“A likely story, Blair, and yer mither will hear about this before nae many more suns have set.”
Slaine, aware of the catcalls and hoots of laughter coming from the rest of the taproom, felt it safe to make a suggestion, saying in the politest voice, “Shall we adjourn upstairs, sir? It will be quiet, and there’s a tasty supper waiting.”
Angus was tempted by the sound of supper but was still not ready to let the kiss slide by.
“Ye button yer lips, young man,” he said stiffly, aware that his dignity had been further damaged by his failed attempt to hit Slaine. “That’s the least ye can do after plastering them all over me daughter.”
Blair caught Slaine’s eye and managed to give him a surreptitious shake of her head. Understanding her action, Slaine followed daughter and father upstairs, hoping a stolen kiss was all they had to explain to Angus when they got back to their rooms.
After pushing open the door to the parlor, Angus collapsed into one of the comfortable armchairs next to the fire.
Blair rang the bell rope, and when the maid knocked on the door, asked her for another pot of hot tea. Then she went to the supper table and began to butter her father a fresh bannock. As she did so, she kept one eye on the poor man. He looked so different from the confident, practical man she had watched riding off down the lane toward Flichity Market. She would not have been surprised to hear he had also been kidnapped by a group of bandits.
When she handed the plate with the bannock to Angus, he took it with a shaking hand. The collar of his shirt was loose enough to make her see he had lost a lot of weight in the last week.
After scoffing the bannock down with relish, Angus sat back and sighed. When the maid returned with the tea, and he had drunk a cup of the sweet liquid down, he regained some of his strength and looked around the room for Slaine.
Blair and Slaine realized they would get no explanation about his disappearance from Angus until the man had satisfied his curiosity about their relationship.
“That’s the last time I tell ye where to find me secret stash o’ gold Blair, so help me,” Angus muttered.
Blair and Slaine glanced at one another quickly. It was intimate and conspiratorial, and they were lucky Angus was too emotionally and physically shattered to catch it.
“Och, that I would live to see the day when me own daughter allowed a man to make a fool of her in public. I am shamed—shocked and shamed! When did ye meet?”
Blair opened her mouth to tell her father her story, but he interjected, looking at Slaine with a ferocious stare. “If I find out ye’ve danced a May Day jig with me daughter, I swear…”
Slaine said quietly, “I better go an’ sit in me bedchamber, Blair...er...Miss Carmichael. It will give ye time to explain.”
And he left father and daughter sitting in front of the parlor fire together.
Blair flared up. “Really, Faither, it’s me who should be storming! Ye disappear with nary a word and then come barging into the taproom like an unwelcome summer’s day squall! It was just a light buss on the mouth, and from the way ye are behaving, ye’d think Slaine and I were dancin’ naked together in the town square!”
Angus hung his head, and instantly, Blair was sorry for her outburst.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Faither, but I have been searchin’ for ye high an’ low, and to find ye here, and then all ye have to say is yelling on about me kissin’ Slaine, well, it’s prodigiously upsetting.”
Angus reached for his daughter’s hand. “Forgive me, dearest daughter. The last week has been so terrifying that I was grateful for one moment, havin’ something happen to take me mind off me worries.”
Blair patted her father’s hand. “Tell me everything that has happened, Faither. I promise ye, Slaine is the man to help ye sort it out.”
Angus sighed and took a plate of chicken off the parlor table.
“I’m starving, Blair. Tell me yer side of things first while I eat, and when ye’ve finished yer story, then I can disclose me wretched tale in full. It’s nae a pretty picture, I warn ye, so ye must first promise me that ye’ll still hold affection for me in yer heart after I’m done tellin’ it.”
Blair told Angus the steps she had taken to find him since the evening he did not return from Flichity. She glossed over the more harebrained of her exploits and skipped over the dangerous ones entirely. Her father was left with the impression that Blair, prompted by the urgings of her mother, had set out searching for him, bumped into Slaine at an inn, and formed a partnership with him in exchange for gold.
“So far, we’ve traveled light, this being our first stop at a town after Slaine discovered in which direction ye were headed. Much of the four gold sovereigns remain, and I left two for Mither. There’s still plenty of gold left at home…”
The unspoken question dangled in the air between father and daughter: If Angus had gold in the parlor back at the farm, why was he risking his life to earn more by such dangerous means?
Angus sat gazing at the fire for a brief minute, half a consumed chicken leg in his hand, then seemed to realize it was time to open his budget to his daughter.
“Blair, I owe ye an explanation and an apology. I’m all of a dither to ken which one to give ye first?”
“The explanation,” Blair insisted.
Angus sat back in the armchair and began his story, only this time there was no hero, just a simple man who desired a little excitement out of his humdrum life.
