I blew out air and sat on the bed beside him. I dropped my head to his shoulder.
He said, “Och, I came here tae hae a nice visit and he has gone and soured m’mood.”
I said, “Well, truth be told, you also came here to visit your childhood home before you cut the ties to it, it’s bound to befull of melancholy — your uncle being a jerk is bound to make cutting ties easier.”
He half chuckled. “Tis true.”
“Saying goodbye is going to be full of sour memories I think, it was probably a little fun to tell him you were leaving and not coming back.”
I felt him nod.
“I was angry when I said it… but I did enjoy it, I enjoyed tellin’ him that I was goin’ tae take Sean and Lizbeth away, but I tell ye, Kaitlyn, my younger self would hae enjoyed it more. He is diminished in my mind now, it daena take away from his cruelty, och, he is cruel. But now I see he is weak and auld and it takes the pleasure away from beatin’ him.”
He took my hand in his and held it on his thigh. “I wish he were thirty years younger and I could hae called him out tae the courtyard and kicked his arse.”
“He would have deserved it.”
“Aye, and his treatment of Lady Mairead has always been unforgivable.”
“Whenever I am furious at her and think her unreasonable, it’s good to remember that though he wronged her she has spent her whole life dealing with it, suffering him, for her children’s sake.”
“We owe her a great deal, although she is also a verra difficult woman, and has caused a great deal of trouble.”
I laughed.
He squeezed my hand. “But I daena want tae think on it anymore, let’s go for a walk around the castle, I need tae clear m’head.”
“Sounds perfect.”
CHAPTER 9
MAGNUS
THE FAMILY CHAPEL - 1710
Twas afternoon, the summer light still slanting high through the narrow windows as we passed the open doors of the Great Hall. Inside I heard Sean barkin’ orders at the guards, and down a far corridor I glimpsed Liam stalking up the steps. We dinna pass Lizbeth, but twas fine, we would see her at the evenin’ meal.
The corridors grew quieter, the stone walls damp from the warmth of the day.
I led her past the kitchens — where we paused tae inhale the scent of baking oatcakes and simmering broth.
Kaitlyn said, “Yum, even though Zach is the better chef, by far, it triggers such a strong memory to smell the kitchens at Balloch.”
“Aye. When I was a lad I had a hunger that sat here under m’ribs and I could barely wait for the next meal. I would sit there, in the shadows,” I pointed in the corner, “and wait for the food tae be served so I could try tae be near the front of the line.” I chuckled. “It rarely worked, the maids would find me and shoo me away. I would end up in the back when the food was near gone and foul and cold.”
“Still you would try to wait?”
“Aye, though twas futile, I couldna refrain because the hunger would override m’sense.”
We climbed up a short flight of worn steps tae the small private chapel tucked against the eastern wall. Twas one of the oldest parts of the castle, built when m’Campbell ancestors first claimed these lands. I pushed the heavy oak door open, groanin’ on its iron hinges. Inside, the air was still and thick with old incense and wax. A few candles guttered on the altar. The chapel was low-ceilinged, dim, with my uncle’s stained-glass window, his prized possession, catchin’ the last bits of sun. Light shimmered across the benches and the stone floor.
The chapel was small enough that three strides took us from door tae chancel rail.
Kaitlyn lifted her eyes tae the window. “I always love this window, it’s so beautiful.”
“Aye, when the Earl commissioned it he must hae had a heart filled with hope for his family’s future and the glory of God. Tis difficult tae square it with a man who has spent his life double-dealin’ friends and foes.”
The stained glass glowed in bits of deep crimson against vibrant blues and lush greens: St. Columba blessing the waters of Loch Tay, his hand raised in benediction over a kneeling Campbell knight. Below the saint’s feet, the Breadalbane arms were quartered in lead and color: red lion rampant, gold border.
