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“Indeed.” He adjusted his cravat. “I came to Scotland for Samhain.” Her kin also shed the Scottish way of speaking for the more fashionable London cut-glass accent.
Aileen had been busy preparing Samhain, which marked the end of harvest and the start of winter.
“if you want, you can spend it here.” She invited. “We are going to have a big celebration.”
“Hm, not a bad idea, to tell the truth.” The smile that accompanied it amenable. “Aunt Bridget is not expecting me for days yet.”
Alistair had been a constant presence in her childhood as his father and hers were brothers. “I am happy you came, Alistair.” She served the tea. “It has been a long time.”
“I am happy to be here.” He devolved.
Their chat came easily during tea and, as they finished, she invited him to walk the grounds. An autumn wind blew across the garden, but the overcast sky was clear despite the cool temperature. Both walked arm in arm.
Taran strode from the distillery to find his wife in the arm of—who was the bluidy Sassenach? He wondered with a thread of vexation at seeing her with another man.
Aileen sighted him. “Come meet my cousin Alistair.”
A McKendrick who renegaded on his roots more like it.
“Laird McDougal.” The renegade bowed, English fashion.
“McKendrick.” He replied stonily.
“I invited Alistair to stay for Samhain.” She informed her husband.
A renegade McKendrick in his lands? Bad news. He nodded silently.
Her cousin drafted a side smile. “I hope you do not object to host the enemy.” The jest not particularly appreciated.
“A McDougal married a McKendrick for an alliance.” He stated, clan affairs not the matter for breezy remarks in his view.
“So I heard.” And what the renegade heard must be the other clan’s version, obviously.
“If you will excuse me, I have work to do.” With a nod, he walked away, wondering whether he would lose it over a renegade.
“I forgot how harsh a Laird can be.” Alistair commented when they were alone.
Her giant of a husband marched towards the manor in that severe manner of his and she hoped she did not make a mistake in inviting Alistair to stay. This became her home, too, after all.
“Too much to do at this time, I assure you.” She smoothed the first impression.
Her cousin’s presence here would mark the alliance between the clans, come to think of it. Soon, by the way, both clans could prepare a feast to celebrate the end of the long hostility. Sam would have to be here though. Maybe next summer if nothing came in the way.
In a moment, his expression brightened. “Do you remember how we used to taunt each other on Samhain?” He remembered. “I challenged you into jumping the fire and you would win over me most of the times.”
Aileen breathed a laugh. “But I never managed to bite the apple in the apple bobbing. You did.”
“I was good at that.” They talked on about their remembrances.
Both continued their stroll, returning for dinner.
~.~.~
Dinner did not prove so relaxed a meal.
Aileen and Alistair chatted and laughed about their pranks as children, but Taran participated little of it.
The Laird watched them with an increasing scowl. Well aware that they were first cousins. He also possessed first cousins who had been like siblings for an only child as him. His mother conceived for the second time when he had been ten and died of that child’s stillbirth and his father did not remarry.
