“Ah, she’s a tough little nut, but I believe I’ve found her weakness.”
“She’s only four and a half years old, Sinjun, and she already has a weakness?”
“Oh yes, she’s quite horse mad. I took her out to see my mare, Fanny, and I thought she would burst the seams of her gown. It was love at first sight. I haven’t yet let her ride Fanny. But when I do, that should quite drop her into my net.”
“You’re dangerous, Sinjun. So all goes well, then.”
“I suppose all goes. How well or not is a matter of the time of day and the mood of the inmates here.”
They walked together to the castle, Sinjun stopping every so often and frowning.
“What is the matter?”
“Oh, I’m just making a mental list of things that still need to be done. It’s endless, really. The chickens need a new roof on their house, and the fencing there needs mending. I imagine we’ve lost many hens due to that. Ah, th
ere’s so much. Let me show you the new garden. Cook is all atwitter about it and the scullery maid, Jillie, is sheer magic with plants. She is now only a scullery maid half of the time and a gardener the other half. Cook is happy, Jillie is radiant, and our meals are better by the day. All that remains is talking Cook into trying her hand at some English dishes.”
“Good luck to you,” MacDuff said, and laughed. He admired the garden, still stubby green sprouts just showing above rich dark earth. “Colin isn’t happy,” he said suddenly, coming to a halt near the cistern. He leaned his elbows on the worn stones and looked down.
“It’s very deep,” Sinjun said. “The water is sweet.”
“Yes, I remember that it is. I see that you’ve put a new chain and that’s a new bucket.”
“Yes. Why isn’t Colin happy?”
MacDuff lowered the bucket, letting it down slowly, listening closely until it finally hit the water. He raised it and took the wooden mug hanging from a hook and dipped it into the bucket. He drank.
“As good as I remember,” he said, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Why isn’t Colin happy?”
“I believe he feels guilty.”
“He should. I’m here and he’s not and there is another thing—Robert MacPherson . . .” She broke off, wanting to kick herself. Colin would come riding home ventre à terre to protect her. MacPherson wouldn’t care how he got to Colin and with Colin here, there were too many possibilities, including the safety of the children. No, she would have to deal with MacPherson. There was no other way as far as she could see, and she’d thought about it very hard, listing out pros and cons as Douglas had taught her to do when faced with any problem.
“What do you mean about MacPherson?”
She shrugged, looking guileless as a nun. “I just wondered what Colin was doing about the man.”
“Nothing. He’s gone to ground. Colin visits the old laird, and he’s learned that Robert’s been going behind his back with his people, trying to get the power. Distressing, but true. Colin’s in a bit of a bind because, truth be told, he likes the old laird, despite Robert and Fiona.”
“He will figure it out,” she said shortly, looking out over the barley rows to the east. “It hasn’t rained in three days. We need it.”
“It will rain, it always does. This is paradise for growing. Colin is truly blessed with all the arable land. Here on the Fife Peninsula there are usually mild temperatures and ample rain. Much of Scotland is barren crags and empty moors and savage hills. Yes, Colin is very lucky to have Vere Castle. His ancestors, naturally, were lucky to be here and not in the Highlands or the borderlands.”
“I doubt the first Kinrosses had their pick of where they wished to be in Scotland. Who are these Ashcrofts, MacDuff?”
He smiled. “Friends of my parents. It was a long-overdue visit.”
“We’re long overdue as well. I’m glad you’re here.”
“I wish to see all that you’ve done. Incidentally, what does Colin think of all your improvements?”
“Not much.”
“I hope he hasn’t hurt your feelings.”
“He has. I fancy you know that.”