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Conflicting thoughts zinged Drostan’s mind. On one hand, if The McPherson appointed an heir, or successor, it would free Freya and Ewan from the danger looming over them. This being the most important outcome of his father-in-law’s decision. On the other hand, it might create dissention in the McPherson if the appointed successor did not satisfy most of the clan. He sincerely hoped Freya’s father chose someone who would be a consensus in his clan to avoid further conflicts. That done, he must deal with Ross’s and James’s ambitions, certainly a tricky event. Whichever way, Drostan would keep alert.
Fortunately, the snow which had caught up with Freya and Ewan when they returned to the manor had been washed by the sloshing rain that came afterwards. It did not snow anew. They had a few days without rain which made the roads more dusty than muddy, but not impassable. This first week in December brought that sort of crisp windy weather usual between autumn and winter.
Freya and Ewan travelled in a carriage while the McKendrick men rode their impressive horses. Inside the carriage, the servants had placed hot bricks to protect Ewan from the chilli air. In spite of the risks, Drostan and Freya decided to take their son as the gathering would provide a good opportunity for the boy to meet his grandparents. To leave him alone with the nanny in the manor did not seem sensible though there would be servants around to take care of the four-year-old. Freya did not feel confident enough to be separated from him, in any case.
The McKendricks lived close enough to travel to and from in the same day. Several Lairds did not have the same convenience and would have to overnight at the McPherson, like in the old days. A sense of nostalgia came over the lady at this. Her grandfather used to be too fond of the glorious days of Scotland and regaled her with innumerable stories of wars, adventures, and clan rivalry. He even sang the old ballads to her in his croaky voice. A wistful smile drew her lips. She would certainly pass on this to Ewan. She had already started doing it in their bleak days in the derelict cottage where she had found refuge for those horrible years.
Her father’s letter induced contradictory feelings in her. Relief was the foremost because his decision would resolve this awkward situation and free her and Ewan from the dangers they endured in the past years. Any probability that he would choose Ross as the new leader should be regarded as slim at best. This man would not accept it so easily which meant he would continue his machinations towards his sole goal. The knowledge of it caused extreme apprehension in her. Not for herself, but for the successor. If the clan did not support him, the man would be in for a very hard time. She would be sure to alert the appointed successor to it.
Despite these musings, optimism overruled the other feelings. Not having seen her parents in years, the visit inspired eagerness in her. Without siblings, she had bonded with her nearest cousins who provided her with countless childhood memories. They would be there for sure, and she would be able to rekindle their bonds.
Through the window, she saw the manor where she grew up as enthusiasm dominated her. She checked her white blouse, black external corset, and green, black, and white plaid skirt, under her elegant cloak, smoothing any possible wrinkles. Also, a pat on her simple chignon, with auburn wisps falling from it assured her of her hair’s tidiness.
The great McPherson hall already displayed several people in colourful plaids. Most men dressed the traditional tartan and most women chose attires like hers in their own clan plaids. Her eyes surveyed the place expecting to see Ross, but he seemed not to have arrived yet, a calming breath inundated her lungs.
Drostan at her side, they held Ewan’s hands as the boy’s wondering gaze took in his surroundings. Wallace, Fingal, and Lachlan followed close, on the lookout for any strange moves. Her parents stood right ahead greeting the newcomers. A smile came to her as they approached the elderly couple. Both opened their arms to her. Edna McPherson still preserved strands of auburn hair among grey ones, but her luminous brown eyes continued vivacious like Freya remembered.
“Oh, Freya.” She smiled openly. “I am so happy to see you.” Her eyes lowered. “And who is this gorgeous young man here?”
“Mama, meet Ewan.” Mother turned to son. “Ewan, greet your grandmother Edna and grandfather Irvine.”
Edna lifted the boy in her arms and his grandparents talked proud to him. Not shy, her son answered their questions.
After the greetings, the McKendricks advanced inside, coming across Aileen and Taran. The Lady McDougal hugged her brothers, and the men exchanged camaraderie handshakes with their brother-in-law.
“I do not think you have met my son Sam.” The McDougal introduced. “He is already home for Christmas.”
Freya looked at the lanky red-haired lad bearing round glasses over green eyes the replica of his father’s. “Sam, it is nice to finally meet you.” She smiled. “I am Freya, your cousin.” Fiona gave him his hair colour though.
He smiled shyly behind his glasses. “My father said you have come for a visit.” He started. “A pity we never met before.” He bowed formally to her.
“Laird McTavish is at the back of the room. You remember him, do you not, Fingal?” Drostan asked his brother suggestively. The man sent the marriage proposal for Fingal and his second daughter Anna.
“I remember him.” Fingal answered above the noisy conversations around them. “The years passed for him too.” He surveyed the man’s black hair gone grey. His daughters did not come as they stayed in London to further their ladies’ education.
“The hard-working McKendricks found time for a social outing.” A saucy female voice directed at Lachlan who had wandered away from his siblings.
His eyes fell on the not so tall lass, observing her Darroch plaid, but not recognising her. The lass looked too pretty for her own good.
“You do not remember me, I can see.” She guessed. “Moira Darroch at your service, my Laird.” She made a mocking curtsy, her mischievous eyes direct on his. The Laird Darroch’s daughter, then.
At eight and twenty, the youngest McKendrick was by no means a cold-blooded highlander. And the daring lass was by no means devoid of good looks. Her attitude stirred his curiosity together with his hot-blooded response. “Dame Moira.” He mock-bowed to her, following her playful tone. “A pleasure to rekindle our acquaintance.” They had surely met at one or other festival held during spring and summer. He would have remembered if they had talked or danced. Especially danced, his eyes strolled down her hour-glass figure.
“Pleasure’s all mine, my Laird.” Her attention accessed him in return, without a single drop of demureness. Which caused the expected effect in Lachlan. “I will see you around.” She said as she went to join her clan.
The guests were taking their places and the McKendricks would occupy the honoured seats by Laird and Lady McPherson on the elevated table at the front of the hall.
Footmen passed trays of food, ale and whisky among the guests.
From here, Freya could see the whole hall swarming with people. The McPherson chieftains all reunited at one side. A movement at the entrance attracted her attention. Ross and James had just arrived, causing a frosty chill to wash over her. Between her father and Drostan, with Ewan on her lap, her visibility was high.
Ross turned to the high table and his flinty eyes squinted on her with such hatred and contempt it moved the air about her. Stare directly on him, she did not show her apprehension. Under the table, Drostan squeezed her hand in a sign of support. “He cannot do anything to us here.” Her husband assured her between his teeth.
No, not here. And after this day, she would be rid of his threats, she steeled herself.
At that moment, her father stood up, and the hall fell silent. “It makes me happy to see you lairds and lasses gathered here.” He began.
The entire room cheered before he could continue. “I have been deliberating the need to appoint my successor or make an election for years, balancing the pros and cons of possible candidates.” His voice
