Chapter 6
They were gathered around the long table in the great hall—Gawain at one end, Lowell at the other, Alistair and Alaric on one side of the table, Aidan on the other with a chair at his side that awaited her.
They were, as she had thought earlier, an impressive group, all of them tall, large, well-muscled men, no matter what their ages.
Dark-haired, light-eyed, powerful men, sure of their purpose. Highlanders, a different breed.
They rode like the wind and could run over hills and valleys nearly as quickly as they could ride.
No matter what befell the world around them, they often went their own way, bowing to authority only long enough for authority to go away.
The Highlands were wild and rugged, and not for everyone, but equally, the Highlands had always been a place too difficult to tame, and the most stalwart of conquerors had often chosen to ignore them and their people rather than pay the price of trying to subdue them.
MacGinnises were proud. A part of their land.
And these fine, fierce men were her kin. Her protectors, as they saw it.
Her rulers as well, or so Gawain seemed to assume, she thought wryly.
Still, she assured herself, they all meant well. Every last one of them, no matter what the particular quirks of their individual personalities. She loved them and was proud of them.
To a man, they stood courteously when she appeared.
The table was set for supper, and the food had been served. It was obvious that Gawain had given the order to Myer, who served as butler in the castle, and Anne-Marie, his head housekeeper, that they weren’t to be disturbed during the meal.
Dirty laundry was about to be aired, Shawna decided.
But she couldn’t hover at the foot of the stairway forever, and she wasn’t afraid of facing Gawain. They argued frequently.
But tonight…
Tonight was different.
David Douglas was alive.
She walked quickly into the great hall and to the dining table.
She smiled at Aidan as she hurried around to the chair that he had pulled from beneath the table so that she could slip into it.
He smiled in return. Rather sternly.
“You’re late,” Gawain said firmly.
“Am I, Uncle? I’m so sorry. I’m afraid I don’t remember having specified a time.”
He wagged a finger at her. “Shawna, you forget, I am your great-uncle. Your father’s uncle. He entrusted your care to me. I will have your respect.”
“Will I have yours?”
Aidan, with his quiet, calm sense of responsibility, cleared his throat. “Perhaps we could fight this family battle of wills at another time. We are all Clan MacGinnis here and should respect one another.”
“Aidan is quite right,” Lowell said firmly, offering a stern glance to both his brother and his great-niece. “Now, I was under the impression that we gathered tonight to plan for the arrival of Andrew, Laird Douglas?”
“Shawna made some decisions today without thinking to ask our advice,” Gawain said, watching her, still angry.
“I didn’t see you this morning before the blessing, and you knew last night that I had assured Mark Menzies I would have the reverend down to the mines.”
“You might have let me know you were planning on giving the men time off. What I didn’t know might have made a fine fool of me, girl.”
“I awoke late. I had no choice.”
“You had the choice to inform me.”
“I am sorry.”
“You will do so in the future.”
“I certainly did not seek to make you look foolish in any way.”
Lowell let out a crusty “Hmm! Shawna, you must remember that we are family. We work together. Back to the business at hand, for I’ve had a long day, would have a good supper, and get some sleep. We need to plan for the arrival of Andrew Douglas.”
“To plan?” Shawna said. “But, Uncle, what is there to plan? Andrew is Laird Douglas, and he’s coming to see to his holdings!”
“Andrew Douglas doesn’t belong here,” Lowell said firmly.
Startled by the vehemence of his comment, Shawna stared at the younger of her two great-uncles.
He smiled at her, shaking his head. Like Gawain, Lowell had kept a headful of hair that was barely peppered with gray, but his face was far more gauntly cast, and tonight he looked tired, both age and weariness visible in his countenance.
“’Tis true, lass,” Lowell said, catching the surprise in her eyes, “that the American has no place here. He knows it as well.”
“But Douglas lands are his heritage,” Shawna said. “Perhaps he wants them for his children.”
“Maybe,” Alistair said cheerfully, winking at Shawna, “his new wife will be barren.”
“Maybe,” Alaric mused dryly, “we should consider trying to buy the property from him.”
Alaric’s statement was greeted with a moment’s silence.
“Buy the property…” Gawain repeated.
“Now that,” Aidan murmured, “is quite a concept. Truly, Andrew Douglas has no interests here. He’s always made it quite clear that he belongs with the Sioux people. Alaric, buying the property is a sound idea.”
“Andrew Douglas does not belong here, that much is certain. Lowell is entirely right,” Gawain said, as if they all agreed upon law.
“And I agree as well. Buying the property would be an excellent idea.” He shook his head, staring hard at Shawna as if all their difficulties were somehow her fault.
“Primogeniture!” he exclaimed. “Ah, but the Normans introduced a great idea when they brought feudalism to England. Sons inherited. And when daughters were all that was left, the closest male kin inherited.”
“Andrew Douglas was Laird Douglas’s closest living male kin when he died,” Aidan reminded Gawain, who was still staring at Shawna.
“This modern world will be the downfall of us, women inheriting the same as men,” Gawain exclaimed.
“We were never like the English, Uncle,” Shawna reminded him.
“And though Scotland became a part of Great Britain by the Act of Unity, we’ve always kept apart.
The Conqueror never quite made it to the Highlands, as you’ll recall, and even Scottish Lowlanders think us a breed apart.
Women have been the heads of many great Highland families in the past.”
Gawain sniffed disdainfully. “Thank the good Lord, lass, that you’ve the lot of us.”
“I love you all, Uncle Gawain,” Shawna said sweetly, “and therefore, I do thank the Lord for you all.”
“Ah, but could you be saying that you have no need for your male kin, Shawna?”
“I’ve never said that, Uncle Gawain.”
“But you fight me every step of the way. You forget you’re a MacGinnis time and time again.”
A new wave of guilt washed over her. Was she forgetting she was a MacGinnis at this very moment? David Douglas was alive, and she wasn’t saying a word about it. These men were her family.
But someone had chased her, someone had tried to kill her.
Not her family!
Still, she couldn’t speak about David.
Not yet.
Aidan cleared his throat. “Once again, perhaps this isn’t the right time to argue primogeniture and the rights of men and women, or our arguments with one another.”
“Ach, women!” Lowell murmured, smiling as he shook his head.
“After all, Queen Victoria is sitting upon the throne, and poor Albert is but a prince!” Alistair provided.
His father shot him a glance that was dagger sharp.
“Then there was good Queen Bess!” Alistair continued. “Good God, she ruled forever!”
“And here,” Aidan added dryly, “we had good Queen Mary, who nearly brought about the downfall of her people!”
“Ah, but good Queen Mary of Scots produced the future King James I of England, whose blood even now runs through the veins of royalty!” Shawna pointed out. “Besides, Mary might not have had quite so many problems if not for all the men conspiring behind her back.”
Shawna was startled to feel a twinge of unease as she felt all her male kin staring at her.
Did they all resent her? It seemed a pleasantly joking conversation, but was it?
Gawain did seem aggravated that she had inherited the title of Lady MacGinnis and was traditional titular head of the family.
He’d never hidden that fact, but it had always seemed more an annoyance to him than anything else.
Certainly it would not drive him to…
Murder.
If she died, Gawain, as the oldest of her grandfather’s surviving brothers, would inherit the title. After Gawain, Alaric, and then Alistair. And after them—unless someone was to have a child—Lowell would inherit, and after him, Aidan.
Was she a fool, believing in family, in blood? After all, there had been a man following her last night, a man who had drawn a sword…
Who had meant to kill her.
But no body had been found.
David had done away with the body. Obviously.
“Wonderful,” she murmured aloud, looking around the table. “You all resent me.”
“Nay, lass, ’tis not that,” Gawain said with a weary sigh.
“Men are more likely to deal with business well, and you should be part of our business—we should be acquiring a proper and fitting husband for you and the like. What is, is, and we do well enough as a family. And we’d do well to acquire Douglas holdings.
Aidan, look to our family resources and see what we could offer to buy out Douglas.
Maybe he’ll want money quickly to arm his heathen family.
Maybe we will have a chance. Alistair, take time to compose what we must tell him to convince him that he would be better off to leave this property and its problems to us.
Alaric, take inventory of our property to see what we might sell for ready hard money. ”
“Aye, Father,” Alaric agreed.
“Well,” Shawna murmured, “at least we’re planning to buy him out—rather than kill him off.”
Dead silence met her words.
Then Gawain warned angrily, “You, my dear, will mind your manners!”
“And is that my assignment in all this?” Shawna inquired.
“Nay, lass,” Gawain commanded, leaning toward her with his blue eyes bright with anger, “you will plan the homecoming for the Douglas and see to it that we offer all possible hospitality.”
“Will I?” Shawna murmured.