Devil in a Kilt by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

Chapter 30

Not quite an hour later, Duncan walked into his solar, or what used to be his solar, his lady wife following on his heels. A cheery fire burned in the hearth and it was more than obvious his dearest friend and brother-in-law, Sir Marmaduke, had laid claim to the chamber.

The romantically inclined English knight had cluttered the once-austere solar with all manner of useless trappings. Duncan pressed his lips together in a frown as he surveyed the many changes.

Indeed, were it not for the wicked-looking sword and other knightly gear resting in a far corner next to the door to his former bedchamber, Duncan would’ve sworn he’d entered the quarters of a lady.

A fanciful one with nothing but nonsense in her head.

Duncan spied the one-eyed lout leaning against the closed bedchamber door, his arms folded. Ever the gallant, Sir Marmaduke sprang to attention, coming forward to give Linnet a courtly bow. When he straightened and claimed her hand for a kiss, Duncan decided he’d had enough.

“Stop acting as if you’re at court,” he said irritably, while the Englishman fawned over his wife’s hand. “You should be instructing my squires in swordplay at this young hour and not pretending you’re the fabled Sir Lancelot.”

Taking hold of Linnet’s elbow, Duncan drew her closer to his side, away from the Sassunach. “Where is Fergus? I was told he wished to speak with my lady.”

“Fergus and his intended should arrive any moment,” Sir Marmaduke assured him, returning to his position in front of the closed bedchamber door. “You won’t deny his request, will you?”

“Of course, not,” Duncan snapped. “Why should I? If he wants to tie himself to a wife, ‘tis his decision.”

Beside him, Linnet stiffened. With a little jerk, she freed her elbow from his grasp and went to stand before the tall, narrow windows. Her back to the room, she clasped her hands loosely behind her and appeared to stare out at the waters of Loch Duich far below.

Marmaduke shot a quick glance her way, then turned his gaze on Duncan. The reproach on the Sassunach’s face made Duncan feel as if he were once again a wee laddie and had just been dressed down by his father.

“I doubt Fergus sees it that way,” Marmaduke said. “He’s quite fond of Elspeth. I daresay he loves her.” Pausing, he narrowed his good eye at Duncan. “As all men should love and cherish the woman they take to wife.”

“And who made you an expert on marriage?” Duncan quipped sourly before remembering how deeply the Englishman had loved his late wife, Duncan’s sister, Arabella.

How much he still mourned her death.

As so often of late, Duncan winced at the harshness of his own words. By the hounds, what had come over him? Angry at himself, and embarrassed as well, he sought to change the subject. “Since when have you become Fergus’s champion? It was not so long ago the two of you couldn’t abide each other.”

“Times change, people change, my friend. ’Tis a wise man who can admit he is wrong.”

“Is that so?”

Marmaduke lifted a hand, studied his fingernails. “Since the beginning of all days.”

The neck opening of Duncan’s tunic suddenly seemed inexplicably tight, and heat stole up his neck and into his cheeks. “If you’re referring to-”

A knocking on the still-open door behind Duncan saved him from finishing. “’Tis good of you to meet with us,” Fergus called from the door. “May we come in?” he asked, although he’d already stepped inside.

Duncan’s jaw dropped. Never had Fergus asked his permission for anything. More often than not, the bristly old seneschal spoke his mind and did as he pleased.

But something had changed him.

He even looked different.

So much so, Duncan suspected he’d taken a bath, a small miracle in itself. It was apparent, too, that he’d tried, albeit without much success, to comb his shaggy mane of gray hair into a semblance of neatness.

He’d also donned his best plaid and polished the silver brooch holding it in place at his shoulder.

“What’s this about you wanting to marry?” Duncan kept his voice gruff in an attempt to hide his astonishment at the old man’s jaunty appearance. “Is that the truth?”

“Aye, so it is, my lord. I know you won’t deny me my happiness.” Fergus stepped deeper into the solar, his intended close behind him, holding tightly to his gnarled hand. “With all due respect to you as laird, ’tis your wife’s blessing I wish to have, as my Elspeth and I don’t want to do anything that doesn’t meet her approval.”

“That can be arranged.” Duncan crossed his arms, wondering how his world had so quickly been turned inside out since he’d fetched Linnet MacDonnell to be his bride: Sir Marmaduke had used trickery to oust him from his quarters, he couldn’t open his mouth without putting his foot in it, and more that he was surely forgetting.

He was master of his castle and rightful laird, yet everyone under his roof would lead him around by the nose.

And now his cranky old tale-spinner of a seneschal had spruced himself up like a lovesick squire and sought not his, but his wife’s blessing to marry.

A wife who had yet to fulfill the one task he asked of her, to tell him the truth about Robbie.

A wife whose very nearness unsettled and excited him.

“My lord? Have we angered you?” Fergus asked, causing Duncan to scowl even more.

Sakes, the old buzzard had ne’er called him anything but his given name. That, and a few choice titles Duncan didn’t care to recall.

But never my lord.

“Nae, I am not angry.” Duncan shook his head, still trying to rid himself of the notion his entire household had gone mad while he wasn’t looking. “I am just surprised.”

Turning to his wife, he said, “Lady, you’ve heard Fergus’s request. Will you give them your blessing?”

Linnet stepped forward, her hands clasped before her, her gaze on the older pair still hovering near the door. “Is this your wish, too, Elspeth? Are you certain?”

Elspeth nodded, her gray curls bouncing. “Aye, child, it is, and I am more than sure. When Angus passed, I did not expect I’d meet a man I could care for again, but” – she paused to beam at Fergus – “I have, and it is my hope you’ll be happy for me. For both of us.”

Duncan glanced at Linnet, waiting.

Apparently, her old nurse’s words were all she needed to hear, for she rushed across the room, throwing herself first into Elspeth’s arms, then allowing Fergus, the bandy-legged he-goat, to embrace her as well.

“Ahem…” Duncan cleared his throat, trying to catch their attention, to bring a spot of order, nae, dignity, to the moment, but the three ignored him.

Ooohing and aaahing, they continued to hug, kissing each other upon their cheeks as if he wasn’t even present.

From his post by the bedchamber door, Sir Marmaduke shrugged. He wore an expression Duncan could only call a self-satisfied smirk and obviously found the situation highly amusing.

“Ahem!” Duncan tried again, louder this time.

All three stopped their silly prattle and turned toward Duncan.

“Aye?” Fergus answered him, plucking his plaid into place, then drawing himself as tall as his somewhat-stooped frame would allow. “What’s ailing you, lad? Have you lost proper use of yer tongue?” His bushy brows snapped together as if daring Duncan to spoil his newfound happiness.

“Naught ails me,” Duncan countered crossly. “Naught at all.”

Except wondering when every man, woman, and child, under my roof had their brains pickled!

He turned to his wife. “You approve of this union?”

“Oh, aye,” she said, smiling in a way she’d never smiled at him. “If Elspeth is so happy, how can I do aught but approve?” She grasped Elspeth’s hands then, holding them between her own. “They make a fine, bonnie pair.”

“Then so be it.” Duncan nodded once.

He refused to be party to such gushing sentimentality.

Suchlike was a frivolous waste of time better left to women and his softhearted Sassunach brother-in-law.

Indeed, he’d let Marmaduke, with his love of French romances and constant gibberish about chivalry and courtly love, see to organizing a small wedding ceremony for the besotted old fools.

He, as laird, had more important matters to attend.

And so he fixed the Sassunach with a pointed stare. “You can help them make arrangements. I must hie myself below and dinnae have the time. A patrol is due in shortly, and I am anxious to hear their tidings.”

Because it was expected of him, he strode over to the older couple and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “I am pleased to see you both content. May God grant you many long and happy years together.”

Stepping away from them, he heaved a deep sigh and made for the door. Without another word, and not looking back, he left him.

He truly did have much to tend to this morn. Reports of cattle snatching had been filtering in of late, as well as the scattered accounts of kinsmen being harassed. He couldn’t spend the day dallying about planning a wedding when such trouble was underfoot, when his people needed him.

Besides, so much blissfulness as he’d just been forced to witness was hard for a man to bear.

Especially when his own heart ached for even a meager share of such happiness. A fierce scowl settled over his face as he began the circular descent to the hall.

By the devil, the truth hurt.

Bad.

And knowing he was too much of a coward to do anything about it pained him even more.