“I’ve told you. This is different. She’s different. I’ll not walk away from her or the promise I made.”
Uncle Alex quirked his brow at Braden.
“I promised to get her and her son away from the Lamonts,” he explained, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded on his lap. “She was too frightened to leave with me, but I will go back. You can count on it.”
“I’ll send that missive to Logan,” Uncle Alex said. “Ask him what Maggie and Will are doing. I would like to wait a couple of days, catch the Lamonts off guard. If they arrive before then, they’ll accompany you all.
Chapter Eleven
A laddie named Steenie meets the renowned Alexander Grant.
Braden, Roddy, and Loki joined the wee lads in the hall. As the group settled at one of the trestle tables with Steenie and Kenzie, Uncle Alex joined them. He had heard about Loki’s companion and had come inside to chat with the boy.
Steenie had already polished off two meat pies and was working on a pastry, licking the juice from his fingers. “This is the best ever. May I have another, please? Mama says if I say please, then I may have ‘nother. Does that work here, too?”
Uncle Alex sat in a chair and rested his feet on a nearby bench. “Aye,” he said. “Kenzie will find you another, but first tell me about your keep. How many of you live there?”
Steenie set his pastry down and folded his hands on his lap. “Who are you, my lord?”
Alex smirked as he answered the lad. “I’m Alexander Grant. I used to be chieftain of the Grants, but now my two eldest lads share the lairdship, though they’re away at the moment. That puts me back in charge.”
Steenie’s eyes widened. “You’re the laird? My lord. My laird. What should I call you?”
“Call me Alex. ‘Tis fine for now. Now about your castle…”
“I live with my mama and papa, and my uncle Blair. Blair is Papa’s brother. The Lamont brothers, ‘tis what the guards call them.”
“And your mama?”
“She’s called Cairstine, but she’s locked up in the cellars. Will you get her out? I miss my mama. I’m probably not supposed to say that if I want to be a warrior. Papa says she coddles me.”
Alex whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, but I miss my mama every day. I wish she were still here to coddle me.”
“You do?” The lad stared at Uncle Alex in disbelief, and Braden couldn’t help but wonder if he was being honest. Heguessed he was since he’d never known his uncle to tell anything but the truth.
“I do. And I miss my papa, too. He loved my mama verra much. He was verra kind to her.”
Braden held his breath, knowing exactly what his uncle was doing, hoping to bait the lad into discussing his mother’s treatment by his sire. His uncle never failed to impress him with his cleverness, but would Steenie be honest?
Steenie stared at his hands in his lap. “I miss my mama, but not Papa. He thrashes me all the time.”
“Is your papa kind to your mama?”
Steenie’s eyes teared up and he whispered, “Nay. He’s always yelling at her. But he doesn’t thrash her the way he does me. When he gets mad at her, he hits her in the face. He uses his fist with Mama. Sometimes he puts her in the cellars, like he did this time.”
Then he surprised everyone by pointing to Braden. “He said men are not supposed to hit people smaller than them. Is that true, Alex?” He had the most serious expression Braden had ever seen on a child. He’d wondered what Cairstine had been forced to deal with, but now he wondered about the lad, too. His life could not be easy.
“Aye, ‘tis true. I never hit women or bairns. And you will not either, will you?”
His eyes widened and he shook his head furiously.
“Is your mama’s name Cairstine Muir?”
He frowned and thought about the question for a few moments before he answered. “Nay, just Cairstine, but Mama tells me stories about the great Muirs. ‘Tis the same? About their laird and mistress and the special holidays they celebrated. Do you mean those Muirs?”
“Aye, those Muirs. How old are you, Steenie?”
“Five winters,” he replied, puffing his chest out a bit. “I’m old enough to help my mother now. Will you get her out of the cellars? Tell my da he cannot keep her there?”
