He had to grit his teeth to keep the sudden swell of emotion from spilling over.As his own?A lifetime ago, ’twould have been. Now, when he thought ’twas too late, here she was, inviting him to stay. He couldnae, of course, but he’d ne’er forget that she offered.
“ ’Tis kind of ye. Ye cannae ken how much that means.”
Lauren’s aunt was somewhere near the age his mither would have been, if he’d returned from Culloden. And from what little he’d experienced of her kindness, their generous souls were uncannily similar. If anyone else had to live here, he was happy ’twas Phoebe, who clearly loved the place, as much as he did.
Though now, ’twas to be sold, and even she would be gone. The thought left his recent repast churning in his stomach. Earlier, in the car, he’d heard the pain of having to sell, in her voice. Seeing her face the task with such stoic courage told him much about her character.
Phoebe patted his arm. “Go get your shower. Take whatever time you need. Lunch will be ready whenever you are.”
As she closed the door behind her, Reginald felt the imminent loss of his beloved glen all over again. He thought he was prepared to return, touch the past, and then let it go. But being here, even with all the changes, made him want to stay more than ever.
What if his second chance truly was, right here?
Soncerae had given him mortality, for which he was unspeakably grateful, but no’ the means to live it, save by his wits and the brawn of his back. Neither of which could put coin enough in his pocket, in time to buy back his legacy.
Nae. ’Twould never be his.
Hugh’s warning to leave the past alone and start somewhere new, played in Reginald’s mind. Why hadnae he listened?
Because he’d been a fool.
’Twas obvious he must leave soon, before he became any more rooted to this place, or the people on it.
* * *
The shower had beenpure indulgence. The hot steam every bit as decadent as the water sluicing over his body. Were it no’ for Lauren’s family waiting lunch on him, he’d have liked to stay forever.
The clothes proved a wee bit more challenging, beginning with the smallest garment. But with limited options for application, it hadnae taken long to figure out its purpose. Though, the wearin’ would take a bit of gettin’ used to. The jeans were a good fit as far as he could tell, but no’ so, for the first shirt he tried. Crayton had clearly been smaller in the chest and arms. Thankfully the other shirt of soft, blue fabric stretched easily as he pulled it over his head to accommodate his bulk. He twisted, turned, and sat, in the new clothes. Mayhap no’ as comfortable as his kilt and longshirt, but ’twould do ’til Phoebe returned them to him.
Anxious to depart the small room for the bigger, open kitchen, he ventured down the hall, hoping he wouldnae run intae anyone and could go outside before lunch. He’d love a look around, by himself. Most of all, he wished to visit the old burial ground on the knoll overlooking the crag, but that would entail a good hike and he doubted everyone would wish to wait that much longer to eat.
He prayed time, elements, or man, hadnae destroyed the graves, hoping they could indicate whether his parents had remained in the glen after he left. ’Twas possible they’d fled to escape England’s murderous punishment of all Jacobite sympathizers, after Culloden. Or, did they run, or were mayhap driven out, by the scandalous taint on their name?
And his.
God knows he’d suffered his own repercussions from the rumors and alleged charges against his uncle. ’Twas both his reason for joining the Jacobites, and why some refused to fight beside him on the battlefield. Who could blame them? Who would wish to battle alongside a traitor to the cause? Or the nephew of one, in any case.
Reginald would gladly trade his new mortality to prove them all wrong. But what could he do nearly three centuries after the fact? ’Twas impossible then. ’Twould be preposterous to try, now. But how was he to build a life on a sullied name?
Several delectable scents assaulted him as he entered the kitchen, earning a growl from his stomach, despite the light repast he and Lauren had consumed earlier.
Surely his memory overrode his senses. ’Twas ridiculous to think Phoebe could have made bread in the short time they’d been home, yet he’d bet his newly acquired sense of smell that was fresh-baked bread he detected. And something else achingly familiar, that he couldnae quite put a name to.
As he entered the kitchen, Julia set a bowl of greens on the table with Lauren just behind her, carefully transporting a large tureen of something that smelled like…no, it couldn’t be… “Tell me ye’ve got Cullen skink in that pot, lass, and I’ll die a happy man.”
Lauren laughed as she sat the heavy pot in the center of the table. “Made with what Aunt Phoebe tells us is the traditional Finnan haddie.” She looked up and let her gaze slide slowly down his length, then with pink cheeks, brought her gaze back to his face. “It appears you know your soup. Aunt Phoebe wants us to experience authentic Scottish food while we’re here.”
“Ahh.” He sighed his pleasure. “Do ye ken she’d run away wi’ me?”
“Well, you could ask,” Lauren laughed again. “You certainly clean up nice enough.” A playful smile lit up her face. “Don’t get me wrong, your kilt is great—more than—but this look has its…uh…charm, as well.”
Julia leaned close and whispered something to Lauren before pressing her lips tight to contain her smile as she made her way back to the kitchen.
He was still trying to think of something to say when Aunt Phoebe brought a huge basket of fresh, crusty bread to the table. Julia, losing the battle to hide her grin, came back with a pitcher of water.
“There you are!” Phoebe set the bread beside the soup. “Perfect timing, Reginald.” She plopped a hand on one hip and gave him a quick perusal before nodding her approval. “I’d call that a splendid fit. Crayton would be pleased.” She waived a hand toward the table before heading back to the kitchen. “Sit anywhere. The others will be here shortly.”
“Thank ye,” he muttered, feeling the need to squirm a little and worried once more that the shirt was a bit too snug.
