Epilogue
Laird Calvin had mellowed since the birth of his grandson.
It also helped that he no longer had to worry about protecting his borders; every farmer’s son knew how to use a bow, and a new army barracks had been built against the eastern courtyard wall to accommodate all the soldiers.
An exchange of staff happened between MacNair Castle and the Calvin estate all year round: Calvin crops circled the island by land and by sea, especially with each sailor on board an expert at fighting off pirates.
Meria came out to greet her father from the entrance to Calvin Manor.
Laird and Lady MacNair had arrived last night for a visit, bringing the MacNair heir with them.
Wee Willie MacNair trotted over to his grandfaither and held his hand out for a sweetmeat.
After ruffling the little boy’s bright red hair with his hand, Laird Calvin opened his sporran and gave the small child a sugarplum.
“Nay, Faither!” Meria protested, but not too vociferously. She knew her father loved spoiling William. “Ye’ll rot the boy’s teeth right out o’ his skull!”
Laird Calvin grinned. “Och, dinnae fash. He’ll get new ones, an’ after that, I promise nay more sweetmeats.”
Meria came closer and began to walk with her father around the yard while wee Willie pestered the soldiers.
“I have yet to thank ye properly for sendin’ us word about that young man over in Inverness.
Cal is busy making inquiries down in the village.
If the news checks out, he’ll ride down there in the morning. ”
Laird Calvin knew that Callum MacNair was searching for his younger brother. But for the last two years, all they had heard about the name were rumors and conjectures.
“I swear that every merchant who sets foot on me land brings with him a story of some tall, strong Highlander who might be Callum’s brither. If only this one proves to be more fruitful.”
Meria gave a sad smile. “This being the Highlands o’ Scotland, ye cannae throw a stick without hittin’ a tall, strong man.
The problem is, the last time Cal saw Willie, he was little more than a babe in arms. The color of his hair, his height, his development, his features…
Naught is known about the lad! It is almost as though he disappeared into thin air. ”
Back at MacNair Castle, Meria and Callum had been able to discover a few elders who remembered the train of slave children who had been driven into the bailey over twenty years before, some lying in the cart too.
Callum was interested in speaking to the elders who could remember the bairns in the back of the cart.
“He would have been a bit bigger than a bairn, but no’ by much.
His age would have been around three or four by the eye’s judgment.
He would have had a head o’ wavy reddish-blond hair, I think.
” The truth was that Callum’s image of his brother in his mind had faded over the years.
He was no longer positive about his brother’s hair color and could not even remember the color of Willie’s eyes.
But no one could say what had happened to the cartload of children.
Hamish MacTavish had fallen out of favor with all of his neighbors over the years, and when Callum rode from estate to estate to ask about fosterlings and bonded servant children, he was met with shrugging shoulders and frowns.
“There’s been no such barbaric practices around these parts for many a year, laird,” someone said to him.
“Slave children are for the cruel lands of sand in the far south across the seas.”
He had returned from every search with no word of where his brother could be.
After every journey, Callum would come home and hug wee Willie to his chest with a protective fierceness that made a lump come to Meria’s throat.
His brother, William, was not Callum’s only clan.
He had an entire castle full of MacNairs in many parts of the Highlands now, besides having a son of his own.
But the first Willie would always be Callum’s only half-brother.
They were in the bedchamber that night, lying in each other’s arms, the door to the dressing room ajar so they could hear if their little son woke up, and Meria said, “Husband, did yer mither ever tell ye who was brither William’s faither?”
He shook his head. “Nay. She would always say that William was hers an’ hers alone.”
Meria shook her head, “Aye, but if his faither was an important man or a married man, surely he would be satisfied to stay in the background, waitin’ in the shadows, making sure his flesh an’ blood was bonny an’ blithe?”
He grunted but hugged her close so she would know he was listening.
“Well then,” Meria continued, “did ye no’ tell me that many men wanted to marry yer mither, but she would have none o’ them because she loved yer faither and was waitin’ for him?
That means William’s faither would have been keeping a close watch, maybe to see if she changed her mind about marriage.
Ye showed me yerself that wenches use certain tricks to make sure they had nay bairns.
I find it significant yer mither had a bairn with a man.
D’ye think William’s faither saw the clearing of the tavern stables—when they took away all the children—an’ then claimed his son before he could be sold or fostered? ”
Callum leaned over to kiss her. “Let us no’ weary ourselves with endless speculation, Meria, although it makes me love ye even more to hear yer concern.
And speakin’ of those tavern wenches’ tricks, darlin’ wife, how about we try some o’ those ourselves?
Hearing yer sweet voice has put me in the mood to try them out.
C’mon, make yer husband the happiest man in the world, and I will do the same for ye. ”
“It’s too late,” Meria said.
“What d’ye mean?” He kissed her breasts but stopped to look into the face of the woman he loved with all his heart.
“It’s too late, Cal…because I am already expectin’ our second bairn.”