“Emily, wars are unpredictable. Occasionally you get a short one that doesn’t leave everyone bruised and bloody but all too often they are very bloody and very long. I don’t have the time to sit and wait. Who can say, this could be another like we fought with France.”
“Which one?” asked Iain and the duke laughed.
“Are you sick?” she asked with concern.
“No. Not at all. Just know about men fighting is all. Don’t make the mistake of thinking myself young, either. And here is your Mrs. O’Neal. Greetings, my lady.” He caught Mrs. O’Neal’s hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “I pray all is well with you?”
“That it is. Come sit in the dining room and I will bring you something. Tea?”
“Yes, that would be most welcome. Thank you.”
“I will go and make sure the men get the carriage and horse tucked up right.” Iain kissed Emily on the cheek and hurried off.
Emily and her grandfather were barely seated when Neddy came in, prompted by Mrs. O’Neal, Emily suspected. The last she had seen of the child he had been happily playing ball with the other boys. She watched as her grandfather hugged the boy and relaxed. Emily had feared he might turn away from Neddy as his heir because his father had not been gentry but she should have known better.
Iain came in and took the seat next to her. He was staring at her belly again and she was afraid he could see how it felt, which was a ridiculous thought, she scolded herself. Her belly was hidden behind a wide skirt and nobody could see what was happening with it, except for the fact that it had grown.
It was difficult but she held back a sound of surprise when the ache turned into a pain. “How was the journey then, Grandfather?”
“It was pleasant enough. The scenery is different enough, and plentiful enough to keep one’s mind pleasantly occupied. We had no incidents and plentiful warnings about where any trouble was. We had a pretty uneventful journey. Ah, Malcolm did meet a rattler? I think that is what you call them.”
“He was not bitten though, I hope.”
“No. Screamed like a woman, however.” He smiled when Emily laughed.
Mrs. O’Neal hurried in and started to put food on the table and a pot of tea. She next brought in coffee for Iain and a glass of apple cider for Neddy. When Emily made a move to help her the woman held her down with a firm hand on her shoulder.
“Shall I take something out for your men, Your Grace?” Mrs. O’Neal asked. “Or I can tell them to come on into the kitchen where I can feed them.”
“If it would not be too much of a burden, I believe they would be quite pleased to eat in the kitchen. They have eaten outside or on the back of their horses for too long.”
“One day we will have inns and such along the way, like the civilized countries. Well, after these fools are done killing each other,” she muttered as she went to call in the duke’s men.
Her grandfather watched Mrs. O’Neal leave with a half smile on his face. “Women do have their way of reducing all men to utter rubbish.”
“It is a gift,” said Emily. “And ‘fools’ is the right word. I have the awful feeling that at the very bottom of all the talk of rights and loyalty and so forth, it comes down to money. In the open it is one side demands something and will not bend and the other demands they see their side of things and will not bend. I call that idiocy.”
The duke nodded. “It is. It is also the ways most wars begin. And the people who do not care either way are caught in the middle. The money? Quite possible, it is usually at the root of everything bad. At least this time it is not us.”
“I did hear one man talking about the French helping the Rebs though.” Iain looked at the duke. “Others say the English are helping. Even Spain is dipping its toe in the water.”
“All those countries that would love to see this country brutally wound itself so they can, perhaps, slide right back into it.”
“They’d never get in. Too many of us running about armed. Will be less soon, sad to say. If the listing of the dead after a battle is any indication it will be a lot less. Bloody slaughterhouse. And ye have to watch what ye say depending on where ye are, because showing any sympathy for the wrong side in the wrong place is a killing offense.” Iain shook his head. “Idiots are destroying what they had, what most of the people like me would die for. A place where you can own your own land, put your own house on it, no matter who ye are. Just pay for it and it is all yours.”
“And no lords to rule over you.”
“No offense meant, Your Grace,” said Iain. “But what man doesnae want to be free of all that?”
“None. In fact, my own men who have been at my side for years are casting a longing look at the places we go through as we come here. I pay well, too,” he added with a grin.
“Ye would let them go, aye?”
“Of course. If nothing else, what good is a man who no longer wants the job but is held by tradition or lack of choice.” He waved his hand. “You got out although I wish that damn idiot woman had offered a choice instead of tossing out a whole family.”
“Weel, ye tossed her and her whole family out, I hear.”
“Did not want that nasty business connected to the Stanton name. I may have whispered a word or two about what had been done in a sympathetic ear as well.”
