Mairead listened to them wander off together into that tongue and was grateful she’d made such a thorough study of it with various priests over the years as well as using Giles for practice. The Camerons were decent hosts, so perhaps he’d had thebenefit of clergy as well. His Latin was better than hers, but she could read far better than he could, so perhaps the scales were balanced well enough there.
She was half tempted to point out that she could also read Lord Oliver’s native tongue, but that would have given away more than she cared to. That, and she wasn’t sure she was pronouncing things properly. Then again, whilst his Gaelic was serviceable enough, and his French quite obviously second nature to him, the latter was pronounced with a bit of an accent she couldn’t place.
Birmingham, obviously.
She hardly had time to think that through properly before Kenneth had regained his feet and found not only his tongue and his sword. She moved well out of his way, half tempted to go hide behind the Duke, but found immediately that there was no need.
“Stop it, ye wee fools!” a voice thundered.
Mairead wasn’t sure if she should have been relieved or concerned that her uncle had arrived, but she imagined her opinion wouldn’t be asked on the matter. She took the opportunity to put a bit of distance between herself and Kenneth’s sword, though not so far that she couldn’t hear what was being said.
“And who would ye be?” Lachlan demanded.
“He’s called Oliver,” Giles said mildly. “An Englishman by birth, but his mother is French and he fostered with the king’s household in Edinburgh.”
Mairead would have added a few details from his history, but she thought that might be impertinent. Besides, she was fairly busy wondering how it was that out of all the souls she could have encountered—
She stopped herself before she went any further with that. Of course she would have encountered him. She had his book in the pocket of her apron. Well, not at the moment because it wassafely tucked away in her tree, but given that he was currently in the area, she understood how he could have lost it nearby. Perhaps he had passed through their lands a year ago and no one had been the wiser.
There was a mystery there, to be sure.
“Weel, come on, lad,” Lachlan said, gesturing expansively toward the keep. “Come inside out of the weather and leave these rambunctious pups to their scrapping. You’ll need something to eat and a place for the night.”
Mairead felt Giles take her arm and found, oddly enough, that it was somewhat reassuring. At the very least, it left her feeling as if she were still in her own skin, not lost in some magical realm where people simply stepped out of her uncle’s most treasured fables.
“So, tell me of yourself, man,” Lachlan said, clapping a hand companionably on Lord Oliver’s shoulder.
Mairead found Giles pulling her along directly behind her uncle. He shot her a quick look.
“We’d best be here to translate,” he said with wink. “I’m not sure Lord Oliver’s equal to your uncle’s chattering.”
Mairead couldn’t have agreed more. She was also rather more grateful than she likely should have been to find Giles’s brother Dougan on her right, leaving Kenneth marching along behind them, grumbling loudly. The fact that she needed Cameron guardsmen in the company of her own kin was ridiculous, but there it was. She set that thought aside as something not to think about any longer and focused her attention on the conversation going on in front of her.
“So you’ve been in London, have you?” Lachlan said in surprise. “Quite a distance, that, or so I’ve heard.”
“The journey here was very difficult,” Oliver agreed.
“And why were you there, lad?”
Oliver smiled very faintly. “Just flattering important souls, as one does.”
Mairead imagined that was indeed the case and she could only imagine the importance of the souls he flattered.
“I was fairly recently in Edinburgh—”
“Not in the gaol, eh?” Lachlan said, waggling his eyebrows and laughing a little.
“Fortunately not,” Oliver agreed with a nod, “though I visited the castle and frequented many fine tradesmen on my way to Holyrood—”
“You didn’t,” Dougan said breathlessly, leaning up to look at him. “Did you see the king’s magical beasts?”
“Later,” Lachlan said, elbowing Dougan away. “Hobnobbing with King James, were you?”
“As close as one manages to get,” Oliver agreed. He glanced over his shoulder at Dougan. “I’ll tell you later of the fierce beasties I saw, if you like.”
Mairead supposed Lord Oliver would understand that he’d just earned the undying loyalty of Giles’s brother. If not, she imagined he would realize the same very quickly, indeed.
“I took up my travels in a hasty fashion,” Oliver said easily, “then had my belongings purloined.”
