The Chevalier by Jacqueline Seewald

bad times for a visit,” Andrew told them. “But you will be welcome nonetheless.”
    Madeline could feel his eyes on her and she turned her look modestly downward.
    “I did not know I had so lovely a cousin,” he said.
    Her eyes came up and she caught the warmth of his smile.
    “You’ll be staying until I come back from the fight?” he asked hopefully.
    “And then some, I expect,” her mother answered.
    Andrew took her mother into his huge, strong arms and gave her a bear hug. “I’ll be looking forward to celebrating our victory with you and my family,” he said. Then he turned to Madeline. “In olden times a lady would give her knight some token to carry with him into battle. Will you give me something of yours?”
    She nodded her head shyly. From her sleeve, she removed a blue, silk scarf and handed it to him. He took it into his hand, and as he did, his fingers brushed her own. Then he put the scarf to his nose.
    “What a fine scent, like fragrant spring flowers, just like yourself.” His smile was a brilliant sunburst. “When I come home, I’ll welcome you properly to Scotland. You have my promise as the Chief of the MacCarnan.”
    “Please take a sack of oats back with you,” her mother hastened to say. “We would consider it an honor to in some way help the Prince’s army.”
    “I won’t deny our need is great. Thank you, Cousin.”
    “Is there a message for your good mother?” Maman asked.
    He favored them with a wide grin displaying pearly teeth to advantage. “Just tell her you saw me as our army began the march to London. Tell her we’ve marched into the heart of England, no more than some one hundred and twenty five miles from the capital and 13,000 men strong. Tell her we intend to face the Duke of Cumberland’s army without fear as true Highlanders with courage in our hearts.” His eyes glistened proudly.
    Madeline clapped her hands with joy and blew him a kiss.
    Andrew MacCarnan swooped down gracefully from his mount and kissed Madeline’s hand in return. “You’re a bonnie lass and I’ll ne’er be forgettin’ ye.” Then he put the proffered sack of meal across his saddle and rode away.
    “I told you he would be wonderful,” Maman said in a soft, husky voice.
    Madeline agreed silently. Andrew was quite impressive. But strangely she found herself thinking about Gareth Eriksen again. By now he must have joined his own regiment of English soldiers. Would they soon be fighting her cousin’s Highlanders? The thought made her feel ill. She could not think well of war, not if it meant that good men would have to fight and kill each other. To consider either Gareth or Andrew killing the other was unbearable, insupportable. Surely, there must be some better way to settle disputes?
     
    ♥ ♥ ♥
     
    When they reached Scotland, the countryside changed dramatically. For one thing, the beautiful rolling green farmlands and forested acreage so typical of Northern England were gone. Scotland, it seemed, was mostly ugly flatlands. When Madeline commented on this, her mother observed that the trees in the Lowlands had long since been depleted, never to be replaced.
    “But the Highlands are quite different; you will see.”
    They did not go directly to the Highlands however. As they had promised Constance, they made a brief visit to her father. The elderly Baronet seemed quite happy to make them welcome to his home. The laird was a country gentleman and lived in a tall, stone mansion with a corbel-stepped gable roof that stood gaunt and fortress-like in the treeless and hedgeless stark landscape. There was no lawn or garden to speak of, but cornfields came up to the mansion wall on one side. The interior of the house boasted no luxuries, the furniture simple while the floors had no carpets. The walls lacked paintings and seemed bare with their lack of decoration. The bedchamber that she and Maman were shown to even lacked a fireplace.
    Madeline’s first impression of lowland Scottish