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Presently, some more customers came into the tavern, including one or two young ladies who could not keep their eyes off Bernard. They flirted with him outrageously until Queenie shooed them away.
“Gie the lad a rest, ye lot!” she ordered, then laughed. “Ye will get nae peace now, Bernard,” she warned.
“I have to go anyway,” he said at last. “I don’t want to be riding home in the dark.” He dropped a few coins on the counter and made ready to leave.
“Come back soon, Bernard,” Queenie invited, smiling at him warmly. “We want tae hear all about the goin’s on up at the big hoose!” She jerked her thumb in the general direction of the castle.
“I will,” he replied. “Thank you for a very pleasant evening.”
“Be careful o’ those lassies,” Jim Elliott warned, grinning. “They could eat a man alive.”
Bernard laughed, waved, and went out.
“Fine manners,” Queenie remarked, smiling.
“Fineeverythin’!” said one of the young women, her eyes wide with admiration.
5
Janice stood at the entrance to the great hall, watching as the big platters of food were brought in and deposited on the long table in the center of the huge room. The guests would help themselves to the food and sit at the other tables around the room in the order in which she had placed their names that day.
Despite her careful seating arrangements, however, everyone was in high spirits, and many old friends were greeting each other after months and years of separation. She had no doubt at all that her careful planning would soon go awry as people forced their way into other people’s seats.
She knew that she would likely have to use all her diplomatic skills to calm down some heated disagreements before the night was over.
Her brothers were being their usual half-witted selves. Alasdair had grabbed a young woman out of her chair and was spinning around the room with her in an improvised dance.
Andrew was singing to a young lady with an ear-splitting off-key serenade, and she was silently enduring the unwanted attention, although she was clearly not enjoying it. Some enjoyed this kind of playfulness, though, but this lady was clearly not one of them.
Janice went over to them and smiled at the young woman. “Excuse me, milady,” she said politely, “but my brother is needed by the housekeeper. It is an emergency of some sort. You know how these things happen when you least expect them.” She gave a little laugh and rolled her eyes heavenward.
The expression of relief on the woman’s face told Janice she had done the right thing, and she steered her brother out of the great hall into the atrium, from where she dragged him into an adjoining parlor. A strong smell of whisky assailed her nostrils, and that, as well as his bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks, told her he was totally inebriated.
“You are embarrassing both yourselves and your guests, Andrew,” she said sternly. “If you cannot behave in a dignified manner for yourself, think of your father. He is cringing with embarrassment, and so am I.”
Andrew had the grace to look a little ashamed and might have agreed with his sister had Alasdair not swaggered up and thrown an arm around his twin’s shoulder. He too reeked of whisky.
“Did I hear you tell my brother to stop singing?” he slurred. “He is a wonderful singer—like me!”
He began to raise his voice in a tuneless melody that was almost unbearable to listen to, then Andrew joined in again, and together they walked back into the great hall. Fortunately, they were apprehended by Laird Stewart, and he took each of them firmly by the arm.
“You will not behave like a pair of spoiled children in front of our guests again!” he growled. “I may be old and ill, but I am not dead yet. You are embarrassing me and your sister, and if you do it again, I will send you both out of the ceilidh under guard. Who will be embarrassed then? I do not make idle threats, as you know! Do you both understand, or must I thrash it into you?”
The laird had never laid a hand on any of his children, but the threat and the look on his face were enough to intimidate them.
“Yes, Da,” they mumbled, looking ashamed and crestfallen.
“Get out of my sight!” Laird Steward snapped. “And try to behave like men instead of children for once in your lives!”
After he had sent them away, he sagged into a chair, coughing uncontrollably.
Janice knelt on the floor beside him, her heart breaking for him. He was so frail, and his sons simply did not appreciate the effort he was making just to cope with the throng of people he had invited for their benefit. She fetched him a glass of water and held it to his lips, waiting for the fit of coughing to stop. She was furious with her brothers and with the group of hangers-on who surrounded them for making her father’s last few months on Earth such a trial.
“I am sorry, Da,” she said gently, as she wiped his lips after the coughing had stopped. Her heart was breaking for him.
“’Tis not your fault, Janice,” he said, still wheezing a little. “You are a good girl, and I am proud of you. If only you could be laird! I worry about what will happen to the estate when one of my sons is in charge. I hope it will still be standing after a few years have passed.”
“I may not be able to have the lairdship, Da, but I still have influence,” Janice pointed out. “I will take care of it as best I can.”
