Tavish caught Elsie’s soft words. “I suppose so.”
And then Edmund’s reply. “I thought he would be taller, the way Mariah talks.”
Mariah rounded the table and, pushing Wallace aside, wrapped Tavish in a tight hug.
“Ye wretched man!” she said in his ear, shaking him slightly. “Ye didn’t say even one word in your last letter about this. I would have been waiting at the window in anticipation!”
“Hallo, Mariah.” Tavish returned her hug, lifting her off the ground. Her small frame always surprised him. Mariah was such a force of nature, he thought of her as a giant when, in fact, she was a mere wisp of a woman.
Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she pulled back, tears pooling. “Regardless, I’m glad ye be here.”
The emotion lingering in Tavish’s chest constricted.
“Enough. Ye will both begreitinglike a pair of mawkish débutantes next.” Callum pushed Mariah aside.
For all his brusque words, Callum grasped Tavish in a tight embrace.
Huh. They were the same height now. Before, his brother had always been a wee bit taller.
“Figures ye would grow another two inches, yebawbag,” Callum said good-naturedly. “Welcome home, brother.”
And then the twins were upon Tavish, demanding his attention though they surely had no true memory of him.
Edmund climbed his legs as though they were tree trunks, while Elsie tugged on his coat. Both battered him with questions.
“Will you be here for long, Tavish?” That was Elsie.
“Did you kill a hundred Frenchies in the army?” That was Edmund.
“Edmund!” Mariah swatted the back of his head.
“What?! He was a soldier, Mariah.”
“Would you like to meet my pet rabbit? Her name is Josie—”
“Josie is silly! Ye should see my frogs, Tavish!”
“Children! Enough!” Their father clapped his hands.
Lord Northcairn used a cane now to walk, Tavish noted. But the man’s gaze danced as lively and heedless as ever.
Reaching up, he pulled Tavish’s head down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I praise God ye have arrived home safely to us, Son.”
“It’s good to be home, Da’.”
“Jameson!” Lord Northcairn called for their butler. “Let us have a bottle of Madeira to celebrate.”
The twins whooped and raced around the room, setting the dogs to yipping. The cat leapt onto the sideboard, upsetting the gravy boat and tracking brown paw prints across the tablecloth. Mariah rapped the table, calling for order, which the twins—no doubt to their peril later—blithely ignored. Callum rolled his eyes. Their father laughed and went back to his food, tossing the cat to the floor. The beleaguered Jameson arrived and summoned a footman to help clean the mess.
Home was precisely as Tavish remembered—mayhem, laughter, and affection flowing atop undercurrents of resentment and pain.
As ever, he drifted along in its wake.
The following hourspassed in a rush.
The twins were beside themselves to finally meet their long-absent older brother. This meant they had to show him everything in their world. Tavish admired the frogs—one was likely a natterjack toad, not a frog, which the twins debated at length—as well as a smooth snake, a rabbit, and a litter of kittens. Apparently, the snake had a habit of eating the frogs. No surprise there.
Once the twins had been banished to the nursery—complaining mightily that they were not tired and Tavish still hadn’t seen the spider nest in the back garden and would he spend the day with them tomorrow?—Tavish joined his father and Callum in the library for a dram of whisky.
