Page 54 of Lady Len and the Mysterious Mac

Paint? Was that what the Kintail meant when he said Bram’s head was in the clouds?

The boy glanced his way, so he stormed into the chapel, the others turning to him with varying degrees of unease, except for Dorrie, who grinned toothily.

“What’s going on here?”

“School,” the little girl proclaimed proudly.

“Modern education calls for writing on walls, does it?”

“Aye, milord,” she giggled.

“Bram,” Si said, not looking at any of them but Dorrie, who continued to grin her big, gap-toothed smile. “You’re needed for the shinty.”

“Don’t like shinty,” Bram whined.

“Too bad. Family honor and all that.”

The boy sighed. “Yes, cousin.”

“We have class,” Len protested, stepping closer and scowling up at him, and Si breathed in the sweet scent of lavender and something else. Rosewater and dock leaf salve?

“Not today. The lad can read and write well enough,” he said, and she snorted her displeasure.

It put the devil in Si, and he leaned down so his lips almost brushed her ear and whispered, “You’ve had a letter.”

He delighted in the immediate flush that spread across her cheeks, but his enjoyment was short-lived, quickly replaced with a smoldering jealousy that one spark would ignite into a raging blaze. Jealous of himself as much as a phantom, it was madness!

Withdrawing the letter from his sporran and handing it over, he searched her face for some clue of how she’d react to learning the writer’s identity, but she crossed her arms, waiting for him to leave, so he did, Bram shuffling along behind him.

* * *

Ellen glared at the back of Si’s head until it was long out of sight. She’d wanted to show him the pipe in the wall, to ask where they kept the incense her father-in-law liked so well. But then he stormed in all brooding and bossy, like he was determined to prevent her from doing anything helpful, like he was still angry at her for refusing to do her wifely duty and speak on his behalf the night before.

She didn’t know quite what had gotten into her, only that she’d been surprised and frightened and angry. None of those were new emotions, but she usually kept them locked inside. It was as if Silas had somehow unleashed everything she’d been afraid to feel.

“Can we go and watch the shinty, milady?” Dorrie asked.

Ellen nodded. “Don’t get underfoot,” she said as the two girls hurried past her, their lessons quite forgotten.

Silas MacKenzie had a way of getting under her skin as badly as a bunch of fresh nettles. He seemed to sneer at the idea of her teaching the children to read, and yet he was one of the most educated men she’d ever met. He was bitter at being made to take on a role he didn’t want but turned around and tried to bully her and Bram into the exact same position. He acted jealous of her pen friendship, yet he handed over the letter all the same, when he could just as easily have kept it for himself or tossed it into the fire.

She didn’t know what to make of him. Were all men so confounding? That was the sort of information her mother and Jory should have shared, rather than advice on performing the marital act. Little help that had been.

With shaking hands, she tore open the parchment from Mac. Maybe she could ask him to explain the male species.

Lady Len,

You looked radiant at dinner last evening, but I was too ashamed to speak. Please will you meet me this afternoon? There’s a forest glade beyond the stable. I’ll be waiting.

Your humble servant,

Mac

Ellen sat heavily on the floor, the benches having gone missing overnight. Her eyes flew to the bare spot on the wall where the crucifix used to hang, its pale outline still staring back at her in judgment.

Her mysterious friend wanted to meet. There was nothing wrong in that, was there? How could there be, when he already knew who she was and she was meeting new people left and right these days? He was a cousin, no different than Finn or Bram.

Though, from the angry heat wafting off Si when he handed her the letter, she wasn’t sure he’d agree. Perhaps she should meet this mysterious writer and then give him up for her husband’s sake. Why did that notion make her so desperately sad?