. I saw it, too, when I first laid eyes on you, and I’ve told you ‘tis only the truth I see in such a way.”
She paused, getting to her feet and drawing Robbie up with her. She also searched for the right words and when she found them, she placed her hands firmly on his shoulders.
“It is hard, I know, but perhaps the saints want to strengthen you so you’ll be better able to face the responsibilities of being next laird. Those above ne’er give us heavier burdens than we can bear.” Stepping back from him, she crossed her arms. “If e’er I am blessed with a babe, it would be a brother or sister for you to love – a child who would love you in return. And respect your place as future laird.”
“But why can’t we tell Papa?”
For the first time, Linnet doubted the wisdom of keeping such a secret. But her six sense told her it was the only way, and never had her instincts lead her falsely.
“Because,” she began, hoping he’d understand, “your father must find the truth himself. He carries a powerful ache within, and only he can heal it. If we tell him, we’ll be taking away the lesson he must learn. Does that make sense to you?”
Robbie hesitated, digging at the hard-packed dirt floor with the toe of his shoe. “Do you think it will take him long to learn that lesson?”
“Nae, I do not, for your papa is a good and wise man,” Linnet assured him, praying to the heavens above not to prove her wrong.
At Robbie’s age, a mere sennight would seem like forever.
“You think papa is wise?”
“Oh, aye, I do,” she agreed, pleased when the lad stood a bit straighter upon hearing her words. Even Mauger’s ears perked up as if the old hound understood her. “It is well-known that he’s the mightiest of Highland warriors, too. The most revered in all the land. I’d heard of his daring feats in battle, of his valor, long before he brought me here.”
A pink stain tinged Robbie’s cheeks and he took his lower lip between his teeth. Then, looking sheepish, he said, “But you’re a MacDonnell. How would you know?”
Her heart swelled at the way the lad puffed out his chest, pride in his MacKenzie heritage replacing his earlier distress.
“It is likely there are none who do not know of him.” She smiled, gently tugged his tunic into place over his hose. “A grievance, even a long-standing one as between our clans, doesn’t mean they hear nothing of each other. Many are the traveling bards who sing your father’s praises, as they sang of his father before him.”
“Have you heard them sing of my papa?” Robbie asked, his voice full of awe.
“More times than I welcomed,” she told him, smiling. “The courage and spirit of the MacKenzie men is legend, and no matter what plaid a man flings over his shoulder, there is not a Highlander worthy of the name who will not respect another man’s valor, enemy clan or nae.”
“Do you think the bards will e’er sing about me?”
“For sure, they will.” She tousled his silky dark hair, then slipped her hand under his chin, lifting his face so she could glory in the hope she saw there. “You have a tall legacy to follow, Robbie. But I know you will make a fine laird one day.”
He seemed to grow taller before her eyes, but she could see something still troubled him. “I am sorry I cried,” he blurted. “Men don’t cry.”
“Who told you that?” Linnet peered intently at him. “It is only a very brave man who is not afraid to show he cares.”
At that, Robbie rushed forward and threw his arms around her. I am so happy you’re here,” he said, gazing up at her, the ardor in his words melting her.
“I am glad, too,” she admitted, speaking the truth she couldn’t deny. Despite everything. “Would you like to help me sow a bed of cabbage seeds?” she asked, changing the subject. “A future laird must know the workings of his castle just as he must learn to wield his sword and lance. So, will you join me?”
Robbie nodded. “But … will you …”
“Will I what?” Linnet queried, gathering her supplies from the worktable.
He shot her a shy look. “Will you teach me to throw a dagger the way you threw yours at Uncle Kenneth?”
Linnet laughed and plunked a small sack of cabbage seed into Robbie’s hands. “Aye, lad, I shall teach you that and more.”
Then she opened the workshop door, holding it wide so the boy and his dog could step out into the morning sunlight. She followed close on their footsteps, the flagon of Sir Marmaduke’s elixir tucked away in her purse, totally forgotten.