Page 5 of Lady Len and the Mysterious Mac

Chapter Two

Back at Castle Leod, Alex MacKenzie, the Laird Kintail, fairly collapsed the moment he stepped inside. With the help of Gawyn, their oldest and most faithful groom, Si carried him to his second-floor chamber.

He sent Bram to the kitchen, and the lad soon returned with Mrs. Kynoch, the cook, who busily took over. She covered his father’s chest in a mustard plaster and ordered him to drink some vile-smelling concoction. That the laird managed to choke the brew down was a testament to his iron will—as well as to the fact that no one was foolish enough to argue with Morag Kynoch. No one except Si.

The ruddy-cheeked woman had been their cook since he was small enough to hide inside a cupboard. She had remained at Leod even when the MacKenzies had abandoned it for their own separate exiles. She had probably single-handedly kept the place from falling into rubble, helping Bram’s mother bring him up, waiting patiently for the day when Alex and Si would return. Now he was back, Si couldn’t get used to her insistence that at twenty-eight he was nigh on old enough to address her by her Christian name.

“Has he fever, d’you think? Should I send for a physician?” Si asked, hovering over her shoulder as she tended his ailing father.

The cook cast him an affronted glare. “A physician, is it? And here’s me slaving away night and day to care for Himself as well as cook all the meals.”

“Och, you’ve done it now, laddie,” his father teased.

Si did his best to look chastened, but the way she spoke, it sounded as though the laird had been poorly ever since he’d returned.

When Alex was wounded fighting with the Jacobites at Glen Shiel eight years ago, his steward, Norval MacKenzie, had messaged Si that his father might not survive the week. But they smuggled him aboard a ship and he soon rallied, as he always did, finding the temperate clime of Nice surprisingly agreeable. Si hadn’t visited Leod since.

Did his father regret the king’s pardon which now permitted his return to the Highlands? Or was he relieved to come home? Could a man feel both things at once? Would he have returned to Scotland at all, had Si not dragged his heels leaving Aberdeen to face the role that awaited him here, with only Norval MacKenzie by his side?

“You look tired, Da.”

“I’m all right.” His father patted his hand in a comforting way, even though Si should be the one doing the comforting. “It did my heart good today, seeing ye with the lass. I ken she’ll make you happy, if ye let her.”

Si turned away, so his father wouldn’t read the emotion in his eyes. “A more mismatched pair never graced the kirk door.” He managed to say it like a joke.

“She can help ye prepare to take over all this.”

“Psssh,” Si tsked. “We’ve talked about that, Da. Norval and I can help you prepare Bram to take it back when he’s of an age.”

He glanced towards the door, where a shock of black hair ducked out of sight, pretending not to eavesdrop.

“You’ve talked about it,” his father said dryly. “I’ve made my peace with what’s coming, and it’s time you did too. The clan willnae wait. If I don’t name you, they’ll demand someone else, and it won’t be Bram.”

Like Mrs. Kynoch, the steward had remained in Strathpeffer the last eight years, where the crofts and the rents were his domain. By rights, he was the real tanist, and if Bram wouldn’t do, Norval should become laird, though he was only a few years junior to Alex. Or, if Norval was too old and Bram was too young, perhaps they’d settle for Si’s cousin Cedrick, the piper. Anyone would be a better choice.

“They’ll have to wait a bit longer to be rid of you,” Si said. “I’ve a friend coming up for the wedding.”

“Have ye son? All the way from Aberdeen?” his father’s eyes lit with pride whenever the topic of Si’s studies arose, unlike the rest of the clan, who regarded all his learning with suspicion.

“Aye, from the medical school. I’ve asked him to have a look at you.”

“Och, let him enjoy the day, son. There’s no cure for old age.”

Then he shifted uncomfortably against his pillows and closed his eyes, dismissing Si, discussion over. “Light some more of that incense you’ve been burning in the chapel, Morag,” he mumbled with a soft smile. “Reminds me of the old days.”

Mrs. Kynoch just frowned, casting them both a dark look, and bustled away.

Lying there with a blanket tucked up to his chin, Alex was practically swallowed up by the big bed which had once appeared too small to ever hold him. Si’s years away hadn’t seemed so very long, but neither had time stood still, he realized soberly.

And yet, his father wasn’t so very old. It was just the damp and chill troubling his lungs. With proper care, he’d readjust to the mountain air and be back on his feet in no time.

“Have you seen Norval of late?” Si asked, surprised the steward wasn’t hovering at his father’s elbow.

“Aye?”

“And what does he say about all this?”

His father’s expression clouded, telling Si all he needed to know. Norval could no more envision Silas MacKenzie as laird than he could himself. At least someone was willing to tell the truth.