Elaine Coffman - [Mackinnons 06] by When Love Comes Along Page B

Scott had involved himself
in the Duke of Glengarry’s affairs. Ian had a friend, Andrew Stewart. Andrew
had a lovely sister, Fiona, who gave birth out of wedlock. Fiona would not
divulge the name of her child’s father, but it was rumored to be the Duke of
Glengarry. Another rumor had it that the child had been fathered by the devil
himself—not that there was much difference in the two, thought Cathleen.
    No one was ever certain why Fiona did it, but when her baby
was two weeks old, she jumped off a bridge and drowned herself, with her baby
in her arms. Perhaps it was out of shame, because of the insatiable curiosity
of the villagers and their constant speculations as to who the baby’s father
was. After his sister’s death, Andrew vowed to find out who had fathered
Fiona’s child. Because of his friendship, Ian involved himself in Andrew’s
search. Two days later, Ian and Andrew were found with their throats cut, lying
in the road from Glengarry Castle to the village. The day after his death,
Ian’s mother came to see David MacDonald, telling him that her son had told her
the night before he died that he and Andrew had found proof that the Duke of
Glengarry was the father of Fiona’s child. Because she was afraid of what might
happen to her, Ian’s mother had never told anyone else what she knew.
    And now her grandfather was involving himself in something
that was sure to set the teeth of the Duke of Glengarry on edge.
    Why couldn’t he be content to finish out his years working
on the Psalms? Why was he so insistent on involving himself in this? She could
not understand it. She glared at Fletcher as if she knew the devil himself had
sent him here to be purposefully disruptive.
    Fletcher’s words were for her grandfather, but his gaze was
fastened upon Cathleen. “Thank you,” he said, “but I wouldn’t feel right
involving you.”
    “Laddie, I involved myself in this years ago, before your
father was killed. I will not forget the day your mother left Glengarry Castle.
I swore then that if I could ever do anything to help, I would gladly do it.
Perhaps this is my chance.”
    “You were a much younger man then, Grandpa,” Cathleen said,
curling her arm possessively through his.
    “Aye,” David said, “I was a young minister and there wasn’t
much excitement in my life. Now I am an old man and there still isn’t.”
    “‘Blessed are the meek’, ” Cathleen said. “John.”
    David laughed. “Aye, but I ken I would welcome the feel of a
bit of excitement before I go to meet my Maker.”
    Cathleen could not believe her grandfather was speaking like
this. “But what about the Psalms…our translations?”
    David put his arm around her. “I willna forget the Psalms,
my bonny Cathleen, but the days are long and the nights too, and I ken I have
time enough for both. Now, if you will be a good lass and show our guest the
way to the crofter’s hut, I will finish the translations we started on this
morning. Good day to you, Fletcher Ramsay. Come early for a bit o’ porridge and
a scone or two, and then I will go to St. Andrew’s Church with you.”
    “Aye,” Cathleen said, surrendering at last. “I will go as
well.” She caught Fletcher’s curious stare. She was determined to not let her
grandfather out of her sight.
     
    Fletcher waited for Cathleen to gather a few things, then he
followed her down the path from the cottage to the crofter’s hut. He made a few
attempts at conversation, but all fell as flat as his mother’s pancakes. “You
don’t like me, do you?”
    “I dinna know you, so how could I dislike you?” she replied,
marching ahead of him.
    He caught up to her. “Are you always this put out with
strangers, then?”
    She stopped in the middle of the path, the basket on her arm
swinging to and fro. “No.”
    “Then why me? Is it because I took your kerchief?”
    “No, it isn’t that. I have quite forgotten about that
tattered kerchief. My grandfather is old .”
    He grinned.