“I am indeed. Word spreads quickly around this place, Master Cameron. You are already a celebrity and you have been here less than a day.”
Adam shrugged and laughed. “I suppose it is the way of all small places,” he remarked. “Gossip spreads like wildfire. Come inside, M’Laird. I could do with a small piece of your advice.”
“Certainly,” Robert said, bowing his head graciously.
“Excuse us for a moment.” Father Gordon pasted an insincere smile on his face as he drew Adam aside. As soon as they were out of earshot he gave Adam a shake. “What did I tell you?” he hissed. “This man will stop at nothing to get his hands on this castle. Who told you who he was?”
“Mhairi, the housemaid,” he replied, mystified.
“Keep that man outside,” Father Gordon ordered. “He was no friend of your uncle. In fact, they were mortal enemies. Keep him out!” Then he strode away.
Emmanuel Gordon burst into the dining room, startling Mhairi, who was still polishing the furniture.
“Mhairi! Did you tell Adam about Laird McElwee?” he asked furiously.
The young woman turned towards him, trembling. She had never seen the priest so angry before.
“Aye. He asked me who he was, so I told him,” she replied. “I am sorry if I did wrong.” They were speaking in Gaelic, which Adam did not understand, of course, but he knew what fury sounded like, even in that language, and he felt very sorry for her.
However, before he could say anything, Laird McElwee intervened. “Do not be so harsh on the girl, Father,” he said mildly. “She was only being polite.”
It was adding insult to injury, and the priest got up and walked out huffily, saying that he had to pray. Adam looked after him as he left, thinking that for a priest he was not a particularly calm or saintly person. Earlier on he had actually threatened Adam with death, but far from being the devil that Emmanuel Gordon had told him about, Robert McElwee seemed to be a pleasant, civilized man.
The Laird shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Manny always was a bit of a hothead.”
“Manny?” Adam asked, puzzled.
“Yes,” Robert said. “Emmanuel. We have known each other since we went to school at the monastery of St Francis in Perth. He was always a bit grumpy, but I thought maybe the priesthood had knocked it out of him. I see it has not. He is still the same old Manny.”
The Laird looked around him furtively and pulled something from his pocket. It was an earthenware flask, and he asked Adam for something to drink from. Adam produced two pewter goblets into which Robert poured a rich ruby wine.
“From our friends in France,” he murmured. “I am eking it out slowly because I do not know when we will get more, but I thought you might not have any at all, so I brought some to share.”
“That is very kind of you,” Adam said gratefully. He held his glass up. “To your health!”
“Sláinte Mhath!” Robert replied. “We must teach you some Gaelic. You will not get far with your own tongue round here, Adam. The faster you learn to speak the mother tongue the better!”
Adam laughed. “I am too old to learn now.”
Robert leaned across the table and stared into Adam’s eyes with his own piercing ones. “Please do not let anyone hear you say that,” he warned. “These people cherish their language, and so do I. English is not only foreign to them, it is the language of the enemy, particularly the way you speak it.”
“You make it sound like a sin to be English,” Adam said mournfully. “I have only come to view this place, and as far as I can see it is falling down around my ears. The whole area is poor and the land seems to be infertile.”
“Weather and the English caused this,” Robert said heavily. “Dry weather then vicious storms and English horses’ hooves. These people have no reason to like you, Master Cameron.”
“Call me Adam,” he smiled. “I appreciate your honesty, even if it is a bit depressing.” He sighed. “I suppose I cannot blame them.”
“What did you expect when you came here, Adam?” Robert asked.
Adam shrugged. “It is not completely foreign to me but I was only a child when I saw it last. I remember it being green and fertile, and the people being not quite as unfriendly as they are now. When my Uncle Malcolm bequeathed the estate to me I wanted to sell it, then there was a chance that he had left me some gold. I could do many things with that!”
“What things?” Robert asked keenly.
Adam frowned. “The possibilities are endless, but the gold may not even exist. Father Gordon says it was probably a ruse to get me here.”
“Sometimes Manny really annoys me,” Robert said grittily. Then he brightened up. “Tell me about yourself, Adam. What have you done with your life so far? Do you have a profession? Your own enterprise?”
“Nothing like that,” Adam admitted. “Nothing at all. I had a wonderful life and I was well-educated at the local monastery. In my early teen years I thought of going into the priesthood. Then one day I looked at a girl, and then another one, and another one. Before long I was smitten with every girl I saw and forgot all about pursuing my ‘vocation.’”
